Yesterday afternoon, I had just settled down on the porch to do some digitizing when the telephone rang.
Nanny: "Want to shell some peas?"
Me: "Not really."
She said she had picked two big grocery sacks full of peas that morning.
These were my "late crop," which I had planted before I came down with a sinus/ear infection that lasted two months and caused me to abandon the garden altogether. I felt bad for sluffing off the shelling work on Nanny, so I went down to her house to get one of the bags of peas.
While I was there, I checked to see if the butterbeans were ready. They were not ready, but they were crawling with thousands of tiny army-helmet-looking bugs. (I don't even know what to call them.) I mixed up a sprayer full of bug spray and let 'em have it.
It took me two hours to shell the peas, and another 30 minutes to wash, blanch, and freeze them. They made about two quarts.
I don't even like purple hull peas, but my daughter-in-law loves them. This afternoon I'll take them to her, along with a jar of "pea relish" that she likes. It'll give me a chance to smooch on the Rotten Little Baby. ;)
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