Earlier this week I decided it was time to dig the potatoes. Actually, it wasn’t much of a decision. We had finished super early that evening thanks to a pan of lasagna my sister-in-law dropped off and Sissy was off working with her steer for the fair with my brother. (More on that to come.) This left Potato Boy and LuLu at home getting a little restless. So, I figured playing in the garden might keep them from disturbing the peace in the house. Plus, since the potatoes had started drying down – partially because they had matured and partially because of the drought we’re in – I had started seeing signs that made me nervous to leave them in the ground much longer.

A Mouse Hole Next To A Hill Of Potatoes

A Potato Attacked By A Grub

My two main concerns were a couple of mouse holes that started popping up around the potatoes and the number of grub eaten potatoes I was starting to find – I lost 90% of my potatoes (about 8 hills) 3 years ago in our small town garden to grubs – I’ve been a little gun shy since.

So, with shovel and tote in hand – and Potato Boy and LuLu close behind – we set off for the garden. (I shouldn’t need to explain that digging potatoes for Potato Boy is like the 4th of July for Captain America.)

The Greenest Of The Plants

A Small Hill Of Red Potatoes

Potato Boy and LuLu Helping Out

I’d guess with the potatoes we already ate, and the few hills I left to dig later, we’ll easily end up with over 200 pounds of potatoes – most of which are now stored away in the basement. I’m happy with that given that we’ve now been classified as a moderate drought area and I never watered the potatoes.

The russets were plenty in number but small in size. I think it was simply too dry for them. The reds where all over the place. The very worst hills had at least three ping-bong ball sized spuds. The best hills had an entire meal for five under one plant. Size ranged anywhere from larger than a baseball to marble sized. They seemed to be the grubs favorites. The Kennebecs were the most consistent producer from hill to hill with a good number of potatoes under each plant ranging in size from a marble to just under the size of a softball.

It turned out to be a good night. Potato Boy and LuLu had a blast and got a little dirty – ok, very dirty – but nothing that didn’t wash off in the tub.