Four plantings,

eleven beans. I ate them all, greedily, this evening. Exquisite. 

Beans in mid-November. This is climate change. One year there will be no more beans. That's our fault. I'm glad I'll (probably) be dead by then but I weep for your grandchildren. My own children - beloved but unwise on my part - are wisely opting out.

What ignorance, arrogance and denial brought us to this?