That’s what my basket looked like after a harvesting sweep of my legumes yesterday. So what is wrong with this picture? Well, lots of things: it’s slightly out of focus, doesn’t boast especially interesting composition….
But let’s ignore the formal limitations of the photograph, focus on content, and ask the question again:
What’s wrong with this picture?
Nothing, if you love string beans and don’t care much for peas. Unfortunately, both husband Steve and I much prefer peas. But I can’t keep up with the beans—this is what I picked just before lunch, less than twenty-four hours after my previous picking—and I’m still bringing in just a few pods of peas each day.
I made a conscious effort to plant more peas this year. Of course, I made a similar effort last year, when I had the same problem. Facing this bean explosion, I made a mental count of my bean acreage and realized that I’ve got five 4×4 foot beds devoted to bush beans.
Some of you may be inclined to point out that such calculations should perhaps be made before planting. The real question, you may wish to say, isn’t about the picture, it’s about my planning and planting.
To those of you so inclined, I have a piece of advice: Oh, go bury your head in a compost pile.
Here’s what I’ve got to say about what’s in the basket
I didn’t see any rats, but your beans are pretty nice. We’ve had an odd weather year in the garden so any good looking produce is a bonus. Perhaps next year will be perfect for peas!
Thankfully I don’t have to bury my head in the compost! My basket would’ve been all peas and no beans I’m afraid. I didn’t get a single dwarf bean pop through the soil but loads of peas from a small row of about 0.8m length. That’s the joy of gardening I suppose – you just never know what you’re going to reap. Fingers crossed for your peas next year.
Looks very fresh and crunchy! My dad grows string beans in the backyard and I would wonder why some of them are purple too. Do you have any idea as to how this is possible?
The beans do look pretty delicious tho!
Nothing wrong with the picture at all. Lovely beans, very colorful. I am a huge fan of beans and peas.
I know exactly how that happens. Last year, I did not plant my beds well and I hardly had enough peas to make a pot with, but I had so much cilantro, i had to freeze five bags of it.
Ooh,Becky, nice looking blog. I must return when I have one or two more wits about me. I glanced around for an “about” page so I could see where you are (someplace snowy), but couldn’t find one.
Odd weather is becoming the norm—but better luck next year. Thanks for the beany praise. They are pretty, aren’t they?
Loads of peas, Wendy, from a row less than a meter long? (How wide was it—three meters?) You don’t feel like moving to Montana, do you?
Good question, Karina. Green ones make sense—camouflage while the seeds are developing, to keep critters from eating them before their time. Flowers, by contrast, are showy, to attract pollinators. Maybe some fruits are showy for the same reason, so that someone will eat and spread the seeds? I guess they’re the risk-takers—they might get eaten too soon, but they also stand a better chance of getting eaten, or otherwise spread, than do “invisible” green beans. Hmm.
They were good, a.l. Just not as good as peas.
I know, Alena , complain complain. But one’s entitled to one’s preferences, isn’t one?
Why, Ashley, why does this happen?