One (pound of) Potatoes, Two (pounds of) Potatoes

Ahh the fabulous spud. How could Americans or Canadians not celebrate our respective Thanksgivings without the marvelous potato? And let’s face it, for the amount of work put in, mashed potatoes are quite heavenly.

Every year at Thanksgiving, my youngest daughter (who it should be noted is 4’10” and nearly 18) and my father have a contest to see who can eat the most mashed potatoes and gravy. Krista, it should be admitted (although I doubt by my father), has won the last 3 years with 3 plate sized helpings.

And so as that good holiday rolled around, I stared at my meager supply of 10 lbs of potatoes and contemplated buying a safety margin of another 5 lbs. We were expecting 10 people so I had to make sure there was enough for the rest of us.

Alas, on Turkey day, Krista decided to spend the holiday with her boyfriend’s family, and two of our guests did not materialize. As if moving out of town is any reason not to come. Meanwhile, still worrying about the impending potato famine of 2012, I boiled up 7 lbs of russets and 7 lbs of yams.

Which worked out to be approximately 2 lbs a person. Safe, right? Except, the old gray cells didn’t take into account the fact that we had gorged ourselves on yams and mashed potatoes the previous evening on a preThanksgiving dinner before my brother and his wife headed back to Alaska.

There were lots of potatoes and yams left.

Lots of them.

I had to hid them.

Then I had to decide what the heck to do with them. Because after the 3rd Thanksgiving dinner (why is the stuffing always the first to go?), I really wasn’t sure I could look at them an keep down my stomach contents.

So I decided to disguise them. The first day, I  made potato pancakes. Oh, yeah. That was yummy.

The second day, I made 2 loaves of potato bread. Hmmm. My daughter thought it was lemon bread and didn’t speak to me for a couple of hours figuring I’d tricked her somehow. Um, she didn’t ask what they were.

And then I ran out of steam because I am right in the middle of edits for a book due out in January. Okay, Redaction fans, take a deep breath. The book due in January is a Valentine’s Day romance novel. Redaction: Dark Hope is still on schedule for the 20th.

So after our 4th Thanksgiving dinner on Wednesday, I decided to trash the rest of the leftovers.

Next year…. I won’t make so many dang potatoes.

About Linda Andrews

Linda Andrews lives with her husband and three children in Phoenix, Arizona. When she announced to her family that her paranormal romance was to be published, her sister pronounce: "What else would she write? She’s never been normal." All kidding aside, writing has become a surprising passion. So just how did a scientist start to write paranormal romances? What other option is there when you’re married to romantic man and live in a haunted house? If you’ve enjoyed her stories or want to share your own paranormal experience feel free to email the author at She’d love to hear from you.
This entry was posted in Life Observations and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to One (pound of) Potatoes, Two (pounds of) Potatoes

  1. danrshaw says:

    You could have made potato soup? NOT From what you’ve said everyone would be tired of potatoes for quite awhile. I’d add it to my compost pile. Can’t give it to the chickens, potatoes aren’t very good for them and I’ve never seen them eat any out of the compost pile. You could make them into balls the size of a hardball and then freeze them. Then you could pretend they are snowballs.

  2. Potato ball fights? That’s about as close to snow we’re going to get this year. I might just try it! Can’t compost out here. It’s far to dry.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s