Their job was to get the hard beans out of their dried pods. These beans were seed stock, for planting.
They took these stout staffs and then the feckless pods got the tar wailed out of them.
They all become jumping beans at this point, and you could almost hear the little bean voices crying that they didn't do it, that it was the peas! But their pleas go unheeded and the whoopin' continues.
Then, the worst over, and just a gentle sweeping away of their battered former selves and they are rough-birthed, shiny white beans.
We ran in to Muthiani's father, whom I had not yet met,
and this young magician...now you see the baby
...now you don't.
Peter wrassli' with the blue snake...pumping water from our tank to the one in the back of the pick up. Our mobile watering unit for soil compaction.
Gilbert on the other end of the operation
The crater is now more lunar than meteorite.
Two tuck loads of hard core to line the spillway
The faceless ones inside who tossed it out
Read more in Part IV
Posted on October 28th, 2007 by david
Filed under: Recent News
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