Potato Harvest

Time to get my potatoes in, at least a month late, but they are so perfect this year. Enormous, golden and flawless, lying in the glorious autumn sunlight. I forget what kind they are. Rocket or Concorde or something. It's years since I bought seed potatoes. These, as usual, are from last year's bits and pieces left over, probably the smallest runts of the litter: tiny little things from the bottom of the sack. I stick them into egg boxes on upstairs window sills in the spring till they get little dark green sprouts on them. My thoughts today, getting them out into the light was that you obviously don't need to save good big potatoes for seed next year. Just use the little wizened ones from the bottom of the sack.

Tonight's alcohol: a Moscow Mule, which is a miniature of vodka I found at the back of the cupboard, some ginger beer I had left from last time some children came, two starry ice cubes and a wedge of lime. Fantastic!