I wandered over into Roger’s yard for a while this afternoon where Harrison, Jeffrey, Josh and Emma were playing and Mike and Roger talking.  And believe it or not, while listening to and taking part in the several conversations and games all these various parties were carrying on simultaneously, something fascinating caught my eye back by the fence.  Roger’s deep purple lilac was all covered with new buds that had opened just enough on this springlike spring day to begin offering glimpses of what is to come. 

Lord have mercy on me.  Those flames of lilac lust have taken root in my heart.  Again!

I might have missed this tempting little bud stage, but for the evergreen clematis that has wound its way from his fence into his famous “Thief’s Lilac Tree” back by the alley.  You see, that clematis has just begun to bloom, and all of those glorious cream-colored flowers fluttering in the breeze seemed to practically be calling out to me:  “Psssst, Dave, look over here!”

Imagine it.  These are the very lilacs I’ll be stealing (let’s not kid ourselves here, OK?), from Roger’s tree before too many more weeks have passed, and here I am checking out their most immature state of ‘flower-ness’ while talking gardening and life and politics with their owner.  Who happens to be a dear friend . . . and a cop!  It felt as if I was casing the joint. 

I was.

With a great expenditure of effort I was able to snap back from greedy visions of vases and jars filled with fragrant, deep-purple lilacs, but almost instantly began to feel guilty.  And then I took another look at Roger, surveying his uber-swanky gardening getup, and all pangs of guilt dissolved in an instant.  That outfit may not be screaming “Kick Me!”  but is surely is screaming something.  Me, I choose to interpret that scream as an earnest invitation.  I choose to believe it as Roger’s little way of saying, “Dave, really, take all the lilacs you want.” 

And so I will. 

Yes, lilac fever has me in its clutches already, and they’re just barely showing their faces within the buds.  In my wayward heart I know I’m rotten to the core, already diligently at work searching for any excuse to justify stealing from my neighbor.  Lame as it is, this scene (below), is my latest excuse.

Is it just me, or can you see where I’m coming from?  I mean, could you steal lilacs from a 6’4” guy dressed like this?