A Tale of Two Beans

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

No, wait. That's already been written.

Ok.

Two beans walked into a bar.

Oh, right. Done before.

What can I say about two beans?

Born and raised in Upstate New York.

Made their way to a farmer's market.

I ate them raw.

They were delicious and set off a spark in my brain of snapping green beans for my mom at our house on Seneca Lake. A chore to keep me out of the kitchen and away from the water, but one that made me feel needed and loved in our very large family.

Far younger than my siblings, shucking massive quantities of fresh corn and preparing pounds of beans made me happy. I didn't really care about drowning in the Lake. I was content.