There they were. Little ruby treasures buried in the dirt. Potatoes!

Last year, Big Papa and I tried our hand at garbage can potato farming. Our first crop yielded eighty-one potatoes, which by our estimation qualified as a successful venture.  Potatoes are one of those mystery crops that develop out of sight, underground. You never really know how you’re doing until you harvest. Since we were first-timers, it was a pleasant surprise to dump out the can and find so many.

We’re at it again this year. With our Rose Fingerling “seed potatoes” and a thirty-gallon plastic garbage can at the ready, we’ll roll out the start of our 2010 crop today, March 17.

St. Patrick’s Day is a convenient reminder that potato season is with us once again. I’ve heard that the Irish say to “get yer potatoes in the ground before St. Paddy’s.” The exact time may vary a bit, but early spring is potato planting time. The earliest you should plant seed potatoes is two weeks before your last anticipated freeze date of 28 degrees Fahrenheit or lower. In Seattle, where I live, we’re ‘Zone 8’ for gardening, which means the time is now to get those spuds sprouting.

Folks may wonder why in the world anyone would want to grow potatoes in a plastic garbage can. Well let me tell you, potatoes grow deep, and digging them out is no picnic. Potatoes are also fond of soft, well prepared soil where they can easily take root. And, they hog space, eating up precious planting real estate in the garden. Last, but not least, potatoes should never be planted in the same place year after year because they infect their own soil and cause next year’s crops to get blight (remember that little potato famine that took its toll on the population of Ireland?).

For those of us who don’t have much space in our gardens (like Big Papa and I), garbage can potato gardening is the way to go. So if you want to till some ‘taters, here’s what you need:

• Clean 30-gallon plastic garbage can


• Drill with a 1/2 inch bit


• Seed potatoes (available from your local garden/nursery) – Note: potatoes bought at the grocery store are frequently treated to keep them from sprouting


• 3 cubic feet or 1 large bag of good quality, well draining potting soil or straw


• Organic vegetable fertilizer with low nitrogen content (nitrogen causes the leaves to grow fast and big but your potatoes end up being teeny weenie). Look for a 5-10-10 ratio


• Compost

When you get your potato making “kit” together, here’s what you do:

Step 1: Turn your garbage can upside down and drill several holes in the bottom of the can. Add a few around the outside wall, 3 to 6 inches up from the bottom. It’s really important to have good drainage or your potatoes will rot.

Step 2: Good soil is the key. Dump 2/3 of your bag of potting soil in the can. Mix in 1 cup of your fertilizer and set aside.

Step 3: Small seed potatoes can be planted whole. Larger potatoes should be cut up into pieces with no less than 3 “eyes” per piece (“eyes” are the brown dimples that the roots grow from). Let your potatoes dry out on the cut side before you plant them.

Step 4: Once your cut potatoes have dried, plant them in your can 5 inches apart and cover with the remaining soil. You’ll only need 4 starts to a can. Set the can in an area that receives 4 to 6 hours of direct sunlight.

Step 5: Water thoroughly and keep the soil moist but not soggy during the growing season. Don’t let the soil dry out or you’ll end up with misshaped potatoes. On the hot summer days, your potato garbage can might need to be watered daily (you can move the can to a slightly shadier location on the hottest days).

Step 6: As the plants start to grow in the can (about 6 inches above the soil), mound up compost or straw around plant stems keeping the leaves uncovered. Keep adding compost or straw as they grow. You’ll eventually fill up the entire can with compost by the end of the growing season. Keep it watered.

Step 7: Your plants will start forming flowers.

Step 8: Fall harvest. At harvest time, you can wait for the flowers to start to fade and grow what looks like berries. Harvest a few potatoes now, by reaching into the soft soil and picking a few, then covering everything back up with compost. These early potatoes are “new potatoes” and they spoil quickly, so eat them right away.

For bigger, storing potatoes, wait to harvest after the green plants have turned yellow to brown and have dried up or died back. Dump the entire can over (onto a tarp) and pick out your potatoes. The soil can be collected and added to a flower or herb garden or put into yard waste. You don’t want to plant potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, or eggplant in the “used” potato soil because it likely harbors insects or disease from this season’s crop.

Step 9: Eat ‘em! We roasted ours with some olive oil and kosher salt. Yum. Store your potatoes in a cool, dry place and keep on eating them!

Our potatoes were divine and it was a huge thrill to dump out the garbage can and count our “loot.” I told Big Papa I thought this would be a great annual tradition. I can’t wait to compare our potato haul from year to year. And I look forward to sharing the fun and the ‘tatos with our kiddo.

It is easy to halve the potato where there is love.
~Irish Proverb

Hungry for more? Read Wanderfood Wednesday.

A sea of drop-down boxes floated in front of me on my computer screen.  All I needed to do was complete this form to sign up and become a member of a new local resource group for parents in my neighborhood. First name, last name, birthday and address; I typed away, eagerly filling in the blanks. Password: check. Home phone: yup. Children: uh-oh.

There it was, an entire section devoted to describing my progeny in detail. Name, gender, and birth date with empty boxes waited for my information. Of course, if I wasn’t “with child” quite yet, I could opt for “Still Expecting?”  Going this route, I’d fill in my due date and whether I’m expecting “singleton, twins, triplets, quadruplets or quintuplets.”

I searched for the “other” category, always a safe refuge for those square pegs trying to fit into a round hole. I felt like I was back, pre-1997 U.S. census, when the category “Some other race,” was your destination if American Indian or Alaskan Native, Asian or Pacific Islander, Black, and White did not fit the bill. Unfortunately, “other” was not an option now and the red asterisk by ‘Children’ meant completing this section was required if I hoped to click on the “Save and Continue” button.

The uppity woman in me wanted to check off “Yes, not here yet!” in the “Still Expecting?” box and then click on “quintuplets” in the “Multiples?” drop down box. I figured I’d at least get an interview with Fox news. “Fifty-year-old woman expecting quintuplets!” the headline would read.

It was hard to fathom why “quintuplets” or even “quadruplets” was there for the checking whereas “adoption” was not. I’m willing to bet the odds are there’s nary a family with quints within a hundred mile radius. In comparison, adoptive families are hardly a rarity.

Ironically, just a few hours ago, I’d been sitting in a coffeehouse with ten other women from my neighborhood, talking about getting this group off the ground and ways “we” could be more inclusive given the diversity of our neighborhood. I ventured that my attendance was a small step forward as I was the oldest in the group and the only adoptive-parent-to-be (I did find out later there are two members who are gay couples with adopted children). One of the women said, “Yes, that’s why we’re hoping to get a few sub-groups started, like 40+ moms.” Fantastic. I’ve only been to my first meeting and I’m already being marginalized to the periphery. When I shared this story with Big Papa, he tried to put at a positive spin on my experience: “Just think of it like you’re getting special attention.”

Yes, I know, sometimes the adoptive mom chip-on-my-shoulder could use a bit of softening. Still, I am continually surprised that in the year 2010, living in a large progressive city like Seattle, a parent group didn’t consider there would likely be families with adopted kids in the mix when they put together the online form to join their organization. I’m sure the exclusion isn’t personal and is most likely unintended. Birth moms all, it never crossed their collective minds.

I ended up picking the “Still Expecting?” box and listed my “Due date” as August 15, 2010. Of course, I hope our little bundle of joy is months “premature!” Meanwhile, I emailed the administrator for the group and told her I thought it would be great if she could find a way to tweak the content on that page to include adoptive parenting in the selection of choices available to describe parenthood status.

Sometimes the best route to getting invited on the road trip is to be a little  more vocal, raise your hand a bit higher and say, “Hey, I’d like to ride along with the rest of you.” After all, if I want my kiddo to grow up feeling like he’s a confident trailblazer, what kind of role model am I if I just sit on the sidelines and pout? I’d rather stand up, show my pride in being an adoptive mom and join the game.

“When life gives you lemons, throw ‘em back.” That’s what my spinning instructor has been saying for the better part of the week. I couldn’t agree more. Making lemonade feels far too sweet for the space I’m in.

Our adoption agency told us that in the eight years they’ve been in business losing a referral, in the way ours was lost, only happened once before. What are the odds, I wonder?

Then I remind myself that Big Papa and I are all about “beating the odds.” Heck, the fact we “found” each other in our mid-late 40s is a miracle in itself. And don’t forget, we are the couple whose officiate bailed out three hours before our wedding and yet we managed to find a fantastic replacement merely an hour before we were slated to say ‘I do.’

We’ve experienced setbacks before, and while I’d rank this one in the top five, I know we’ll rally.  Like Big Papa says, “Together, we’re a force to be reckoned with.”

In the meantime, all we can do is take care of ourselves and each other. So we spent an afternoon working on getting the Urban Cabin’s yard and garden back in order. We made a delicious dinner together and enjoyed it with a good bottle of wine. We took a walk in a nearby garden park and smiled at all the trees brimming with pink springtime buds. When life gives you lemons, you have to summon a bit more inner courage, brush yourself off and get back on the bike.

My mind snaps back to my cycling class. I’m riding hard and fast, breathing deeper with each minute that passes. Take it out on the bike, I say to myself. Edge yourself through this tight space and life will open up again.

My legs are strong and I feel grounded. My heart is invincible. The disappointments we’ve experienced on our path to adopt may test our patience and but I know we’ve got plenty of endurance left.

After class, I head for the shower and let my sadness wash down the drain with the sweat. I am one lean, mean, gonna-be-a-mama-no-matter-what fighting machine. I’m putting up my dukes on this one, and my heart is singing out loud and clear.

Hit me with your best shot.
Why don’t you hit me with your best shot.
Hit me with your best shot.
Fire away!

~Pat Benatar