The Potato and Boris Becker. (part 8 of a series)

When did you last write the word potato?

I – obviously- just have. But yourself?

It’s not a word that I write very often – the last time it appeared here on this blog was in the summer over a year ago. Then, it appeared in the title of a post that largely details a day where a potato was a subject of a conversation between myself and Ben.

I SAY the word more often than I write it – only four or so days ago (Sunday) I mentioned it on return from local market. My intention was to make some chips to go with some fish I had bought and I announced it to the family.

“Chips huh?”

“Yep!” I tried to sound excited.

No one was interested.

That evening we had soup.

As a written word – sometimes mashed – potato appears seven other times in this blog’s pages.

In 2020 during the pandemic.

In 2015, apparently it was someone's birthday present.

You have to go back another four years to find it again - in a tale featuring a bar, a lover and a guy called Guy.

Then – five more years to hear someone singing about it.

The potato that is, not a bar, lover and Guy.

In 2010 this blog reported on potatoes and toothpaste in a digestive!

I could go on – a bit – but one can find out all this by using the search function up in the top left corner – where the image of a magnifying glass appears.

Or you could go and cook some. 

Potatoes, not magnifying glasses.

Incidentally, it took over a year for the word to first appear on the blog. 

Perhaps because, even though I like eating them, I have always found it a difficult word to spell so I try my best to avoid it.

In 2009 I linked it with salad, a party and the Tour de France.

And Boris Becker.