Treasure trove?

This is this year's competition potato, growing in a bag of organic compost in my back yard. Once again, we have no idea what type it is, or when it should be dug up, but that's not the point.

Just like last year, Elspeth-down-the-road and her neighbours Nonnie and Jill have organised us all to plant a single potato, grow it in the bag generously provided, and wait for the day when we must dig up the result and take it to the grand outdoor picnic, where after weighing and counting each plant's offspring, a winner will be declared.

Last year, people met neighbours with whom they had never spoken previously. The neighbouring street has been included this year. Who knows, the competition may grow exponentially, and in time the entire estate may join in, thus founding a great Love Your Potato-Neighbour movement that may sweep the country.

Neighbourliness and shared picnicking aside, competition is ferocious, despite many people having no idea of what they are doing. The enjoyable side of this rivalry is that we have no idea either of what is going on underneath the compost; jungly foliage does not necessarily mean prizes.

Note: The picnic date has not been set, but I am certain that I will still be here for it. My buyer had promised to enter my potato if I had moved by then, but unless and until my poor vendor succeeds in her quest to find a house (and she has been desperately unlucky with the alleged vendors whose houses she has tried to buy) I'm here. I'm still a Potato Contest Contender.

Grow, little taters, grow!