Fiacré's spade: Personal potato famine

When I got back from vacation, the Superior potatoes weren’t looking good. I dug them all and found many of the rotted. The north side of the garden is slightly higher than the south side. I began on the north, and about halfway down the row, they were all rotted. I stopped digging and pulled the plants out. I dug one plant of Red La Soda, and the potatoes were all beautiful. I thought that we could wait to dig those until the foliage died back. This was an incorrect assumption.

July 20, 2.6” of rain. July 22, 2.5” of rain. July 23, 0.75” of rain. This is the south side of the garden on July 24.

Flooding on the south side of the garden

The soil in the garden has a high proportion of clay. We could have dug the potatoes after the first rain, but it would have been miserable, muddy work. We just had to wait it out and hope that it wouldn’t rain for a couple of days. Today it was dry enough to dig, although still soft. Terry loaded all the wine boxes that he’d been saving (he thinks they are the best for potatoes because they are sturdy) into the back of his gator and met Hilda and me at the garden at 8:30. And the potatoes were almost all rotted. Terry says 98% loss. I say near total failure. It was disheartening work. There were numerous, large, beautiful potatoes in the ground, completely liquefied under their skin. I have said this before, I’m sure, but it bears repeating—until you smell it for yourself, it is difficult to believe a plant can create a stench as bad as a rotten potato. A smelly smell, as Mr. Krabbs (SpongeBob’s boss) would say, that smells smelly. On par with a skunk, if not worse.

Terry did the digging. “I can see how the Irish could lose the whole potato crop overnight,” he said.

We got the most from the Red La Soda, although when we washed them off, we found about half of what we thought were sound potatoes were rotten. The Red Norland were the worst. Even the potatoes growing near the top of the soil were rotten. If we had just harvested them the day I dug up that one….but the should-haves don’t count. We couldn’t know we were going to get 6” of rain in 5 days. Does it bother anyone else that we are having 30-year floods every four years?

This is our total harvest. “We’ll be through that by August,” Terry said.

The total potato harvest, left to right, Red Norland, Norkotah, Kennebec, Red La Soda

“I hate to lose our potatoes,” Hilda said, thinking of all the flooded homes by the rivers around here, “but I’d rather lose them than everything we own.”

Yes, potatoes are commercially available and very cheap. It’s the wasted effort that rankles. And potatoes you grow yourself taste better. Maybe I will be moved to visit a farmers’ market.

We also suspect that there will be no green beans this year. The whole row is severely wilted.

We do, however, have some remarkable Napa cabbage this year.

Beautiful Napa cabbage and our first tomato

We got the garlic harvested on Monday before it rotted. The good news was that the ground was so soft that they pulled right out, no pitchfork needed. We hung it under the new shade shelter that I ordered last year so we would not have to dry the potatoes and onions in the garage. We may still get onions. They are looking pretty good.

Garlic under the new shade shelter

The last of the bad news is that Spot had to be put down. He/she was one of the meat chickens who had a serious case of failure to thrive. We even got out the Little Red Hen Barn so he could have access to food without having to fight with the big boys, but it didn’t help.

The other chicks are doing well. We had to clip the pullet’s wings last week so they wouldn’t fly over the fence.

Juanita, Idalis, and two meat chickens

I walked down to my wetland restoration on Monday to see what was blooming. I could see the pale purple flowers when I drove by, but couldn’t identify them. It’s obedient plant. It’s huge! Huge! Last year, these were isolated individuals here and there, maybe 2.5 feet tall. This year, there are large clumps nearly as tall as I am!

Obedient plant as tall as I am

The cardinal flowers are still a strong presence, which makes my heart glad. I love that intense red color.

Cardinal flower

I saw swamp milkweed blooming for the first time. I transplanted a bunch of them two or three years ago just before a drought. Apparently a few made it. Bonus—there was a monarch on one this one. That was the goal, after all.

Monarch on swamp milkweed

Whoo-boy, there was a lot of water back there.

The mowed trail behind the wetland restoration

It was so deep that the waves I made from walking splashed over the top of my Wellies. There had to be 12” of standing water. No tadpoles, but literally millions of mosquito larva. Sure hope the water dries up fast!