Snapping beans.

Got that so right @IKE

A little story comes to mind;

Simpler Times

Y’know, it’s funny how sweet memories are garnered from simple things.

Years ago when the boys were small, we picked a mess of green beans. I mean a lot, three gunny bags full.

The boys had fun runnin’ up and down the rows of string beans in between pickin’ their own sack full.
Sippin’ water in a mason jar, trudgin’ to the outhouse, eatin’ raw beans…..with a little dirt on ‘em for flavor.
The farm had hundreds of acres of rows and rows, long rows.

Once back home, we all sat at the kitchen table, stringin’, snappin’, jabbering away at everything.
Empty jars boilin’ in the kettle.
Shadows lengthened.
Dinner on the back porch.
Baths for the boys, story time, tuck in, don’t let the bed bugs bite.

Wife and I get serious with the canning process.
Cooker steamin, rattlin’. Jars lining up. Lids poppin’.

2 AM, the pile is manageable. Thru bleary eyes we look proudly at the bounty, smiling at each other.

“I didn’t know you liked green beans so much.”

“I don’t, you?”

“No, not so much.”

The boys are 38 and 40 now, and fondly remember those days.

Nobody remembers eating the beans…….
 

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My sister and I would have to cut the ends off and then long cut (french cut) bags and bags of beans that my mom would can. It took many hours! At least they came up with stringless beans by then.

What I do with my green beans is snap them off when I pick them, leaving the stem behind. Then, just throw them in the pot if they are clean enough or wash if needed.
 
So very true. I did it with my grandma and my mama and how I miss it. I also did a lot of strawberry picking in my grandma's berry patch... many didn't end up in the container I was supposed to be putting them into. 😇 Maybe it's my imagination, but those strawberries were so much sweeter than I've tasted in decades. 🍓🍓🍓
 
I miss those days, doing the beans, shelling peas. For a while I could get fresh peas still in the pod at the farmers market. Now they all are shelled even there. I did plant some one year but they did not yield much in my little garden. My folks grew long rows of them in our big garden.
 
I used to help my Grandma open the pea pods after we picked them from the garden. She would tell me stories about my dad when he was a kid. She was his mother, so she had some good stories to tell. She would tell me I had some of my dad's traits.
 
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