Goodness, how delicious!

Sitting by the Roadside on a summer’s day, 

Chatting with my messmates passing time away,
Lying in the shadow underneath the trees, 

Goodness how delicious, eating goober peas!
Peas! Peas! Peas! Peas! Eating goober peas! 

 Goodness how delicious, eating goober peas!

That was a popular Confederate marching song. There are several more verses.

I am partial to salted-in-the-shell peanuts and I brought a few pounds of them back on my latest supply run. The dogs share my interest in goober peas. Actually, that is an understatement. They are passionate about them! I can't sit on the deck and have a few without the "peanut gallery showing up and wanting their fair share. I'm aware of the cautions about nuts for dogs, but a normal shucking session doesn't give them more than about a half dozen each— while I struggle to get a few for myself! (I've experimented with just giving them the peanuts in the shell. They will crush the shells and extract the nuts, but they would rather I do that for them.)

By the way, a shelled peanut is about the only comestible that changes Mag's usual exaggerated food-caution. If I offer her a morsel of steak, she will sniff it and inspect it for a second or two before taking it. And there will be the same ritual for the second, third, and fourth helping. But a peanut she snags without delay, inspection, or suspicion. Goodness, how delicious!