The sun had ducked behind the southern ridge line, casting Mount Pendelton's massive shadow across the House of Owls and Bats when Sabina and I met out back to dig up the 'tater sprouts. Within an hour, we had excavated five potatoes. All told, the yield fit within the palm of my hand, not even weighing an ounce. I could've popped them into my mouth all at once as a snack, hardly noticing the starchiness. Sabina was a little cynical about the circumstance.
"I'm getting full just looking at them," she said with a smirk. "Not another bite for me, I'm stuffed!"
I know she was being cute, but part of me did contemplate, quite seriously, stabbing her with my hori'hori. In the neck, and twice. The whole time humming the old Johnny Mercer tune Ac-cent-tchu-ate the Positive. I have a difficult time seeing how that might have been wrong of me.
Logically, this was our first garden. More to the point, our first garden at altitude. Things do not grow as easily up here. It would've been hubris to expect a bumper crop that would would keep us in fresh veggies through the winter. The fact we got something is a victory. Albeit a small one. Literally.
Raised beds will obviously be the way to go for the next gardening season. With the root vegetables, such as potatoes and carrots, perhaps planting a bit earlier outside. The tire stacks we used for our 'tater sprouts did work for insulation and accessibility.
Eventually, of course, we want to do the insulated greenhouse. That's part of our whole scheme to opt out eventually. Here and now, we just look at the next season. I already have an idea of how I want the garden to look and what I want to plant. The theory is sound. Hopefully, we can make it work in practice.