This morning, I ate the first plum from our tree. It had fallen some time yesterday, and the chickens had given it a few experimental pecks. I cut around the damage and savored every bit. Robb slept through my plum orgy. I didn't think he'd be all that interested in being woken with an offer of hen-bitten fruit.
The cats also had a bit of a harvest, which they kindly shared with me.
There's nothing like stepping on a dead mouse, first thing in the morning. Nothing at all. Thankfully.