Potatoes

I planted some purple potatoes tonight in the round garden in the side yard. Undoubtedly in the time that the original owners farmed this land (1905 to 1984), it was the kitchen garden, filled with herbs and things handy for food preparation. When I moved in, it was a rusted fence holding a tangle of grass.

I have wrestled with the grass, planting perennial herbs from time to time since then, and the grass and the herbs have always gotten the better of me. Now, the 12-foot round garden, with a fairly decent fence, holds the chives, rhubarb, and asparagus roots, planted some 25 years ago that throw up one or two sprouts and delicate ferns just to keep me hopeful.

Last year, with my primary garden under relative control, I reclaimed half of the round garden and studiously planted seed potatoes, given to me by John T., in two eight-foot trenches which I filled in as the plants grew tall. I estimated at the time that I would get about 100 or so pounds of potatoes.

When I harvested about 10 pounds all told, I wondered if it was the lack of water that kept their yields low. The two volunteer purple fingerling potato plants in the main garden yielded as much.

So I wasn’t totally surprised to find about 10 plants, potatoes that I missed when harvesting last fall, growing strong this spring. Tonight, I quickly cut up the sprouted purple potatoes from the pantry and threw them into the soil in between the established potato plants.

This year, there are no trenches. This year, there was no research about how to grow tubers. This year, there is no expectation as to yield, or anything really, beyond gratefulness that my hurried harvest left behind seeds for this year’s growth.

Who knows, this year I may get a crop of potatoes--purple and yellow, both.

I wonder if sometimes we spend a little too much energy trying to get things right when actually it's the happenstance of the situation which makes it all work out in the end.

I'll keep you posted.