You Say Potato, I say Potato

Still we are waiting on Ford to decide what, if anything, they’re going to offer regarding the catastrophic engine failure in our RV. Waiting is uncomfortable. I like addressing problems, making plans, and moving forward. Instead, all I can do is tend the things I can control and let time do its work. I DO believe that not rushing the process is the correct play. Right? We’ll see, I guess but there is no rush at this point so we practice our patience.

Which leads me back to potatoes, of course.

First, it was the sweet potatoes that were forgotten in the RV, left for dead, only to sprout and become the beginning of a new crop. Now it’s the more standard baking, boiling, mashing sort of potato.

Maybe potatoes have something to teach me.

When people think about a Victory Garden, they often picture shelves full of canned tomatoes or rows of corn. Those have their place, but to grow real calories, potatoes rule. They’re inexpensive, surprisingly nutritious, and produce a lot of calories in a small space. Entire civilizations have depended on them.

The Irish Potato Famine didn’t just devastate and change Ireland it also helped reshape America as millions crossed the Atlantic looking for a new beginning. It’s amazing to me that class struggle and societal evoloution can be so wrapped into something as ordinary as a potato. One of the many plants that have changed the course of history.

Thought I’d take a crack at growing some potatoes.

This year was my own first serious attempt.

I got some seed potatoes from Walmart. They looked good to me with some sprouting. I did maybe leave them in the bag a little longer than I would have liked.

I planted Yukon Gold, Red, and Early potatoes in grow bags. I had visions of overflowing harvests. Mountains of potatoes. Enough to make every gardening YouTuber proud.

Instead, I mostly grew beautiful potato plants.

When harvest day finally came, there weren’t nearly as many potatoes hiding beneath the soil as I’d imagined. Gardening has a funny way of humbling you.

But here’s the thing…

I don’t remember being disappointed.

I remember time with two of my grandkids.

Watching little hands dig through the soil like they were searching for pirate treasure. Every potato, even the marble-sized ones, was greeted with excitement. “There’s another one!” became the soundtrack of the afternoon.

The harvest wasn’t measured in pounds.

It was measured in smiles.

The plate sitting on my counter won’t feed the neighborhood, but every one of those potatoes represents something I didn’t know a few months ago.

Next batch I’ll do better.

I have some larger grow bags now. I’ll adjust the soil. I’ll add more soil at the right times. I’ll experiment with different varieties. I’ll probably double the number of grow bags. That’s how gardening works. Every season teaches you something if you’re willing to pay attention.

They say, gardens are good for people like me.

They force patience.

You can’t argue with a potato into growing faster. You can’t tug on the leaves to make the harvest bigger. You plant, you water, you feed, you fight with the rabbits, you shake your fist at the squirrels,  you wait, and you trust that today’s investment will eventually become tomorrow’s harvest.

Sometimes the reward is a plate full of potatoes.

Sometimes it’s a few minutes with your grandchildren.

And sometimes it’s simply learning that not every season is about abundance. Some seasons are about preparing you for the next one.

Tomorrow the Adventure continues.