Not long before he died, my grandpa gave my mom the top of a pineapple he bought at the grocery store. He told her to plant the top and see if she could grow a pineapple.
This year, a tiny pineapple has finally appeared.
I miss my Papaw.
Not long before he died, my grandpa gave my mom the top of a pineapple he bought at the grocery store. He told her to plant the top and see if she could grow a pineapple.
This year, a tiny pineapple has finally appeared.
I miss my Papaw.
My whole family (mom, dog, cat, and me) planted beans last night.
Geez, do I love beans. I love looking at them in catalogs, I love finding my new favorites in the mail, or saved in the refrigerator from last year. I love planting them (bare feet are a necessity), and I love growing them, harvesting them, and shelling them.
And of course, eating them.
The cool, smooth feeling of running my fingers through freshly shelled beans will forever give me goose bumps.
*Varieties planted: Turkey Craw (originally found in the craw of a wild turkey), Cherokee Trail of Tears (supposedly carried by the Cherokee on their death march), Hidatsa Shield Figure (grown by the Hidatsa in the North Dakota area), The Brown Nut, Pigeon Hole, Tiger Eye, and soybeans.