It’s true that there is a bit of red in the dirt in the field you can see beyond the first row of trees. But, those redish areas allow you to see rows in Joe’s potato and corn field. You can also see the white of the fence. He put a solar electric fence around the field so the bunnies would leave the beets alone and the deer would leave the corn alone. Moles are still going for the potatoes, but there are so many, I guess we can share a few if they don’t get out of hand. Interestingly, a deer could quite easily jump the fence. However, there is a second fence with no electricity, just some white cord with ribbons dangling. It’s placed at a carefully selected distance inside the electric fence and serves to confuse the deer, who cannot quite judge the distance and don’t know it’s not electrified. It’s doesn’t seem like something that would be so effective, but he’s used the technique elsewhere, and it actually does work.
Plowing up a small field was quite a lot of trouble, especially given the rockiness of the soil. This is not the rock-free, black Midwestern dirt from where I grew up. This is a heavy, rich clay soil that contains lots of rock, and I mean lots of rock. I was dubious on the concept of going to all that trouble, plus the trouble of planting, hoeing, and hilling, for plain old potatoes. You can get plenty of potatoes at the supermarket. However, I have now changed my mind. I truly had NO idea that home grown potatoes were so superior to store-bought potatoes. They say everyone has an elemental starch of preference, usually the starch that was served most frequently in one’s childhood. For me, pasta and bread reign supreme. For Joe, I think it’s potatoes. After eating freshly dug potatoes, however, I might convert.
Since the bunnies and the drenching spring rains did a number on my green beans in the vegetable garden, I’ve put in a row of beans in Joe’s fenced field. I’ve got my fingers crossed that they’ll sprout given the current heat.
Update: as I was posting this, Joe came in from feeding the chickens. He had been outside for longer than usual, and, while I was writing, I was vaguely wondering was he was doing. Well, it turns out that he was out there watering my as-yet unsprouted beans. How's that for synchronicity?
what a wonderful life you lead. My father grew potatoes in advance of any lawn he ever laid. I agree - they are vastly superior to shop bought ones in flavour.
