I just stole a lemon

But the big shock here is not that I stole the lemon, but that I live in a place that has lemons. Growing on trees. On lawns. Next to sidewalks. Dangling blatantly over public property. And looking so pretty and steal-me-ish.

So I did.

(Now, while it is absolutely acceptable for perfectly normal people to grow lemons, I suspect it is not equally acceptable for other, perfectly normal, people to take those lemons. In fact, I guess that the best way to get one of those lemons is to befriend the person that is growing them and wait, just wait, for them to offer you some. Veiled hints should help. However, as we have not been here long enough to befriend someone to the level that they would offer us lemons, we were forced to consider plan B, namely, hanging around the yard of someone who was plucking their own lemons and just happening to mention very loudly and entirely off-handedly how much we loved, just loved, lemon loaf. However, whenever we hung about, people looked at us askance and casually, but hastily, went inside and locked the doors and windows. As Plan B was such a dismal failure, we were forced to moved on to plan C: Thievery.)

It is a beautiful lemon. But it is not in a cellophane wrapping. Or even in a bin with several hundred of its nearest and dearest kin. So, of course, it is highly suspect.

Something could be living in there.

Taking back roads and skulking all the way, I made it to my home around the corner in under five hours. Slicing open the lemon with trembling hands, both because of my refusal to turn the lights on which would alert the police to my presence and because of the aforementioned potential for an uninvited guest hitchhiking a ride in the lemon, I cut that puppy into four gorgeous quarters, only slightly nicking two fingers.

So far so good.

I bundled three of the quarters into a plastic bag which I loosely knotted and dropped in the fridge. Then I got a mug, sugar, and some water. The plan is to make a warm, lemony drink to sooth my aching throat.
Warm, lemony drink to sooth an aching throat
Gently squeeze a quarter of a lemon into a mug. Drop in the lemon quarter. Add a pinch of sugar. Fill the mug to the brim with water.

Put the mug into the microwave (my microwave heats it up nicely in 45 seconds). Drink, preferably with a few digestive biscuits or, if feeling decadent and recklessly unafraid of butter, shortbread cookies.
So far, the police have not come to call. This, in turn, has made me wantonly reckless. So much so, in fact, that I have noticed that there is a very pretty lavender bush nearby.

And I know just where my cutting shears are.