Love Growing Potatoes

I feel like a proper grown up now because I have a planter box. It’s a very nice planter box that I got at a yard sale with my partner. Look how grown up I am! I got all sorts of gardening tools on a trip to the country, and took them back home to start my own little garden on balcony. It has sat there for weeks before the weather starts warming up and I got inspired to get this little garden going. On the weekend, I planted stuff in the box and thus my garden has begun.

If you knew what the view was like outside my window, you’d probably be questioning why I took so long to get started. The view of the brick wall of the building adjacent isn’t exactly an inspiring sight. Turns out you can actually get a decent amount of sun, without actually ever seeing the sun. So I planted some flowers, and they’re coming along nicely because apparently now I’m a botanist?

That said, I’ve actually had some success growing potatoes. As in, actual potatoes that you eat. I haven’t eaten any yet, because they’re still in the delicate infant stage, but it’s fun visit my yard every night and see how they’re doing. It sort of makes up for all the other struggling plants, may the rest in peace. The potatoes however seem to be unencumbered by my lack of green thumb.

I’ve really come to appreciate the value of knowing exactly where your food comes from. At least when I eat these potatoes (or whatever it is you do with food that you grow), I’ll know that I grew them, and nurtured their growth. No additives, no nothing. Of course, me just bringing a raw potato to the cafeteria would be ridiculous. I do have a kitchenette of sorts, but I’d just be sitting up in my room, all alone, eating my potato. Sounds nice come to think of it.

Actually, I should just grow strawberry plants instead. They’re much less sad than potatoes and everyone loves strawberries. Once I’ve born the obligatory comments regarding my red hair, I can enjoy my delicious strawberries. If they grow, that is.