My uncle swears by the maxim, 'in on Good Friday, and out when the fun fair comes to town'.
If you've not guessed, I've been planting the last of my spuds. The earlies went in a fortnight ago but the Kestrel have been sat in their eggboxes, waiting patiently for their turn.
There are two distinct problems with my uncle's principle. I work on Good Friday and we live in different towns. I have no idea about the fun fair, so I'll dig the buggers up when I think they're ready.
As for planting, the week before Good Friday is usually ideal. The ground has usually dried up sufficiently for the digging not to be too hard work and I chose today as we're due some heavy showers tomorrow and Thursday.
There's not a great deal one can do to make potato planting look interesting, so I didn't take any photos. However, I did notice the pear tree was full of blossom, so you can have a shot of that instead.
And if you think this might be an opportune moment for me to make some cheap reference to getting my hands on a nice juicy pear, you obviously know me too well.