In summer, I planted less than a dozen beans (they only call themselves peas to seem more appealing).
There wasn't anything on the packet to indicate they weren't what I was expecting, namely a bush bean. They started to grow, whereupon it became obvious that I'd been uninformed. First, they twined around a cage of green peppers, then cast an eye (they have plenty) toward the big daylily nearby. I hastily erected an opened-out tomato cage for them to climb up.
Before long, actually it was while I was sleeping, they had twined right up that. Next, the weight of the huge vines, leaves and long pods of beans caused that fence to fall over, blocking the path for the remainder of the summer. Since I love black-eyed peas, I let them continue.
The disappointing part, however, was most of the beans were tinged with brown flecks due to our humid summer. Hulling them was a lot of bother when most were spoiled.
They were trying. The kindest thing to do was to let them carry on until frost. Today, I started cutting them free from the fencing and the pepper cage. That's when it became apparent that I had in fact purchased Magic Beans.
Most of the vines were over ten feet long, great strapping monsters that probably would have reached the clouds if they'd had something like a cell phone tower to twine around.
Tossing the remainder of the packet out of the window, I vowed to never grow them again.
