| Bean Pods Sunday, 12th October 2003
Following the advice of television self-sufficiency expert Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall I intend to try planting some of these in the greenhouse in February to produce an early crop of beans by May, when the tomato plants will go in. At this time of year - according to the three-fold division of the year he suggests for growing crops in poly-tunnels - I should have salad leaves growing in there, but, the weather being so mild, the tomatoes are still ripening.
All screwed up
Even though I've got hundreds of screws (I always recycle them when I take anything to bits) of dozens of different varieties it gets to the stage where every screw I try is either:
But hey, how does a person of practicality and Zen-like calm react when the third screw I've tried in one particular hole comes up right through the shelf, because it's too long? Simple: just shout: 'You rotter!!!!! - ARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!' It's at this point when Barbara, overhearing this from the kitchen suggests that it's time for me to stop for the day! Drawing bean pods for half an
hour is such a therapy! Honestly, it is,
you should try it sometime!
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The
broad bean pods (left) are dark brown:
twisted and shrivelled as if charred by fire.
The
dwarf French bean (right) pods are faded
to mottled straw; the colour of putty might be a more accurate description.
They to are brittle and dead-looking but open them and their beautiful
beans, like tiny polished pebbles, are purple-back flecked with
fleshy pink.
Such
a pleasure to draw these after an afternoon putting up shelves at
the back of the garage; I'm glad to stop that task. I'm just about
to complete the job by screwing the brackets to the shelves when
I come across a fundamental truth of DIY:
