But it never was. Just now, for the umpteenth time recently, I’ve been picking, de-stringing and chopping runner beans. As I stood there I remembered some of the many years I’ve done this, since I was a little girl, perhaps five or six. I always helped my grandparents, I loved it, the bright green of the pod and then inside, the pinky red of the bean. It made me feel grown up to use a sharp veggie knife, as I opened the pod, the fresh scent and juice transferred itself to my little hands.
I doubt many five year olds would slice beans these days, their parents would be worried that they would cut themselves. Even my own children didn’t, there were too many other things to do. Perhaps that’s the problem, too much doing of techy things, TV, computers and games consoles. Making connections, just I am now, with the virtual world, instead of getting hands on and mucky.
Well I’m glad I know how to prepare runner beans. I didn’t like them back then, and I still don’t. I have discovered that they may delicious spicy chutney though, so I’ll keep on chopping.

I never did cut myself either, in fact I’m more likely to now, I’m far more blasé. I didn’t burn myself on a hot pan back then either, but in between writing this post and chopping beans I’ve been making blackcurrant jelly. Not only did I burn myself but I also let it boil all over onto the hob , making a sticky red mess to clear up!