Note to self

When heading to the garden next time...

Take a bigger bucket.

P.S.
I've been blog-silent lately, but it's not for lack of things to tell you about. Sick people (me), sick chickens (Bippity and Wynonna), and plentiful crops (potatoes, tomatoes, and raspberries) needing immediate harvesting and processing have left me drained of time and energy. Fortunately, I think the worst of it now is all behind me and I'll return here soon with a smile on my face and a tale or two to tell.

My garden...

has been wet lately. Muddy, too. Northwest Oregon has been having a period of unseasonably cool and wet weather. It's been a relief, actually, from all the hot and dry we had in July and August.

My first piece of good news is that each of my tomato plants now (finally) has at least one tomato ripening on it:

I thought they'd never ripen. Other parts of the country, like Illinois, have been pulling in wagons full of ripe tomatoes for what seems like months. This Tumbling Tom cherry plant suddenly has scores of little 'maters turning various shades of red. They are tasty:

..but they have an annoying tendency to split before they're fully ripe:

I ordered seeds from WinterSown.org earlier this year which gave me a sampling of many different heirloom tomatoes:

The green one in my basket above is called "Aunt Ruby's German Green". Fun, huh?

The edamame are still growing strong:

and are finally "plumping out". It won't be long now until we can add yummy, salted edamame to our table:

Probably my most prolific producer this season has been the yellow crook neck squash:

Fortunately, these crook necks keep a long time and look very pretty in a basket on my counter. (There are only so many nights one can eat squash with dinner, you know?)

My peppers have been very, very slow to ripen. Shown here is an orange pepper ripening - my first of the season - with about three others still completely green next to it. I'm wondering if they'll make it before the first frost:

I've been quite successful with weeds this year. They're growing very well:

It's funny how you think you're staying on top of things and then you take a few rainy days off from the garden and -POW- you're way behind again.

My potatoes this year have done tremendously well. Planted in two rows each are Yukon Golds and Red Fingerlings. I probably should get out there and harvest them, but so far, I've just been digging up what we eat right away:

Digging potatoes in the mud is therapeutic, I believe. It's hard to think or worry about anything other than the task in front of you. Fascinating, too, is how many more worms I am counting in my soil this year from last year:

All these came from just two plants:

I think my biggest challenge this year is going to be storing them. I have a pantry, but it stays at approximately 70% humidity. Far too moist to be a good root cellar, sadly.

Tell me, is cauliflower not THE slowest growing vegetable in the garden??! Or am I just being impatient? I swear I planted these about four months ago and they're *still* not ready:

Peas. Ah, peas. I should write a poem about this family's love of peas. The lower part of my Alderman pea row is starting to die back and get some powdery mildew on it:

While the upper part is a vibrant green, growing madly and blooming in an attempt to give me more peas before the first frost:

The middle section is my favorite. It's presenting me with peas:

Is this normal for September? Look at this beauty. Not that I'm complaining, mind you:

Perhaps I've mentioned it, but do you know what my Jim's absolute, number one favorite crop in my garden is? That's right:

The beans have done fairly well and I have had fun experimenting with different varieties. The purple beans are almost finished with their season. These are the last of them:

The yellow wax beans are still producing, but took a hit early on from a root maggot problem I battled in April, so it's understandable that I didn't get as many of these as I had hoped:

The green bush beans are the winners this year and continue to produce:

My zinnias make me soooo happy. I have never grown these before:

They make an amazing cut flower, too, and last a long time inside in a vase:

Rounding up the September 8th tour of my garden, here is a volunteer sunflower. It was a gift from one of our local squirrels. I am dying to know what kind it is. It's over nine feet tall and all those blooms are on that ONE stalk! I know you can see another stalk behind the main one, but all those blooms are just on that one plant. Just when I think it's finished, another bloom will develop:

And here is a frog's bottom. Otherwise known as The End:

The vistor goes home

As I mentioned in my previous post, we found a lost chicken the other day. In all honesty, I was fairly certain this little hen was here to stay and, once the quarantine period was over, we would be adding a new member to our existing flock. Well, guess what? Despite our earlier beliefs, it turns out that I'm not the only chicken keeper in the neighborhood.

The vineyard up the hill from us is run by a family who just recently acquired their first chickens. The man left a message on my phone yesterday saying, "We lost a chicken. I heard you found a chicken and I'm wondering if it's the same one." It was.

So Roxy, my farm pup, and I packed the hen back up into the travelling crate and put her in the truck. Back to her home we went:

Here's her real home. Sorry for the blurriness. I'm apparently losing my ability to take a decent photo:

That sweet hen is part of a trio of Black Stars. Once out of the crate, she never even looked back. She was EXTREMELY happy to return to her free-ranging gal pals:

When last seen, the threesome was happily pecking at bugs, grass and fallen apples:

They aren't sure how she escaped or why she ran as far as she did, but I was given a lovely bottle of wine as thanks for caring for her:

And then it was time to go back home:

Bye, little visiting chicken. Thanks for the excitement. And the two eggs.

A visitor

The doorbell rings at 5:15pm. I look through the window and see our neighbor, Tim, from up the road standing on our front porch. I open the door. "Hey Tim", I say. "Hi Danni", he responds, "Did you maybe lose one of your chickens? I've got one in my yard."

Ack! Very few things make my heart race like the thought of one of my critters (child or animal) being loose and in possible jeopardy. I hastily excuse myself from Tim, run past him and down to the coop to do a quick headcount. 1..2..3...4, 5, 6, 7...8..9 and 10. Phew. They're all there. None of my babies have escaped and managed to walk the half mile up the road, fraught with danger and peril, to the neighbor's house.

Returning to Tim with a bit more poise, I ask him a few questions. "What does the chicken look like?" and "How long has she been there?" Also, the important "Who else but me has chickens around here??" Both of us thought I was the only chicken keeper anywhere in the immediate vicinity.

Tim, meanwhile, now clearly has something else on his mind. He's hoping, even though the chicken in his yard doesn't belong to me, that I'm going to come and help him catch his visitor. "I don't know chickens", he says, shrugging a bit. And this is, of course, no problem, because I do. I would love to help.

I grab my trusty dog/chicken/small animal crate, throw it in the back of the truck and tell my nephew, Andrew, who has been spending a few days at the farm, to throw on his boots. "Hurry!", I say, "We're going to go catch a chicken!" Here's the look I got in response:

This look says to me "Aunt Danni has enough chickens, why would she want to catch another one, but it still may be fun. Let's smile at her."

When we reach Tim's house, Tim is already walking through the brush trying to find the chicken, who has hidden herself deep in the ivy and ferns:

She is a speedy girl, though, and resists our grabbing attempts a number of times. Ultimately, we employ a trusty, giant salmon net to catch her. She's a beauty:

She doesn't fuss too much when I pop her into the crate:

It's unclear how long she has been "out and about", but she's hungry and thirsty and she wastes no time when I place the bowls in front of her:

She appears to be a Black Sex Link hen (a.k.a. Black Star) which is a cross between a Rhode Island Red rooster and a Barred Rock hen. I have two of these hens currently, Princess and Cowgirl. They are exceptional egg layers and, in my opinion, are my two smartest chickens.

I notice some feather loss and breakage around her neck area - but no wound. This makes me wonder whether she didn't narrowly escape some kind of danger:

She's got bright eyes, great coloring in her comb and wattles and appears vigorous and healthy:

Despite all her stress, it doesn't take her long to give me a present:

And when I exclaim over it, she looks almost as surprised as I was to see it:

And so, after having had some refreshments, a bit of a rest and a nice egg-laying, she's now repeatedly running for the door every time I open it, telling me -in no uncertain terms- that she's ready to GET OUT and join that noisy bunch in the field below:

But she's going to be stuck in here for a least a bit longer:

It really is for the best. Some chicken experts recommend quarantining a new chicken for up to 30 days before introducing her to your existing flock. This allows you to safely rule out disease, mites, lice, etc. This seems very extreme to me, given these specific circumstances, especially for a chicken that is exhibiting no sign of illness whatsoever. I've checked her for wounds, lice, mites, runny eyes and nose, labored breathing, etc., and so far, she checks out fine!

Poor lass, you won't be peering through these bars forever:

Wordless Wednesday: An unusual carrot harvest