Now they're called free-range kids, but when and where I grew up, we were all just kids. We lived on the old state road with mostly old houses, a few new ones and some sheep and cows. When I was old enough to cross the road I was pretty much on my own until the 6:00 fire station whistle blew.
One day a few of us found ourselves in a neighbor's garden. We may have been sent there with a basket, I can't remember. We had green beans in our garden, but when we started opening up the pods of these bean plants in order to sample a few, these were unlike any beans I'd ever seen before. They were big and colored all over with patches of white, red and black. They were pretty tasty, too. It was one of those moments of kid wonder that makes up the patchwork of childhood. Sitting in the bean patch with some fresh, colorful beans on a sunny afternoon stuffing our faces.
Here's a celebration of those beans. It may be the start of a little series on fruits and vegetables.