The spuds are here! The spuds are here!
And because I couldn’t wait until I could bludge an empty egg carton they are sitting and ‘chitting’ on my kitchen table in TheToddler’s matchbox car case. (My eggs are still sitting in Tupperware in the fridge because the last batch of cartons are currently nestling snow pea shoots.)
I’ve got my first trial ‘spud towers’ on the go at EastWinds and will build another half dozen this Sunday, seated in the garden in my ‘reclaimed recliner’ (a street curb rescue pair that are now permanently situated between the wool bales, the Bondwood and the cement mixer firepot for working weekends) with a pair of (new!) pink tin snips. That alone should speed the job up, which I’m grateful for, because it was excruciating last week using the side-blades of an old pair of pliers. I think I’m still suffering from the RSI.
I’ve got two varieties of sweet potato on the go – an orange and a purple variety – and both the local Mitre10 staff and my South African (SAFA) friends insist I can simply treat them the same as potatoes, although the books insist their a completely different tuber.
But, the whole point of this blog…the spuds are here!
I’m a little disappointed that I don’t have my coloured flesh spuds (I think I ordered the wrong set) but I have the very cool Pink Firs – which are long and nobbly, the dark-skinned Royal Blue and red-skinned Mozarts.
However, after MyMan got stuck into the half-fenced garden at my town house this afternoon after cooking for four hours at the kids’ sport, I can see that it wouldn’t hurt to make another internet order and fill both gardens with spuds. Everyone loves potatoes, right?
Right!
The spuds are here! The spuds are here!
And because I couldn’t wait until I could bludge an empty egg carton they are sitting and ‘chitting’ on my kitchen table in TheToddler’s matchbox car case. (My eggs are still sitting in Tupperware in the fridge because the last batch of cartons are currently nestling snow pea shoots.)
I’ve got my first trial ‘spud towers’ on the go at EastWinds and will build another half dozen this Sunday, seated in the garden in my ‘reclaimed recliner’ (a street curb rescue pair that are now permanently situated between the wool bales, the Bondwood and the cement mixer firepot for working weekends) with a pair of (new!) pink tin snips. That alone should speed the job up, which I’m grateful for, because it was excruciating last week using the side-blades of an old pair of pliers. I think I’m still suffering from the RSI.
I’ve got two varieties of sweet potato on the go – an orange and a purple variety – and both the local Mitre10 staff and my South African (SAFA) friends insist I can simply treat them the same as potatoes, although the books insist their a completely different tuber.
But, the whole point of this blog…the spuds are here!
I’m a little disappointed that I don’t have my coloured flesh spuds (I think I ordered the wrong set) but I have the very cool Pink Firs – which are long and nobbly, the dark-skinned Royal Blue and red-skinned Mozarts.
However, after MyMan got stuck into the half-fenced garden at my town house this afternoon after cooking for four hours at the kids’ sport, I can see that it wouldn’t hurt to make another internet order and fill both gardens with spuds. Everyone loves potatoes, right?
Right!
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