Post Script - July 25, 2020

It was pushing 7 p.m. when the tomatoes finished processing, and I had not seen anything of The Husband since I left him at the shop earlier in the day.  I wrapped a cold beer in a towel and drove the truck down to Nanny's to see what he was doing.

He had un-stuck the bush hog shaft/bar/whatever.  It was hooked to the tractor, and he was about to try to mow the field in front of Nanny's house.  "This damned thing better work after all this," he said.  I handed him the beer.  He took a couple of swigs, handed the beer back to me, and climbed on the tractor.  I stuck the beer in the shop refrigerator and went out to the fence to see if the bush hog was going to cut.  IT DID!

While he mowed the field, I went back to the garden to see about the green beans and the peas.  Bugs have been having a feast on the green bean foliage, which was about half yellow from all the rain.  I was going to pick beans but decided it wasn't worth the effort; they were gnarly and bug-eaten.  The peas, however, needed to be picked.  As I picked each plant, I pulled it up and tossed it in the middle.  The vines had run all through the squash, across the new row of tomatoes, and into the cucumbers. 

It got dark on me as I was getting to the end of the last row.  I just hurried and picked the peas and left the rest of the vines.  Tomorrow, I'm going to pull up the rest of them, and the green beans, too.

When I took Nanny the peas to shell, I told her I was going to clean out the garden and start some new crops.  She wants butterbeans.  I hope I can still find some seeds.