Heat; Humidity; Green Beans [On-Going!]

Jim offered to help pick the glut of green beans this morning. The garden rows were muddy from the night's rain. J. used the padded garden 'kneeler' to work down one row while I leaned from the waist to pick the adjoining row. The rain had beaten the lower stems of some plants into the mud, thus we brought in three 1 gallon buckets of wet dirty beans. 

Two cucumbers, a few tomatoes and the first harvested cabbage came in with the beans. 

My darling Rosie-cat [who has studied all phases of quilt making] is interested in the green bean harvest.

I have always had cats in residence who find green beans fascinating.

Selection made.

I wish I had a video taken a few seconds later. Rosie flipped a bean onto the floor, where it landed beside Elmo, a.k.a. 'Orange Eejit' Predictably, Elmo levitated, then skittered across the floor, fur on end, while Rosie peered over the edge of the counter as if to say, 'Chill, boy! Its only a bean!'

Each bucketful of green beans has been soaked in cool water, rinsed, spread to air dry on layers of newspaper laid atop opened out plastic bags. Ordinarily, I would top and tail the beans, then cut or break them before rinsing, but today's haul was too muddy, so 'plan B.'

Photos of cluttered kitchen counters aren't edifying, but there it is--a glimpse of reality.

I'm recalling that most of my veg/fruit canning over many decades has been accomplished in a small kitchen space. The tiny Orwell, VT kitchen with minimal counter space and a 24" propane cook stove was where hundreds of quarts of tomatoes, beans, beets, peaches and pears were processed.

The Wyoming houses all had rather high-end beautifully designed kitchens--but our attempts to garden in that high desert land didn't yield a harvest. 

The huge kitchen at our remodeled Amish farmhouse became the most ideal setting I've had for food prep or canning: ample lengths of counter tops providing work area around the sink, room to line up cooling filled jars. Produce could be brought into the large room off the kitchen which the Amish owners had used for laundry and their primitive shower arrangement, as well as for canning over a portable propane burner.  Garden dirt could be washed off in the big utility sink, before bringing the produce into the kitchen. I had both an electric cooktop and a wood-burning cookstove. The woodstove came into its own in October when applesauce simmered in my biggest kettles before being bottled and processed on whichever cooktop had room for the canners.

Can you tell that I am procrastinating? 

I sit here typing and reminiscing while an on-coming storm sets the hummingbird feeders swinging wildly on their hooks; the tiny birds are in a frenzy of feeding.

With several hours of work before me I had best get into it. I hope the electricity doesn't go out in the midst of my efforts!