"I married a Colorado Beetle" shock!

What is so fascinating about potatoes?

Suddenly, the house is filled with strange, perforated bags of wizened looking brown things. Blight-of-my-life appears to have become obsessed with growing potatoes. There's even a tray of the things perched on the bedroom window-sill, where I am reliably informed that they are "chitting".

Chitting? I'm not even sure that this is a real word, but apparently it's what you need to do to help your seed potatoes get ready for being planted, so they produce a good crop of brand new potatoes.

How this is supposed to work I have no idea, but at present they're all just sitting there, with little, stumpy, sprouty bits poking out, looking like the world's least attractive flower arrangement.

I'm sure that the end result will be delicious and well worth waiting for, but I have to confess that I find it slightly unsettling sleeping in the same room as the little beggars.

I can't think why.

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