This is one day of harvest.
In the heat of the late afternoon just before a thunderstorm my mom and Finley and I stood outside the electric fence as Christian harvested gold. Potato gold. Watching someone digging up potatoes... potatoes you grew... is, well, downright exciting. We stared at the dirt where Christian combed through each mound with the hoe. "There's one!" "Oh, look at the size of that one!" "There are so many!" We couldn't help ourselves. Two women and a baby (three generations) squealing with delight over the appearance of each potato. Our potatoes. Potatoes that my husband grew. My amazing farmer husband.