The hubster dug 14 holes, a few at a time, and put the sandy soil on my growing hugelkultur bed. In the spirit of hugelkultur, I dropped a big chunk of split firewood into each of the holes, then filled it with compost.
As the wood breaks down over the next few years, it will feed the roots of the berry bushes. It will also retain a lot of moisture in our sandy soil, helping to protect the bushes from drought. Although it won't be quite as drought-proof as a raised hugelkultur bed, the rotting wood will help keep the berries producing more flavorful fruits.
Every job needs a supervisor to make sure the grunts keep working. "I lift things up and put them down," says the hubster, when doing such chores as digging holes. On a farmlet, what with planting and fence posts, there are always holes to be dug. Hence the need for lots of employee supervision. Gunnar does a fine job, not being distracted by tennis balls and frisbees as Biscuit tends to be. All bets are off, however, if a rodent of any type sets foot in the yard.
The hens feel the siren song of compost, and will scratch it vigorously, uprooting tender plants and digging holes where I've made mounds. Each mound of compost over each compost-and-firewood filled hole got a square of chicken wire and a brick or stone to hold it in place. I'll plant white clover on top to keep weeds at bay and also to discourage the hens.
Gotta go check the mail again to see if a box has come from Burgess!