Tuesday, November 16, 2010

One potato, two potato, three potato, four...

Early last summer the garden center had red potato seedlings. I planted a few in the yard just for kicks.

We had had fun growing potatoes in straw beds years ago in San Diego...maybe planting them in real soil would give us a crop worth talking about.

After all, are we not just one state down from Idaho, famous for growing potatoes? Wouldn't it be probable that being nearby would mean we would experience a great degree of potato growing success?

I had dug up a few by the time Bernie came down to snap a few photos of our "harvest". His back was tweaked out, and there was to be a hard freeze, so I "pioneer-woman'd" up and did the necessary spade work to lift our taters out.

(BTW: My grad school, TWU, are the Pioneers. And we are still undefeated this football season!)

May I just say that digging up potatoes planted in straw beds is a whole heck of a lot easier than digging them up in heavy soil?

I'll bet you already knew that.

I dug and re-dug the dirt, determined to unearth every single blessed spud.

This was fun for about, oh, say, four minutes tops.

If more potatoes had popped up after the first turn, I might have enjoyed the activity more. As it was, I also realized that I would have been wise to have put on a pair of gardening gloves. Dirt beneath my nails: not pretty.

So there they are, fresh from the dirt, with a few other veggies plucked against the upcoming cold.

That lone shallot and yellow bell pepper sure made for a meager crop. When I think of how much good soil we hauled in to the vegetable plot, and all the watering and feeding we did....sheesh. What a rip off.

See? I really did dig out every blessed potato, and I didn't care how little they were. They were MY potatoes!

Take note: I will concede to Idaho's glory and purchase potatoes from them at the grocery store or road side stand in the future.

Lord knows my family didn't risk everything leaving Ireland to come to America back in the late 1800's so future generations could still be digging potatoes.

Especially not as woman with an advanced degree from TWU. Pioneers make for a great mascot, but I do not aspire to play out the role when really I don't have to. I maybe blond, but I'm not that dumb!

(They do look nice all scrub up though, don't you think?)

7 comments:

Vicki said...

Beautiful potatoes, Jill! I've often wondered about your little garden and if you harvested anything from it. By the way: wearing gloves is a must, not just to prevent dirt under the nails, but to protect from blisters and calluses!

ellen b. said...

Maybe your next move will be to a farm in Idaho. Well done. I'm impressed. Do you watch Amazing Race? You made me think of the episode where the contestants planted potatoes in Russia...

Anneliese said...

Oh Jill, I sat here giggling at your row of smallest to largest potatoes! I can tell you took ownership of those potatoes!

Islandsparrow said...

Bet they tasted darn good!

Judy ~ My Front Porch said...

They scrubbed up very nicely! And though my potato growing efforts have been about as fruitless as yours...it seems I continue to try the experiment. There's just something about having spuds from the garden!

Sara said...

Who knew potatoes would make such good art photography?? They look delicious....and very clean.

Vee said...

Well, goodness, I certainly do hope that they taste delicious after all that hard work and eager anticipation.