Every March, as I was growing up, my dad planted potatoes on or about St Patrick's Day. I have no idea when/how those potatoes were harvested - lost in the mists of my mind. Me? No, I've never planted potatoes. I often do find potatoes growing in our planting beds - from the green garbage that I have buried there. Each week, rotating locations, I so bury our green garbage. This morning, when my spade brought up a shovelful of dirt to leave a hole into which I should insert the week's green garbage, I espied a tiny potato. Several weeks earlier I had pulled the vine, but had not dug down to see what it was leaving behind.
When I came in from working in the woods, I took the handful of potatoes that I had unearthed to the kitchen sink, cupping the potatoes between my hands as the water ran over them. The photo, below shows the small pile of potatoes that I then deposited on the counter.
When the potatoes hit the counter, I heard a "clunk". See the funny-looking, tiny "potato" that is on the left, next to the potato that is nearest to the camera? It is a rock. I needed to have paid more attention to my harvesting!
Potatoes are amazing things. Younger Son has had quite a crop this year - even though they didn't plant any.
Posted by: Liz Hinds | August 15, 2020 at 07:46 AM
Liz--Maybe our potatoes will see us through the food shortage caused by the pandemic?
Posted by: Cop Car | August 15, 2020 at 09:15 AM
I can see how a rock would blend in with dirt covered potatos. Glad you caught before you tried to cook it - your teeth may not have appreciated chomping down on it.
Posted by: bogie | August 16, 2020 at 03:56 AM