Sunday night last week, I started shelling the half-tub of crowder peas I brought home from the farmers market.
I finished 2 1/2 hours later and started cooking the beans in two big pots. At 11:30 p.m., I was burnt and carried the pots over to the barn and stuck them in the walk-in cooler.
Brought them back to the house on Monday, stewed them in tomatoes, and added some garlic and onions. Finally got 7 quarts in the freezer on Tuesday. I was wanting to can them but I ain’t got time for that now.
Tuesday evening, I spent two hours picking October beans. I decided that was the last picking so I pulled up the plants and plucked the beans off. Much easier that way; standing upright in the bean patch plucking beans rather than all hunched over swishing leaves about looking for beans.
Wednesday, Jenifer divided the October beans into three groups: market beans, too ugly to sell but perfectly fine beans, and immature beans. I blanched and froze the immature beans for soups and stews this fall and winter.
Thursday night, Jenifer and I were sitting in the barn. I was shelling the too-ugly-to-sell beans and Jenifer was working on the edamame soybeans she had picked earlier. There might have been a beer or two hanging around the barn during the bean work.
My sister-in-law and niece stopped by the barn on Thursday night. They live down the road on the other side of my dad’s cow pasture.
My niece watched me shell about three beans, then she jumped in. When the bowl ran low, she would refill it from the tub and keep shelling.
Eventually, she started squirming and dancing about. Her mom told her they needed to go because she could see my niece had to go pee. She said, “I can hold it, we are almost done.” She has more gumption, drive, initiative and common sense than most of the people I work with. She is 9 years old.