Okay, friends and relatives, it’s the end of September and another birthday is here. Mine. (Yes, I realize my hinting technique is not subtle.)
What I want to do about it, or not do as the case may be, is, as usual, unresolved. I’m open to suggestions.
I was thoroughly puzzled when my husband, Chris, came home one night recently carrying a gigantic bag full of lima beans. He launched into a story about how his father had brought home unshucked limas once a year, and how — in homage to a neighbor’s family name, Lyman — they jokingly called them “Lyman beans” around the dinner table.
“So what?” I wanted to know.
Did he and his siblings actually like them?