wax on, wax off

I had a thought-provoking drive to work yesterday morning, for three reasons.

(Two for the price of one--my kind of ear of corn!)

First, I saw not one, not two, but three partner-less shoes strewn along the Thruway. How does this happen? How does one shoe find its way out the window? I find it completely baffling, yet see it all the time.

Second, the morning djs on my favorite radio station are idiots. They were making fun of one of their interns because he thought Washington D.C. was located in the state of Washington. Yeah, that's pretty bad, but when he asked them where it really was, they unanimously declared that it was in Virginia. Dolts.

Finally, I was passed by one of the most unique vehicles I've ever seen. The vehicle itself wasn't unique--it was a plain ol' minivan. No, what made it unique was the set of what had to be moose antlers adhered to the roof. I laughed out loud, and I'm still chuckling about it.


Here's a poser--who would want to eat a bean that's reminiscent of wax? The name just doesn't sound particularly appetizing.

One of my co-workers has a lovely garden and he has recently taken pity on me and offered to share his bounty. My first bag of goodies contained a few cucumbers, several banana peppers, and a whole bunch of yellow wax beans.

Here's my dilemma, folks: I've never before dealt with wax beans. I was raised on green beans--the kind with lots of strings (do you call them string beans?) that you snap into bite-size pieces (perhaps you call them snap beans). I'm not sure what to do with these little yellow sticks and will gladly accept any suggestions you might have.


In the meantime, watch out for mutant corn, rogue shoes, stupid radio personalities, and armed minivans.