Potato therapy

A while ago, my friend Rob gave me two eggboxes full of chitted potatoes to plant, and some envelopes of vegetable seeds, too. A marvellous gift. The potatoes have been sitting under the windowsill in the pantry for a long while. And this evening I planted them in the garden. Finally. What a relief to put them in the ground and cover them over. I've been fractious and inactive and just generally morose all day, but no longer. My fingernails are black with loam and my fingers fizzy with nettle stings. My back hurts, because I've not dug over ground for a long while, and have rather forgotten how to do it, but ah, the satisfaction. Even with the fizzy fingers and the backache, I'm suddenly so very contented. Potatoes are the best kind of present.