Spuds

Spuds; love hate etc.


We planted spuds at the north west corner.

Just 2 metres by 9 metres. It’s a sheltered corner and gets afternoon shade very early. We’ve run one entire crop through it and the most northern plants were harvested first. Above the first two thirds has been cleaned up, puffed up, covered up and rested. 

Below you can see the first of the second round in the foreground.


I’ve loved the spuds but they have an odd place for the two families as there are multiple ailments and dietary restrictions that mean several of us can’t or don’t eat potatoes.

Yet when I come down the plot with no idea what to cook for dinner I’m always happy to have spuds available. Probably my conditioning. Not just a cultural association, I am Irish. Also a self sustaining drive. If we have spuds it is a large part of the meal. When I look at the plate I see most of it is from my garden and that makes me happy.

The amount you get for so little effort makes it easy to see how they became so important to Ireland during English rule. 

That’s a whole other essay.

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