Potatoes, Polka, and Prain

Okay, FINE, "prain" isn't a word. I was just so pleased with the alliteration that I wanted to continue with the "P"s, even though the last word is really "rain."

I'm an English geek, okay? Alliteration makes me happy.

ANYWAY.

So! Onward with the "P"s! Beginning with potatoes! Which we started digging up yesterday. And by "we," I mean A. I always try to finagle it so he does the actual digging and I just do the picking up. I managed to collar him yesterday morning for at least some digging, and we got the main-crop potatoes out the ground. Sadly, it is not a particularly impressive harvest this year. The tarp of potatoes does not look like this, for instance. It's okay--we're certainly not going to go without my beloved mashed potatoes--but it's not great. However, I do still have a few more short rows to dig up, and the MiL cleverly planted some potatoes not too long ago that are flowering now and will be ready to dig later, so we have more to add to the harvest total soon.

Next up, polka! We attended the annual Oktoberfest celebration yesterday hosted by Hans (yes, that is his real, honest-to-God name), an old bachelor farmer who immigrated here from Germany when he was about 12 and celebrates his heritage every year by hosting a party in his barn featuring beer and a band playing polkas for around a hundred people. Or however many people end up showing up. There's always chicken, sausage, sauerkraut, and German potato salad, and the guests bring other salads and desserts. This year I brought an apple/pear crisp (peeling that many apples makes my hands hurt) (I know you care about my hands) and stuffed myself with potato salad. I do love my potato salad. As you may remember. Cubby was quite captivated by the band and the hordes of wild children racing around in gangs. He'll get to join them next year, but this year all he could do was watch from my lap while he bounced from foot to foot.

And finally, prain. It was NOT supposed to prain today. It was supposed to be sunny and dry and that is why I was so insistent that we dig potatoes yesterday morning. They need to dry out and cure for a couple of days before they're stored. But the prain is not going to help them dry out, dammit. Stupid newspaper and its stupid incorrect weather forecast. And stupid prain.

So there.