Butterbeans
Cousin Thelma Bolton’s signature song at the Florida Folk Festival was butterbeans she would usually sing by popular request. I too love butterbeans. Last night around eleven, seeing the ham hock I’d been slicing off sandwiches from, was all but bone, I got a hankering. I then began digging in the freezer, and to my joy, came upon a bag of them good ole butterbeans on the bottom.
This morning before Melanie left for another weekend shift, another story, I asked if she’d add the right amount of water. She did and left saying, now don’t go off and forget them. Well, I hope not. Now if only I had some good ole cornbread, I think the cares of this life would grow strangely dim indeed.
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