Potatoes Under Straw

I did something like that, but not under the sun, but under the hay.
1. It takes winter to dry hay. Most of the time is a horticulture, snoring with scapulas, some of the decent, the grass.
2. The hay will be sewn as a stack into a geese.
3. Gusey's sitting on it in the winter, and it's just a little bit above the top as it's polluted.
4. Spring guise is released from sarium and the propane hay with the general cleaning is solemnly removed. The place is chosen (mostly low) and it is scattered, and it falls into this filthy, scattered seed to normal ground.
5. It takes a paw or a stool, it makes moons in this dream. It's not very good to bury, but it doesn't have to be screamed or shredded, just warm the hole with a hat.
6. There's a potato in the moon and a potato in the moon falls asleep with a sand on a shovel (each moon is a shovel about a stupid ride with a sand car).
That's it. And in the fall, it's like,
What you liked was a potato big, clean, and it's a lot bigger than usual landing. And it's easy to collect, enough laps, not even a shovel in general. It's over and over.

In order to avoid a pointless dispute because of the principled divergence of views on a number of different political issues and, in view of the loss of confidence in the forum, I am inclined. Nothing personal.