Greta's Garden

Sunday, June 18, 2006

June 18 - Father's Day

My dad grew up on a potato farm near Alma, Michigan. So naturally, he's always considered himself a connoisseur of the root, opting to have potatoes at every supper. Mashed, baked, fried, fresh fried, potato salad, hash browns, French fried, stuffed, twice baked, - he loves them all. In my house, supper just wasn't supper without potatoes.

A few years ago, in early March, he helped me plant some.

We created a long mound of dirt and then cut out the middle. I had purchased some seed potatoes at the nearby garden supply store and we dribbled them in the trench. Then we covered them up and let them grow.

When I bought my home in 1995, the former owners, who were also avid gardeners, left a homemade potato digger. My dad found it in the garage, immediately recognizing the shape. So, we used that to dig up our harvest later that summer.

Fresh potatoes - fresh string beans - sliced tomatoes and cucumbers right from the garden -some barbecued chicken and a cold beer on a lazy hot summer's afternoon is pretty tasty. So as newspapers throughout the world today recount stories about fathers everywhere, I take this moment to share one of mine.


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