every year there is a time when i have to let go of growing things and let them wane instead, call it a day, a truce, say goodbye to my garden. this year i planted very late hence a barely fruited crop at this inevitable juncture. the smote of frost has killed the leaves thus killing any chance of plumping up the mini zucchinis, spaceships, carrots and potatoes. I have to wave my flag and start salvaging what i can, dig the potatoes and fry up the blossoms that never amounted to a vegetable. what a bust!
the potato hunt, however, is like a treasure hunt - delicious little gems that have magically sprouted from a single potato like grapes.