Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Trentham Spudfest

I love a good country festival, all that town pride and community getting togetherness. The Trentham Spudfest did not disappoint. Delicious food, music, art, great market stalls, rock climbing, kooky entertainers, potato digging, potato pancakes, potato everything. I thought it was going to be a small affair but it was huge.
The Trentham community volunteered to become potato heads en masse, oodles of spuds with smiling faces, proud of their potato heritage.

 Bags and bags of freshly dug potatoes.

 Saffron Milk Caps must be a hard item to sell.  When you bump them they turn green and don't look terribly appetising.


The day was bitterly cold, it had a biting sharpness that Trentham does so well, pink cheeks and beanies were de rigueur and we were grateful for the extra clothes we scrounged from the boot.
We came home with lots of Kennebecs, Nicolas for roasting and these Crimson Purples - a new one to try.

Even though its the wrong time of year for planting, potatoes don't like frost, I was inspired, and came home and dug in some very sad sprouting spuds that had been sitting around for months, waiting for some attention.

Hopefully this bed will burst alive in Spring with a frenzy of all manner of spuds. I plan on covering it with some manure and Autumn leaves to help improve the soil over winter.

I have some crazy pictures of these two dogs at play, the one closer to the pole is ours (Zef) and Taco our neighbours dog is visiting after climbing the fence. Stay tuned for some puppy antics.

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In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
Margaret Atwood

“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
"Winter is dead.”
― A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young