I follow several blogs and vlogs. It can be a bit disconcerting when one just stops posting new stuff without any explanation.
Did they die? Were they kidnapped? Inhaled by an alien? Did they fall on the sidewalk, hit their head and lose their way back to their keyboard? Are they out there even now, just wandering the streets, with no idea who they are or what they used to do with their free time? When content stops coming, you are simply left to wonder your wonders. But I get it. Life happens.
The last post I wrote was in July 2019 when I promised to show pictures of the potatoes in our front yard the very next week. And then I never posted again. Until now. While I highly doubt anyone has been missing me or giving a second thought to not getting to see those promised pictures of the potager potato patch, I apologize nonetheless.
Darcy retired at the end of July and we spent the rest of the summer doing a raft of home renos and regrouping. We are currently in a stage of “what now” and “what next.” While the exit from the business that had consumed our lives for the better part of three decades was very intentional, there was not a lot of thought given as to what would happen afterwards. We still aren’t sure.
Will we move yet again? Stay put? Start a new venture? There’s a lot to consider as we head into the latter stage of our lives. All I can say for certain is wherever life takes us (or doesn’t) there will be a garden. I hope.
But enough of all that. Here, six months late, is a picture of those potatoes!
The potatoes are in the middle bed. There ended up being a decent harvest. Decent enough we are still eating potatoes from the garden in January. Well, we are actually eating potatoes from storage in the garage, not from the garden, but you know what I mean. It’s January in the Peace Country after all.
As for the community garden, I only got two hills worth of new potatoes before someone made off with every single spud. All 34 hills. At once. I couldn’t believe it.
I’ve participated in several community gardens over the years, though this was my first in this particular location. When you grow vegetables in an open and easily accessible communal space, you expect to lose some of your produce. It’s simply par for the course. However, I wasn’t expecting to lose it all. It was so shocking it was kind of funny.
Our summer walks often take us past the school and its community gardens and that’s what we were doing when we discovered the loss.
As we strolled by, we both automatically looked over at my four garden beds and were stopped in our tracks at the sight-or lack thereof-of potato tops. On closer inspection the tops had all been neatly piled in a heap at one end of the four freshly dug up beds.
At least I got two massive garbage bags worth of compost ingredients for my bins. Ha.
They even made off with the cabbages and chard. The only thing left was one lonely cabbage plant and that was just because it had a wee half-formed head. When I cleaned up the potato tops I considered pulling up the tiny cabbage out of spite, but I just couldn’t do it.
A week later the cabbage-still small but apparently deemed big enough for the soup pot-was gone as well. All I could do was laugh and hope whoever took everything needed it more than us. And who knows, maybe the taste of home grown vegetables will inspire them to grow their own garden this year and in turn change their lives. It could happen.
The new garden season has officially begun with the arrival of seed catalogues. Despite not being sure where life will take us next, I will still be planting a few seeds. Though probably not in the community garden.