Maddened by Rain and Orange Blossoms

Early this evening, a warm, gusty wind blew in out of nowhere and cleared away a patch of cloud canopy, and can I just say how damn good it felt to see that stretch of blue sky lit by the setting sun (it's the rainy season, for anyone who missed my last post)? So good I sank to my knees, groceries clutched in both hands, and sobbed right there on the sidewalk beside my neighbor's hedge with the orange tree on the other side that's frothed with the most unbelievable-smelling blossoms.

Oh! Ha! I'm just kidding of course I'm just kidding. I didn't do that. Sink to my knees and sob, that is. Though maybe I saw myself doing that--it really felt like a release to see that glowing blue patch of sky. But I really am stalking my neighbor's orange tree. God, I'm turning into a junkie, a flower junkie, an Orange Blossom Junkie--man, that sounds lame. I was actually contemplating flower theft today, so that I can smell that orange-blossom goodness at home, any time I need like.

At first, I thought: orange-blossom sugar?--like the way you make vanilla sugar. But, no, it's too perfumey. I once tried a chocolate truffle with rose-infused cream and I was not won over. The whole food-smelling-like-bath-soap concept...nuh uh.

So what about orange-blossom-infused alcohol for... sniffing... and stuff?

Well, that would still require the poaching of the neighbor's tree. But there are so many flowers! I mean, would it be so bad? Could I get arrested?

* * * *
119 [911 equivalent in Japan] operator: Ye-es?

Neighbor with orange tree: Help me. Oh my god, you have to help me.

Operator: Ma'am, please calm down and tell me what's up.

Neighbor: That girl... with the short-legged dog... She's back. And she's doing it again.

Operator: Doing what?

Neighbor: Sniffing! For god's sake, please make her stop. She's sucking up all the pollen, leaving nothing for the bees, screwing up the pollination process, ruining next year's orange harvest. [I know nothing about growing things, so give me a break.]

Operator: Holy balls. Okay, whatever you do, do not approach her. She sounds weird. We'll send someone over right away. Don't worry, Ma'am, we will put a stop to this sick, sick girl.