Slowing The Pace Down

For the past three weeks, there hasn't been much time at all for life on the farm - for me that is.  I have a great and supportive family.  My wife and sons have pitched in and taken care of business, cleaning up the yard, patching a hole in the barn roof, and taking care of the animals.  I was able to leave a little early from work this weekend, and Sunday was the first day that I was able to see Our Maker's Acres Family Farm in the daylight.  It was nice.

I went out to the garden and picked a 5 gallon bucket of black-eyed peas and purple-hull peas.  Some were ripe for the pickin'.  Others were over-ripe and dried, but that's okay.  They'll eat just fine.  I walked back to the patio and sat down and just gazed at the peaceful surroundings.  I looked up in the live oak tree and saw large "widow-maker" branches that had been broken by the 100 mph winds.  The limbs broken by violence of nature sat juxtaposed against the peaceful backyard and the enjoyable event that was about to take place.

It was time to shell peas.  All you need is time.  Some people have automatic pea shellers and there may come a time when old-age and arthritis requires that we get one.  For now, shelling peas by hand is just fine.  You need a bowl and a bucket to throw the pods in.

Pea shelling is one of those rare things in life in which you get immediate gratification of seeing the fruits of your labors.  A full bucket of fresh-picked peas quickly is transformed into a bowl of shelled peas and a bucket of pea pods that will be returned to the earth when we compost.

Watching the peas in the bowl grow in volume is a satisfying event. Often Russ will come sit down with me and shell some.  You can observe in the bowl below why Black-eyed peas are called black-eyed peas.

You can tell which peas were dried by their sun-bleached color and which peas were ripe, but not dried, by the green color and plump girth of the peas.

Cowpeas are a crop that seems to thrive in the harshest of conditions.  Even in the peak of summer months, they scoff at the heat and drought that assaults them.  And they produce peas packed with protein that will feed our family.

Pea shelling is a satisfying exercise that allows you to slow down the hectic, frenetic pace of modern life into a peaceful, slow, but productive endeavor.  As your bowl increasingly fills with peas, your stress level is reduced.  There's only one thing better than shelling them - eating them.  Tricia will put on a pot of rice and in another pot, shell cook the peas with some smoked sausage.  If I'm lucky, she'll cook some cornbread to go along with it.  It is an easy, but satisfying meal that reminds me of childhood and simplicity and honest country living.