A hundred, or ninety.

I thought I’d wait 100 days. Back on February 10th, I thought that. It was a rainy day. A day the rain reminds you of a marina. Damp and grey in ways inland rains aren’t always.

I don’t eat potatoes often. I love them. In butter and salt. Roasted in oil and salt. Sliced and baked with cheese and butter. Mashed with heavy cream. Soup with cheddar and bacon. Gnocchi. I’m not sure there’s a way you can cook potatoes that I don’t salivate at.

There are a lot of things I love to eat that I don’t often. My body doesn’t love everything that I do, and I try my best to listen and respect its wishes.

But it’s Mother’s Day tomorrow. And mothering is a *thing*. So I’m indulging and will deal with the fallout in the days or weeks that follow.

And so, in the spirit of rebellion, of the personal and pensive sort, I dug potatoes. At ninety days. Any other heft they may have in ten days more I wouldn’t need, as more to eat would simply be prolonged temptation.

…I think this is fair to call prolonged temptation as it is.

I didn’t finish harvesting. The bucket was full.

I hope, today, tomorrow, and every day, your bucket is full. Full of fulfillment and hope. Full of rebellion and peace. Full of serenity and glee and so much in between. Fill up your bucket, however you need, but fill up your bucket indeed.


4 comments on “A hundred, or ninety.

  1. Sheryl says:

    I can understand why you decided to indulge and dig some potatoes before Mothers’ Day. I love new potatoes.

  2. What a lovely piece – thank you! Potatoes are the balm! (And the bomb!) What a glorious harvest. I just made my mother’s potato salad and having it later with a whole chicken on the grill.

    Her potato salad was always a staple on Mother’s Day. This year is a challenge because I can’t enter the assisted living place she’s in and she can’t leave. And she’s having trouble managing her phone, so contact is rather sporadic. But when we can finally get together in the backyard, I’m sure potato salad will be involved.

    Happy Mother’s Day!

  3. shoreacres says:

    Your potatoes look like jewels: black and white pearls, and amethysts. I think digging them up was exactly the right thing to do, and I hope they tasted wonderful.

  4. Karen says:

    Oh I loved this post as I really feel the same way about potatoes as you. More importantly I love your wish…so special, especially at this time. Thank You!

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