The Choreography of a Coincidence

Spring (or whatever you want

Spring (or whatever you want to call this weather we've got going on here) is one of the few times in my life that I am ever really truly tempted to steal something. And that something is flowers. Anytime I spot daffodils and narcissuss I make a mental note of the street address. Late at night I have the urge to put on dark clothing and walk around the garden district with a pair of snippers and a vase.

I do have my own daffodils and narcissus growing in my yard, of course--but this is a problem of pure selfishness. These bulbs only bloom once. There will be no more flowers until next year. And if I cut my own flowers to put in my house, I will have none left to decorate my yard.

(Incidentally, the only other thing I have been known to "collect" and never give back is RUF t-shirts).