Today I yanked out the green peas and Mr. Big Food and I shelled what I’d harvested this week. He’s already planed several meals of peas for next week.
Sitting at the kitchen table watching the errant pea fall to the floor, I was reminded of Miss M’s first experience shelling black eyed peas years ago. We had a paper bag full, I believe. That’s a lot of black eyes to shell. When one sees that big empty bowl in front of oneself, and drops the contents of one pod in the bowl, and then another and another, one comes to appreciate just how valuable each individual pea is.
So there was Miss M sitting on a stool shelling peas into the bowl when one popped out of the pod, bounced off the table and onto the floor, and started to roll away. Boy! Did she ever jump up off that stool in a hurry!
The world would be a much better place is everyone knew the value of an individual pea that came from a pea you planted and tended and picked and shelled and did not allow to remain on the kitchen floor.