This weekend, I planned on going "figging" at a local pick-your-own spot. Due to the recent lack of rain, there were no figs to be had. This is the point in my story where I suddenly remember a fig tree at a nearby office park. Do we dare? Yes, we dared and joined the league of suburban scrumpers.
scrump (v.) to steal fruit, especially apples, from a garden or orchard
I made a reasonably yummy fig tart with our spoils. We've since gotten an inch or so of rain here so maybe I can get some legit figs soon.
On another note, I began reading Anne Lamott's Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith. I love her. Seriously, when I read her books (stick to her nonfiction) I feel as though I've reconnected with an old friend.
2 comments:
I heart figs.
I know, I always think of your lovely fig tree in Queens when I see figs.
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