My last two entries have been on the sad side. Time to lighten the tone a bit.

When it comes to fruit trees, I'm a certifiable kleptomaniac.

Where I grew up, there were no fruit trees, with the exception of the 11-inch tall citrus tree in my family's living room that produced the tiniest fruit I'd ever seen. My grandparents live in southern Arizona; their backyard and the adjoining alley are chock full of fruit trees. The first time I saw a tree laden with ripe fruit, I was fascinated, and made it my personal business to sample fruit from every tree in my grandparents' yard. When I'd chewed through their grapefruit, tangerines, and peaches, I set my sights on the neighbors' oranges and lemons, and discovered that the old adage about stolen fruit tasting better is, indeed, true.

Those childhood escapades instilled in me a lifetime love of fruit trees, as well as a passion for stealing from them.
I'm not a complete pirate; I only take a few pieces, and always leave enough left over for the owners.
Plus, California law states that if a branch of a fruit tree hangs over a fence, it's legal to harvest any fruit that branch produces.

My place of residence in Southern California is fruit-yoinking heaven. Within two blocks of where I'm sitting right now, there are two lemon trees (one of which is home to the tastiest lemons ever), an orange tree, a blood orange tree, two grapefruit trees, two yellow peach trees, one white peach tree, two or three cherry trees, a Japanese lime tree whose fruit makes fantastic margaritas, an apricot tree, a plum tree, two apple trees, a pear tree, and a fig tree.

From May through December, at least one of those trees is producing tasty, tasty fruit for me to pilfer and carry back to my lair. The people who own these trees seem to completely ignore the fact that they've got delicious food growing in their backyard, and are content to let it spoil. It would be a crime to let all that yummy fruit go to waste.

(I've actually obtained permission from some of the neighbors to harvest their fruit, but the subversive child in me thinks it's more fun to pretend that I'm being a dastardly fruit-stealing rapscallion).