Beans, beans, beans

Beans! Where do they all come from?

Yesterday I picked every single bean that was remotely edible.  Today I take a cursory look and find enormous monsters I swear weren’t there yesterday.

Can you imagine how many beans I’d have if I coddled and cosseted my plants instead of leaving them to fend for themselves?  I fear that might be too much of a good thing.  Yet another reason to stick with imperfect gardening.

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