Shelling Peas

From the porch

swing. I noticed the little cotton tail came from his spot behind the garage and nibbled grass.

The bunny does that after noon as sure as squirrels leave the trees about nine each morning.

My mind was looking for somewhere to go and settled on “peas.”

Shelling peas is one of a few activities to enjoy during a slow swing ride.

Our eating habits change during the summer. We rarely have pizza or spicy foods.

Some folks want meat three times a day. The Kansas Woman’s father was one of them. In summer it is common for us to go for days as vegetarians.

Last night we enjoyed fried squash, sliced heirloom tomatoes, corn on the cob and new potatoes, all from the garden of generous and sharing Kansas friends.

Unlike black eyed peas in plastic bags, Crowder peas went from family to family, and they are technically beans.

Crowder peas are just one variety of “field peas.” There are also tiny Zipper Peas, Lady Peas and the popular Purple Hull peas among others.

Hershel and Jewel Watkins lived at the end of the road and grew tiny Sea Island red peas.

Mr. Watkins boasted that his little bitty red peas were superior to those of every other family. They might have been, but little peas took twice as much work for the same volume of shelled peas.

Mr. Fred Webb, who lived between us, noticed a few red pea plants on one side of his patch, and every year there were more of them.

People in the 1930’s were not stupid. They knew about cross-fertilization, and within a few years, Mr. Webb’s patch was just nearly full of red peas.

Years later Jewel Watkins, who lived to be 98, confessed that Hershel planted some of his red peas in the Webb’s pea patch at night as a joke.

The Webb family moved out of the community, but the last time I saw Hugh Webb, he was still raising red peas and saving the seed.

The wife of an old south Georgia friend calls twice during the summer. The first call is to tell me peas are ripe and being pulled and the second reminds me that the season is fading.

A man in Arabi sells peas out of his truck, but I don’t think I can use a bushel of peas. He also sells peas at the State Farmer’s Market and has a shelling machine.

There is something calming and therapeutic about sitting in the swing or a rocker with a lap full of newspapers and a pile of peas. It is the first step in enjoying peas.

We talk of how nice it will be to soon have a bowl of peas with cornbread, but we’ll just have to wait a little longer.

joenphillips@yahoo.com