“Wisteria and Butter Beans”



One of my grand mothers lived in a town 36 miles from my hometown. I visited her often. My cousin who was nearest my age lived with her as did her brother and their mother. As we drove into the driveway of her small house in the spring, the car brushed against the lush vines of Wisteria. The plant is natural to the south and had grown into a tangle of masses and ropes like a grapevine encircling the driveway. The perfume laid heavy in the air.

In the late evening when the fireflies came out we would sit on the front porch. My grandmother would give my cousin and me a bowl full of speckled butter beans to shell. The one of us who found the prettiest bean would get a quarter. As we shelled beans and giggled about what little girls giggle about, I remember the even more pungent aroma of the…

View original post 80 more words

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.