To share or not to share? That is the question.

Okay, here's a post for you that will reveal my true character. You don't get many of these, so pay attention.

There are a few things we truly love here in the South. We love our iced tea and you can get it in any restaurant all year long, and as many free refills as you like, unlike up north where you have to pay for each glass, and can't find it at all in a restaurant during winter. (What's up with that? I love it up there, especially New England, but no iced tea?) We love our smoked hams, blue crabs, barbecue and black-eyed-peas. We also love our pecans and our butter beans.

Now here's the thing about pecans and butter beans....they have to be shelled. Now, I'm not saying they aren't worth it. They damned well are. I'm just saying it's a bit of a chore.

My best friend used to have a garden. I can remember how she used to pick all those butter beans, and then shell them, and bring them to me all bagged up and ready to cook. I used to tell her that I couldn't believe that she did that for me. I told her that I would shell them myself, but I never refused them when she brought them to me. I loved them and I loved her for doing it.

I visited my father on Sunday and he took me into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door and said, "Now, Bonnie Ann, just you look at that." Well, I did, and my eyes got very, very big. *Gasp* I made the proper sounds of amazement and envy as my eyes feasted on the largest jar of, ..... and this is the important part.....already shelled.... pecans that I had ever seen in my entire life. The jar was positively huge. The kind in which kids can make a terrarium for a school project, the industrial size that school and hospital cafeterias get their mayonnaise in. You could fit a baby in one of those jars. I'm not suggesting that you should try...I'm just saying. (Photo: I tried placing an apple beside the jar for scale. It's still hard to tell how truly large the jar is, but I think you get the point.)

I said, "Dad, where on earth did you get those?" He said, "Well, I grew 'em, of course." When we moved into the house in which my father still lives, back in 1961, my father planted three pecan trees. These were pecans from those very trees, and my 89 year old father had shelled them himself.
.....and now the best part.....drum roll, please.......he then said, " You take 'em home with you now, when you leave. You hear me, don't cha forget 'em." **Hee, hee, not much freakin' chance of that**

I could not believe my luck. Both my sisters are coming to visit next week. He could have given them to either of them or divided them among us. Now, do you think I was going to suggest that to him? All together now.....nooooooo! My father didn't raise any idiots.

Now don't think for one minute that I don't know how long it takes to shell that many pecans and don't think I don't appreciate them. That's my whole point. I really, really do and that's why I'm the one who truly should get them. Right? Right? Isn't that right?

I'm even going to make a couple of pecan pies for my two sisters when they come next week.

How sweet am I? Sweeter'n shuuga!