Planting Potatoes

I was at the local grocery store today when I saw a sack of red potatoes. I did not want to eat them, but thought instead I would like to plant them. I brought them home and Joyce asked if I wanted them for supper. I said no; I wanted to plant them. She gave me a funny look and shrugged her shoulders. I took them out back and started digging. The ground out there is so rocky it was hard going. I stopped and thought for a moment, wondering if this going to work out? Then I thought, where is there a rockier place on earth than in Ireland? They grow a lot of potatoes there. So I continued on, digging out and shedding the rocks there before I planted the potatoes. I finished and came back into the house.
Joyce looked at me and said, it is the Irish in you is it not? You plant potatoes every year.
I thought about that for a second and said, it is indeed. My Grandmother lives on through me. My Father never planted a potato in his life, but I guess I do every year. I never thought about it before, but I do plant them every year. If ever you plant potatoes and harvest them once, it becomes a habit. No store potato can compare to one grown and harvested in your own farm or yard.
I think if we had more farmers and less politicians there would be fewer wars and the world would be a better place.
Bill