I used to call them taters. Now I call them Tato’s. ‘Cause that’s what Winnie calls them. Monday was the day to plant them. It was actually a bit late, by over a month. Unfortunately, it has just been that kind fo a gardening year. Everything has been getting pushed back and delayed by all kinds of other things that need to happen, mostly work.
In spare moments in the shop before morning chores I have been putting together tools and jigs to begin a new woodworking project. I am going to try to build a door out of scrap lumber and replace the breaking door of the shop. If I am successful, I will hopefully be able to make all the doors for the farm house remodel and save us a few thousand bucks.
One of the steps in that process is this jointing jig for the new planer. If it looks like it is just a flat piece of double ply 3/4″ plywood, that’s because that’s all it is. More on that later.
We pulled the potatoes out of the basement. They have been sprouting in the dark down their for months.
These are the small potatoes left over from last year’s harvest. Yukons, Butterballs and some kind of purple potato.
Some of them have been trying really hard to grow.
I make the holes, Winnie drops them in.
When they have long runners I spread them out in a trench to cover more ground.
Little tato, little hole.
And what, you wonder, are the other hooligans up to?
They are busy rigging up a pully system to get buckets of dirt and toys into and out of the ash tree.
After the potatoes were planted we had just enough time to pull a load of weeds to feed to the cows, including a whole stack of Iris’ favorite bolted turnips. She can’t get enough of those things.
It is a bumpy year, farm and garden-wise. We are doing our best, but right now other things take priority, like National Guard (boo!) and prepping for the remodel (Yay!)
Little Farm in the Big City 