Friends, Garden peeps, hello?

Gardening 365 – Day 207

Whoaaaaaaaaaa Nellie! I mean Carol and Dee,

Ladies, sorry I am so short on time and edibles, but, dang, I AM! My pole beans are cooking along. My bad that I didn’t plant another dozen or so plants.Note to self: next year, plant two to three times as many pole beans. Oh, they are tender and delish, gold and a few purples. Lots of gold. Its a hoot to pick them and eat them right off the vine. Reminds me of the Mary Oliver poem about beans:

By Mary Oliver

They’re not like peaches or squash.
Plumpness isn’t for them. They like
being lean, as if for the narrow
path. The beans themselves sit quietly inside their green pods.
Instinctively one picks with care,
never tearing down the fine vine,
never not noticing their crisp bod-
ies, or feeling their willingness for
the pot, for the fire.

I have thought sometimes that
something―I can’t name it―
watches as I walk the rows, accept
ing the gift of their lives to assist

I know what you think: this is foolishness. They’re only vegetables.
Even the blossoms with which they
begin are small and pale, hardly significant.
Our hands, or minds, our
feet hold more intelligence. With
this I have no quarrel.

But, what about virtue?

I send you my best from Ranch du Bois.
Your garden friend,