“Some I Prepared Earlier…”

   I have been away for a week.

Nothing has changed here, nothing has stayed the same.

I wander, almost aimlessly into the downstairs loo – the potatoes are in there, quietly chitting away,

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minding their own businesses. I had quite forgotten them. Arran Pilot, Desiree and Picasso in various boxes to promote good growth

(well that’s the plan right?).

My mission is to clear the land – my winter digging really is very rough and the ground is nowhere near level: it’s my usual style. If I had to explain – please don’t make him,

the nurses don’t like it when he gets upset so – I would say it is to let the weather get at a larger surface area, do more good, kill more weed seeds. Actually it’s simply a habit.

So today I take some seed potatoes up to the plot and head to the plots (we have three between us).

I am surprised again: I had forgotten that I had laid the slab paths, and, yes they are still there. I feel quite proud of myself and stand and admire my handiwork.

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Then there’s the chatter … did you have a good time … where … how much schnapps … never heard of it … no I don’t … blah blah and the soil isn’t being raked and the potatoes

roll their chit filled eyes to heaven (in my imagination anyways).

Eventually I crack on. Back into the work. Trench, potato fertiliser, chicken muck pellets, potato. Move the line, repeat. Again and again.

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In levelling and planting I am also tidying up the plot. the pile of riddled soil goes back into the “carrot barrel”, scattered sticks are sorted 9the good ones for row-markers, the

unsound ones into the brazier.

And by the time I have finished cabbages have been up-rooted and distributes, weeds pulled up (onto the compost heap), big stones put aside, and the ground looks like a vegetable plot again.

Back at home last year’s harvest looks like this:

 

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But, come on, we did our best.

 

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