The ducks and their adoptive mother, Susannah the goose, along with the chickens, have now spent two weeks snootling through the garden beds, with the result that the whole garden has been knocked flat, and you can't tell by looking where the beds are supposed to be. But we know, and we'll be raking everything back into place before spring. This is sheet composting at its best.
The hens have rolled out a number of potatoes we missed, and I've plodded around, once every few days, and scooped them up. These typically have had more solar exposure than we like, and are a bit bitter, but they make fine seed potatoes. We're moving potato production away from the garden to a bed across the creek, and so I really appreciate spud discovery by the flocks.
En route with the spuds to the washing faucet on the south side of the house, I notice the herb bed is still in pretty good shape.
We moved the basil indoors two weeks ago, but the sage, marjoram, oregano, and of course rosemary are hanging in. We've only had about four actual frosts, and here it is December already.
The washed spuds from today's gather pose here with a fava.
Foliage on favas makes a decent winter green, even in salad, but once the seed pods set, it turns bitter. A few of the spuds are not sunburned, so I will probably make a colcannon with them and some leaves from the favas. Add in some winter squash from the ever-present stock pot on the wood stove, with diced dandelions and spring onions (they winter over or start early here) and you have a nice winter soup.