It started with the potato. I was clearing out of NYC, and I could not bring myself to throw away this potato. It can't be eaten, but I thought my sister might like to plant it in her garden. I texted her and she said sure. Whether she will or not who knows, but whatever. Hard for me to throw away. And then there was the trampoline and the giant table and the rest of it. I went to see Ed and told him I had lost my mind.
He said just put the potato on the trampoline.
And me. And the coffee and the applesauce. Why do I travel like this?
So we got on the ferry.
3 comments:
That is the most Irish post ever.
The potato looks like a guinea pig. Or maybe a hamster.
No, you're not crazy... It's just that to anyone with a drop of Irish blood in their veins, a potato is like their mother. Or something like that.
Sadly, according to Ancestry, there's not a drop of Irish in my veins!
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