Good Morning Ted and Jody:
Yesterday, I emptied one of my pots—the first one I planted way back in April. Here are three shots of it and its contents.
OK, I am not showing the coffee grounds that made up a couple of layers in the pot. It was filled to almost the top indentation. You can see the dirt line.
What I did was start with about 1/6th of the pot filled with dirt when I planted the potato. I planted one potato cut into four pieces with at least one eye in each piece. Then as the plants grew, I added more dirt or coffee grounds (you know, the stuff McDonald’s is giving away to save the landfills) until the pot was full. The idea here is that as long as the stem is covered in soil (or, as it turns out coffee grounds), it will produce tubers instead of leaves. Indeed, that seems to be the case, for there were some fairly large tubers up near the surface. Indeed, in other pots, I have had to cover the potatoes showing on the surface with leaves to keep them from turning green. Potatoes tubers exposed to light while they are growing or while the plant is still active turn green—I am guessing the exposure to sunlight triggers the chlorophyll to get to work and convert that energy.
I had decided to “harvest” the potatoes in this pots partially because it was the earliest planted and partially because, I needed two potatoes the evening before last when I made a batch of German potato salad and could see, scraping the top layer of McDonalds coffee grounds away, that there were bigger prizes in there than the ones I took. And, I harvested this pot partially because I suffer from a rare psychiatric disorder known in the profession as Silas Marner potato harvesting syndrome. All will be well now until I use the last potato from this harvest, then I have to harvest again or I will go over the edge. I only hope I can be kept from prematurely harvesting another pot. I am told a black walnut harvest can cure the syndrome. I only have 80 years to wait until the black walnut tree I planted 5 years ago provides me with a cure.
Warmest regards, Ed