Pull a little card,
A real crocheted potato, brought to life on your desktop — he holds up little cards of encouragement. Something warm, something dry, something you needed to hear.
set it down
gently.
Free · macOS 12+ · poke him, drag him, tell him things
Three little moments
Pull a card
Tap the card in his hands and a fresh line flips up. Pull as many as you like — the good ones don't run out.
Keep the keepers
Tap Keep it ♥ and the line lands in your Card Book — a little shoebox of good words, saved for the days that need them.
Go for gold
Every so often he goes quiet, takes his time, and knits you a golden card by hand. Rare on purpose, kept forever.
Sometimes a card is just for you
Most golden cards are a famous line your buddy has been saving up for you, signed by whoever said it first. But once they know you well enough, now and then they weave one from scratch — out of the things you've actually told them — and sign it themselves.
Keep a few, and Prof, the Tenured Tuber will come knocking.
She listens — and she remembers
Hover over whoever's on duty and a little chat box slides out — today that's Bloom, the Quiet Gardener. Tell her the day was a lot and she'll meet it with soil and rain, a warm line or two, and one easy handle to pick back up. What matters finds its way into your golden cards; everything she remembers lands in one little quilt, and every patch has an ×.
She's not a therapist — if you're really struggling, she'll gently point you toward a human you trust.
Small, alive, and entirely his own thing
He doesn't take up a window. He doesn't ping you. He just sits in the corner of your day, glancing over when you move your mouse, holding out something kind.
Poke him
Tap for a reaction — squish, hop, wobble, a sudden sneeze — and every so often a whole little skit. Never the same one twice in a row.
He lives his own life
Bored, he entertains himself. Sleepy, he dozes off. Missing you, he taps the glass to say hi. Sit too long and he'll suggest a stretch; stay up too late and he'll nudge you toward bed.
He watches your cursor
Eyes lead, the head follows — across the whole screen. He blinks, glances around, looks right at you… then drifts back to daydreaming when you wander off.
Drag him anywhere
Fling him sideways and he spins with real momentum, then springs upright. Nudge him to a screen edge and he curls up for a nap.
Six friends, each a different kind of care
Spud starts with you. The other five are earned, never bought — keep · favorite · confide · show up · go gold. Once a friend, always a friend.
Spud
Taco
Sprinkles
Bloom
Mochi
Prof
Spuddy
“Rest is productive. Signed, a potato.”
Made with yarn, three.js, and a lot of encouragement.
Open source on GitHub