The great spud experiment

So in the spring, I hastily threw together a raised bed of relatively blah soil, thinking I would fill it with potatoes. This would make me look like I was finally paying attention to that corner of my plot and it would keep the potatoes out of the way.


I planted about nineteen pieces, probably a bit too close together, and hoped for the best. Today was spud-pulling day.


The final count, including the ones I've already mashed or roasted, is about a gallon's worth. Purples were the tough guys, white ones were nearly missing, and the red variety turned out somewhat mushy.


Would I do it again? Probably not. The flavor isn't spectacular, and I kind of wish I had thrown in a few winter squash instead. The wire fencing around the bed, however, yielded some pretty impressive morning glories (some have "trunks" as thick around as my thumb).

In other harvest news, every one of the thirty or so zucchini has now been consumed, put in cake form, or shredded and frozen for later baking. Whew. Cukes are also gone. Beets await canning, but, fortunately, they're patient. Most of the few tomatoes my plants put out are resting in their ripening crate in the kitchen, still rock hard and bright green. While a few leaves were blackened Thursday night, true, killing frost has not yet struck. Any day now...