Pasquale, 40-something-year-old Quarter Horse, speaks his mind
What I wouldn't give for a mouthfulla good ol' Texas mesquite beans right now. I can almost taste 'em; I love those crunchy, flat, triangular energy boostin' beans. This time o' the year always gets me thinkin' about how much I miss them - and my Texas herd buddies. I don't know what nutrients are in those beans, but they sure are good. Their shiny little flat kernels are hard as rock to chew, but maybe that's why my teeth are still so good at 40-somethin'.
In our Texas pasture we had a little forest of mesquite trees and we stood around beneath 'em to escape that hot Texas sun. We liked the low shade they made, but we grumbled about the spikey thorns in 'em that we had to watch out for and duck under. Although they were kinda nice if we had a big itch, or somethin' stuck in our incisors (heh heh). But come the end of summer, their beans were startin' to get mature and it was worth every puncture wound to have those trees around. We all ate them with relish. (I don't mean we put relish on them, I mean we relished them.) We couldn't wait to eat those mesquite beans. If we ate 'em too early, they just didn't taste the same. If we waited too long, somebody else'd have 'em cleaned off the trees. We had to time it right; they didn't last too far into the winter. And if we ate too many, we'd get a bellyache. I often wondered how so many mesquite trees would pop up so fast when we ate every bean in sight. Magic, I guess, or some other miracle of Nature.
If any of y'all Texans wanna send a present to your ol' buddy P-pot, send me some mesquite beans that might be still hangin' around. (You won't miss 'em.) I sure would appreciate it. That's if the hot summer y'all had down there didn't fry all those beans to a crisp. I kinda got to appreciatin' my cool Yankee summers, and this past summer was sure a cool wet one. But I sure do miss those beans. It would sure help me get through the co-o-o-ld winter up here. Thanks in advance, y'all.