Joy the Baker

This list of things that I’ve stolen in my life is pretty small.

There was that piece of candy that I stole from Fedco when I was 7. My Dad caught me chomping on it in the back seat of the car and I got the big morality talk. Lesson: never steal anything too chewy.

There were the Girl Scout cookies I stole from my big sister’s room when she was out on a secret date. I was the natural suspect. I got a good talking to for that one. When I pulled the same cookie thievery the next week, well…. my parents made sure I learned my lesson that time.

Then there were all the times I would sneak into my Mom’s secret chocolate stashes. My Mom’s hiding places were no match for my ability to find a stool and wiggle my way around cabinets looking for sweets.

Thinking back on it, my thievery always involved something delicious that I wanted to put in my tummy. I was pathetically predictable in that sense.

I was once again tempted by the thievery gods this weekend while walking around my neighborhood. There’s citrus EVERYWHERE. Just about every other yard has a blooming orange or lemon tree just begging to be plucked. Isn’t sneaking into someones yard to yank their produce considered theft? I thought back to all of the stern reprimands and spankings I got from stealing yummies as a kid and thought better of sneaking into my neighbor’s yard.

Instead, I forked over some cash at the farmer’s market and felt just fine about making this Honey- Lime Curd.

Does this sort of concession mean my bad girl days are long gone? Sigh….

Read more »