Wednesday - 03/31/2021 — When I buried Wooly Bear in the back yard last year, piled extra soil on top, and covered her grave with large stones to keep out any predators that might try to dig, I apparently didn’t sift through the soil I used to mound over the grave.
There must have been one lonely little potato in there, left over from the previous years when I’d grown back-deck potatoes in plastic trash cans. Anyway, as you can see, it sprouted between the stones, and I’m letting it grow.
It seems appropriate since I’ve bought a burial plot in the green cemetery in Conyers so my dead body will be reabsorbed by the earth and used to fertilize whatever wildflowers or trees spring up over my grave. Maybe I should ask to have a couple of potatoes buried alongside me. Of course, I’m not sure who’d want to harvest them.
Okay. Forget that idea. I’ll stick to wildflowers and trees.
