Rufus and I made our final few passes on the potato patch and are allayed to wrap this project up before the ground gets any colder. As we crawled down the bed, picking up Austrian Fingerlings, Yukon Golds, and Dark Red Norlanders, the crate became increasingly cumbersome to drag alongside us, and we seriously considered whether we want to grow potatoes again next year. Before the fall crops are out of the ground, we’re thinking of the rotations of replacement. I feel like I need some sort of decision matrix, in which each vegetable gets a score based on a bundle of data wrapped up in the business of garden planning; seed cost, labor intensity, space, soil, tools, and likability by both the farmer and the eaters. The math of it all makes me head spin, but anything worth pursuing should make your brain whirl through a few revolutions. I’m leaning increasingly toward permaculture.


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