Thursday the Husband informs me that Saturday we're going to set out the first half of the potatoes we want to set. This means that Friday, we had to cut up 10 50lb bags of potatoes so we could plant them. With sweet potatoes, you just plant the entire potato in the ground (actually you kinda lay them on the ground tightly packed together) and cover them with plastic. In a couple months, voila, you have plants you can transplant in the field. With white potatoes, we have to cut the potatoes into pieces, making sure each piece has an 'eye'. We started just before 9 am and he finished around 3 pm. So my carport looked super lovely with pieces of seed potatoes spread out on tobacco sheets everywhere.
I've driven a tractor. I drove the hayride some last year and will probably do so again this spring for our farm tours. Driving a tractor is one thing, anyone can drive it in a straight line, it's like mowing grass. Driving it with a trailer isn't difficult either, you just have to watch your turns. Driving it while it's hooked up to a machine that is carrying eight people who are planting things in the ground is another. Not only do you control the direction and speed, but this machine moves up and down to control the amount of dirt knocked off the row and implants potato pieces. I already have two strikes against me: a) i'm not coordinated, just ask anyone who has ever seen me attempt any sport whatsoever except maybe skiing, and b) I have my irritated Husband attempting to explain this to me on the fly. I do okay except for the raising/lowering the transplanter part. Apparently there is this 'sweet spot' you have to hit between knocking too much dirt off the row and not enough, and amazingly I cannot determine where that spot is while The Husband shouts directions at me over the hum of the engine. I'm either knocking so much dirt it's slowing the tractor down or I'm not knocking enough. I don't want to give the poor folks on the transplanter motion sickness, but for some reason even though I'm being super easy every time I push or pull on the lever to raise/lower the machine it jerks up and down. At any rate, I only drive for a row and a half, at which point The Husband decides he can't take another meltdown and since it's not working that well anyway he abandons the transplanting idea and breaks out the buckets. I maintain that if I was properly schooled in the whole knocking off dirt thing it wouldn't be difficult to do. The Husband maintains that I am banned from the transplanter.
|View from the Top|
|Sometimes you have to cut your losses|
I really hate to know what plan E was...