We, uh, thought we had finished last year's potatoes at Christmas. There was apparently a box that was missed and got put under a box of tools which we discovered yesterday, very well sprouted.
Was singing this as I planted them - too much will to live to throw 'em out even if I thought I was done planting potatoes.
Eye of the Tater
Rising up straight to the top
Had the guts, got the glory
Survived a drought, now they're not going to stop
Just some spuds and their will to survive
It's the eye of the tater
It's the thrill of the night
Rising up to the challenge of survival
And the unknown survivors
Sprout long legs in the night
And they're crawling on out... with the eye of the tater
The eye of the tater