So I'm sitting here waiting for the pies to cool so I can put them in the fridge, and eating a stolen orange.

Yes, I stole an orange from my neighbor's tree. We have an orange tree, but it apparently was neglected for awhile, or maybe the yard got a treatment it didn't like. We coaxed some blooms from it (and you could smell that sweet smell from the street) but the oranges stayed small and green and hard. Maybe next go-round.

But our neighbor's tree is stiff with oranges. She's been away for some time. Last weekend another neighbor told us that her family had moved her into a nursing home. They're gradually getting the house cleared out to sell but seem to be in no hurry. Meanwhile the oranges are going to fall on the ground and rot. He encouraged me to get some and eat them - they're good, he said.

And they are, they're delicious. Pink inside like grapefruit - I don't think I've ever seen oranges like that. Seedless. Very sweet. I got to thinking about them a minute ago and had to go and get one.

It's very dark between our houses, though, and I know there are snakes around. Last weekend the little girl kitties chased a good-sized one out of the backyard. I had my little mini-mag flashlight but the batteries are tired and I could only see, like, one step at a time. All the way back to that tree I kept thinking I'd step on a snake, and this wouldn't be a black snake, but a rattler or copperhead, and I'd lie down and die, and be found with a stolen orange in my hand. Didn't happen, though.