Taters
Behold the mighty Irish Potato.
As I'm beginning preparations for cooking dinner, I found this 'tater in the pantry. Now it's a brutal fall day (winter doesn't begin for another 16 days) with snow and wind and extremely low temperatures, and yet this poor fellow is already thinking of spring! How does it know the time is right for sprouting?
It's all, I'm certain, a part of life's longing for life. But exactly how, I don't know. For now — in this particularly hideous weather — I'll just take it as a sign of hope that we will make it though the winter to enjoy, yet again, the wonders of spring.
Maybe I'll go outside tomorrow in search of daffodils.
As I'm beginning preparations for cooking dinner, I found this 'tater in the pantry. Now it's a brutal fall day (winter doesn't begin for another 16 days) with snow and wind and extremely low temperatures, and yet this poor fellow is already thinking of spring! How does it know the time is right for sprouting?
It's all, I'm certain, a part of life's longing for life. But exactly how, I don't know. For now — in this particularly hideous weather — I'll just take it as a sign of hope that we will make it though the winter to enjoy, yet again, the wonders of spring.
Maybe I'll go outside tomorrow in search of daffodils.
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