We've had a rash of burglaries around here in the past few months. They all were pulled off in the same way. The window in the back door is smashed. Jewelry, small valuables, and money is taken, then the thieves are gone within minutes. So far five homes that I know of have been hit, including a neighbor who I chat with every morning. He has actually been hit twice, and when I saw the police car pull up in front of his home the other day I feared the worst.
"Hey Paul, what was up with the cops this morning? Did they break into your house again?"
"No, this time they stole my bananas."
"Stole your bananas? You mean the bananas on that tree that hangs over the street?"
"Yes, and now I only have that one bunch remaining." Paul said, pointing up into the knot of banana trees in his front yard.
I felt bad because Paul is obsessive about his yard. He is out there every morning pruning, clipping, sweeping, and whatever else it takes to keep his lush jungle looking nice. I just never knew he cared that much about his bananas, or the star fruit he also grew out next to the street. In fact I always figured if it was on the public swale next to the street, it was fair game. I mean if you don't want people to help themselves to your fruit wouldn't you plant it further up into your yard?
Like I said, Mark baked a delicious banana nut bread today.