cooking beans pandemic

When I was a kid, my mom used to make a big pot of beans when things got rough. A death. A freeze. Any kind of bad news. I guess I’m channeling Phoebe today.

I got up this morning and put a mess of pinto beans and ham in the crockpot. I have no idea if this is going to work, but I did it. I guess I’m feeling “hard times” are coming.

I think it might have been my mom’s way of dealing with stress. She grew up in the Depression. A lot of kids in her family. They didn’t have much, but I guess they always had beans.

I’m not there yet, but I did buy beans at Publix yesterday. A lot of people were. Canned and dried. I have no idea what the next few weeks will bring, but I think I’m stocked up. Everything I need. Except toilet paper. How strange is that? Not a roll to be found. “Brother, can you spare a dime” was that old Depression song. Thinking about Elaine on Seinfeld… “Brother, can you spare a square??!!”

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