LINDEMAN:
Picking up Pecans, Selling Them to Watson’s

By BRUCE LINDEMAN
Cape Charles Wave

November 8, 2012

It was brisk Sunday morning as we walked over to the next block to pick some of the giant pine cones from the ground that fall this time of year.  They will be useful for dressing the Christmas table with fresh greens such as magnolia, holly, and such and to give away for others’ holiday decorating.

The bag, now full, was big and clumsy so we left it on the front porch before heading out in search of our prime mission: picking pecans.

If you’re a Cape Charles resident, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.  However, what’s intriguing is that so many residents don’t seem to care about the pecans — or so it seems from the sheer amount of them we found still on the ground this year.

Cape Charles is known for its beautiful crepe myrtles and, more recently, its abundance of rosemary which seems to grow so well in our rich Eastern Shore soil.  I could go on about rosemary, but we’re talking pecans here.

Our first visit to town was at the end of winter, oddly.  While most people’s first visit is during summer — a time of blooming perennials, parades, harbor parties, and the like — we came when there were no leaves on the trees, under overcast skies.  Yet we still fell in love with the place.  And we hadn’t even seen the crepe myrtles in bloom yet!

Like most visitors, one of the places I had to go first was Watson’s Hardware.  Ever since we were kids helping my dad restore a 1920s bungalow on the south shore of Long Island, I’ve had this thing for old hardware stores.

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Invariably, my dad would get knee deep into some project and have to stop. He’d declare, “Well, looks like another trip to the hardware store is in order.”

The town I grew up in was pure Americana. On Memorial Day the local armory paraded their loud, gigantic tanks down Main Street, the area fire departments marched in their shiny dress uniforms playing fire department band music, along with the high school marching band and the various veterans organizations.

Main Street was still holding its own with mom and pop shops back in those days and people were proud of their little seaside town.  Sound familiar?

And hardware stores were special places where men could walk in and talk their own special language: “Hey Charlie, I need a 1/8” monkey bit with a 90 degree elbow. Oh, and while you’re at it, grab me a couple of knuckle busters.  I’ve got some sink repairs to knock out as well. Thanks bud.”

Huh? I always felt on the outside of those conversations, like I hadn’t quite reached manhood to understand these men’s language. But Dad would always include us, getting us to hold the bag of stuff, and explaining what it was used for. Gradually, I learned a bit of the language but never became as fluent as my dad.

I still love old hardware stores. One thing that brought a smile to my face when I first walked around Watson’s, wiping dust off things that had obviously been on the shelf for some time, was the grocery cart full of pecans. When I mentioned this to a friend, he chuckled and said they paid the kids in town something like $1 for every pound of pecans they brought in and then charged us come-heres $8 for that same pound.

All of this made me laugh, of course, true or not.  Capitalism was alive and well here on the Shore.

While out walking one day after we had settled into our house I stumbled upon one of those trees where the kids should have been picking up pecans and selling them to Watson’s. There were so many pecans that I excitedly stuffed my pockets, went home, and showed my wife and kids. We all grabbed shopping bags and off we went.

That afternoon I sat at the dining room table and shelled 6 quarts of pecans until my fingers bled. We froze the nuts and used them for pies and other treats throughout the year.

That was two years ago. Last Sunday morning, we walked over to check on a few friends’ homes to ensure they made it through the storm without damage. We also knew there was a pecan tree behind their houses somewhere.

Oh my. We weren’t prepared. In a mere 30 minutes, my wife and I picked 15 pounds of nuts. Yes — she weighed them on a scale.

We easily could’ve picked 15 more pounds if we wanted.  But the thought of shelling all those nuts made me think we certainly had enough. Besides, there are more pecans left for others to pick.

I’m all for supporting my local economy. We shop in town as much as we can to help keep our local shops open, which in turn keeps our town vibrant and alive. And I’m in Watson’s quite often to get that odd thing to complete some project I’m working on at the house. But I don’t feel the need to buy pecans that we can pick for free.

Besides, certain things are just more gratifying when you do them yourself — whether it’s picking pecans or installing that ¾” x ¼” brass compression female hose swivel adapter.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Bill Watson reports a glut on the market for pecans this year, and he’s dropped his offering price. He did mention that he’s paying a premium for soft shell pecans.