Farms Are Fun! (depending on who you are)

This time of year, the one thing on lots of people's minds is potatoes. Not just because they are delicious (especially when baked and paired with sour cream) but because they're money. Potatoes are a big industry here in Northern Maine. It seems like everywhere I look there are potato fields, potato harvesters, and potato houses. In fact, I live right next door to a potato house!

In Autumn, the potato harvest happens. This means that lots of farmers go out into the fields and dig 'em up. Apparently this requires a lot of loud machinery. Also, it requires a lot of help. For example, here in Littletown and Biggertown, it is possible for teenagers in the local high school to skip out on classes in order to pick potatoes. Sometimes the kids are absent from school for up to a month. But it's cool, because they're getting paid. 

You may be wondering, "what does one do when working the Great Potato Harvest?". Well, I can speak from experience. First of all, you get up early. At 5 am. Don't forget to dress warm, because it will be freezing out. Layers are your friend. Then you drive to the potato house, where all the exciting work will happen. Once you are located within said potato house, the fun will commence! A very large potato truck (think dump truck, but filled to the brim with taters) will back into your area, and a conveyor belt will then transport the potatoes to your general direction. 

Here is the best part. You will stand next to the conveyor belt (all day) and watch potatoes (all day). Your job is to "pick rocks". That is a non-fancy way of saying that you leave the potatoes alone, and pick the rocks off of the conveyor. You will do this all day. After a few hours, the tips of your fingers will start to hurt. Then they will go numb. Either from the cold, or the fact that you have been hitting them on rocks (all day). When 8pm comes around, you'll be done. And that's it, ladies and gents. 

I only did the Great Potato Harvest for a day. People, I am not made for manual labor. I made $100, and couldn't eat potatoes for months. But heck, if you love taters and don't mind finger-numbing work, come up to Northern Maine. You can have all the potatoes you want (mashed or fried).