potayto potahto

Tonight I went out into the back hall, our cold storage area, and filled a basket with potatoes from this past summer’s garden.

We revel in the pleasure of eating food we’ve grown as we pull things from the back hall or the freezer. We feel connected to the earth knowing we are eating all that loving labor (much of the labor done by my parents, I’ll freely admit). I wish everyone could feel that way. Continue reading