We call it a . . .

Yes, I am behind on my Everyday Matters drawing challenges. I have kept up with doing them, just not with posting. So rather than bore you with the ones I have neglected to post, I am jumping to the current challenge, #206, "We call it a . . . " which in this case is called a "mess" of beans. I used watercolor and watercolor pencils in my landscape hand.book journal. So what is a "mess"? I'll tell you how I learned just how much a "mess" of something actually is.

Hubby and I bought our first house here in this southern mountain community in an older neighborhood right in town. Most of our neighbors were "locals". In these parts, one is only considered local if you can trace your family back at least six generations or more living in this particular county. If not, then you are "not from around here". Our "local" neighbors were quite friendly, most were much older than us, and always ready to offer help and advice to this new young couple from parts unknown living in their neighborhood.

Now, in this town, gardening is a competitive sport. Maybe because the summers are so short and summer temperatures can be rather cool. And maybe because we tend to get a good deal of rain in the summer months and have hard, rocky clay soil. Gardening can be challenging, to say the least. Every spring one of our neighbors would bring in his tractor from his farm and plow over a large plot in the lot next to our back yard. There he would plant neat rows of corn, some beans and cucumbers, and a few tomato plants. He also plowed a smaller section for another neighbor, Mrs. W., where she would plant her corn, beans, and cucumbers. Our first spring in that house this kindly neighbor plowed a section of our backyard for us so we, too, could begin a garden. I know these neighbors were privately laughing when they spied us building a series of square raised beds in that newly plowed plot and then consulting our treasured copy of All New Square Foot Gardening
to plan our planting for our vegetable garden. So obviously were we "not from around here".

During the summers we watched our garden of raised beds produce an abundance of wonderful vegies and would often chat with these neighbors over our by then constructed backyard fence about the trials of growing tomatoes and how best to get rid of the ever present slugs. Mrs. W. would often mention that she had spent an afternoon picking a "mess" of beans or corn from her small plot. I always assumed a "mess" meant 'a lot' and nodded impressively over the success of her growing season. Until one day she said that she had worked so hard picking two "messes" of beans. Then I was stumped. I had to ask, "so how much is a 'mess'?" Knowing she was amused by my non-local ignorance she told me that a "mess" was enough for a pot full, for one family meal. So that was cleared up. And now you know too.