Then I stopped cold.
Those were four beautiful soybean plants. They were leafy and tall and beautiful.
There were two ducks in the backyard when I made the discovery, and they pleaded ignorance. They blame a rabbit, and I have no way of knowing.*
The okra was an experiment. It's something I don't really know if I like or not, but it seemed like a good thing to try.
But the soybeans. Oh, I had such high hopes for the soybeans. To me, they were simultaneously a connection to my Midwestern farming roots and the giver of the exotic-sounding edamame. They were part of my past and part of the person I have become.**
I'm soy sad.
*I would like to state for the record that what came out of my mouth upon seeing the horror was simply, "Wow." What I was thinking, of course, was, "SON OF A BITCH." but what I actually said was, "Wow."
**Yes, I attribute a lot of symbolism to my little 48 sq. ft. You garden your way, and I'll garden mine.