I’M not saying this is wise, or maybe the weather was better between the wars, but my 1970s Gardener’s Folklore book tells of a timely passage for today.
There seems to be an age-old tradition of planting potatoes on Good Friday - a rare break in the working man’s year and a holy day.
One miner’s daughter says: My late dad planted his potatoes on Good Friday and took them up on Durham Miners’ Gala day in July.”
There are also many superstitions surrounding parsley, with Good Friday the only day you can transplant it without bringing death on the family, according to Pennsylvania Germans. (That’s me cursed then - I moved some in February).