Less than happy toad It's harvest time in the garden, and though the yield of vegetables has been pretty skimpy—so far, the produce I've picked and dug would feed us for about three days—we've had a decent crop of potatoes: Yukon Golds, Fingerlings (really small fingers), and Red Norlands. I might even have to get some salmon for a traditional New England summer feast. But this item would not be on the menu! One very fat female toad had decided that the potato patch would be a great place to burrow in to escape the heat, and I was certainly overjoyed that my digging didn't harm her in any way. Well, she didn't look exactly happy to have been awakened and unearthed, but who is on her equivalent of early morning? I gave a huge sigh of relief that she was OK and finished the potato harvest very carefully. She was the only toad in residence. She was also easily the largest "tuber" in the ground, but, alas, inedible. None the worse for the experience, she quickly disappeared.