The unprecedented mild, sunny weather we've been receiving of late, breaking all previous weather records for this time of year, has motivated us to act decisively before more seasonal temperatures set in, leaving us to do the final garden clean-up with freezing hands.

No time like the present, to empty the composter that had been cooking away for a year. Since we have two composters into which kitchen and garden waste is dumped regularly (resulting in very little kitchen waste since everything, save for meat and fish and dairy waste ends up in the compost pail), while one is on active duty for receiving waste, the other sits undisturbed by us while it slowly, with the capable assistance of minuscule bacteria and worms, eats away at the offerings to eventually produce the pure black gold of finished compost.

And that's what my husband did yesterday morning; emptied the composter of its finished product, to spread lavishly on various of our garden beds, a yearly fall event. The composter currently in use is ready to be retired for the coming year, since it is almost full. And now the alternate composter stands ready to take over from the almost-full one.

In emptying the composter, and filling up the last wheel-barrel-full of compost, my husband saw something unusual in among the rich compost; the sun's rays shone back from something small, a metal head fixed onto a short white-plastic handle. My long-lost-and-lamented strawberry huller. A replacement for which, after being unable to find where it had ended up, was not to be found.

Which made for a much-appreciated gift. I'm grateful to be able to return it to use. Guess I have to be a trifle more conscious of what I'm doing when I'm slopping peelings and hulls into the kitchen compost.