🥔When potatoes make you cry ðŸ˜
🥔When potatoes make you cry ðŸ˜
Entry#77 on the emotional rollercoaster on edible gardens and mending the broken weave of lost skills
#77
A week ago we dug and cooked and ate homegrown potatoes.
I became very upset during the harvest and had to sort through my distress to find out what was really going on.
I thought I was upset at the way Shawn divided the bounty between us and the friends who gifted us the Agria seed potatoes.
I thought I was upset at the way he didn’t really say much about the glorious tubers I had lovingly grown.
I thought I was upset at not getting many turns to sink my hands into the rich earth and rummage for spuds because everyone else found it so much fun and did all the digging.
But, no.
I eventually realised that my distress and choked-up sobbing was coming from a place where a-little-girl-has-no-memory-of-this-growing-up.
You see, I never ate homegrown potatoes…or homegrown anything. My suburban upbringing was about convenience and food fell firmly into that category as well.
When I posted about this reflection on LinkedIn, one commenter called this phenomenon ‘backdraft’ - the realisation of what was absent.
Agria potatoes, chipped and baked in beef tallow.
Our choices, our home and our garden now are so vastly different to that childhood suburban memory from England. And it’s relatively new for me, I realise. I love it, but there hasn’t been a lot of time/space between then and now.
We really value growing our own kai, preparing meals with items from the garden every single day, knowing what is on our plate. I feel very sure that these skills will serve us all well into the future, when the planet sends louder signals that resources are precious and resilience is a defining human characteristic. But it’s emotional at times.
This adaptation to a changing world, growing up, making decisions, learning new skills and showing our kids a way to live that doesn’t come out of a catalogue…it’s big stuff.
One day at a time - and it’s OK if the potatoes have eye water on them.
That is all for today. As always, I look forward to hearing what you heard, saw and felt when reading this.
With love,
Michelle xx