This week I stopped in at the nursing home to look in on the hens. I’d heard that one of the girls had laid an egg and that all was well, but I wanted to see for myself. I noticed that there were vegetable treats in the run. That was good. When the hens saw me, they walked up to the fence to say hello. That was good, too. Inside, the coop had clean pine shavings bedding, and the waterer and pellet dispense were full.

While I was checking the inside of the coop, Clementine, the friendliest Buff Orpington that I’ve ever known, checked me out. She let me stroke her back. Obviously, these hens were getting plenty of attention and care!

As I was leaving, the window to the memory loss activity room slid open and a woman called me over. It was Linda, one of the wonderful women who care for the residents. She told me that when they were informed that Life Care was getting chickens, she was skeptical. Bad idea, she thought, one more thing to take up our time. But, then she fell in love with the hens. She’s now the primary caregiver. She’s the one who brought out tubs of ice for them during the heat wave. She brings out kale from the kitchen. The chickens make her day better, and that enables her to have the patience that she needs for her difficult job. She watches the folks in rehab work hard to walk over to the coop to visit with the hens. She sees the grandchildren (and great-grandchildren) of the residents happy to be there because there are chickens to look at. Clementine, of course, is her favorite hen.

As much as I love the beauty of delicate spring flowers, there’s something about the robust and deeply-hued blooms of fall that makes my heart happy. It’s a bittersweet view in my backyard, as I know what’s around the corner, but for now it feels like a celebration out there.

The tallest varieties of sunflowers have reached their astounding height and are in full-faced bloom.

Bees add to the vibrancy of the picture.

Years ago, I planted Joe Pye weed in the meadow, not only for it’s color, but because it’s an important late summer food for butterflies and bees. It’s humming out there.

Goldenrod, too, supports native creatures. It self-seeded in the meadow. The goats are pleased, because when the heads die off, I cut it down and feed it to them. They like it more than hay.

In the vegetable garden, some plants, like peas, are long past harvest, but the tomatoes are ripening.

The basil has done really well this year. I’ve already frozen a bagful, and it keeps on forming tender, and not at all bitter, leaves.

After a hard pruning this past winter, and some attempts at pest control, the peaches are looking really good. But, whether I get them before the worms and the chipmunks is yet to be seen.

At this time of year, mildew wilts the leaves in the pumpkin patch,

but it won’t do much damage, as the vegetables are already formed and hardening off.

Anyway, I’ve grown way too much winter squash for my family to eat. Most are slated to be fed to the chickens this winter. They’re going to be happy and busy girls.

I have six chickens, all of which hatched on March 29 at the Murray McMurray facility, and arrived here two days later. I’ve named them after favorite authors and book characters, and so I call them The Literary Ladies. I’ve introduced the other pullets to you in other blogposts; today is Nancy Drew’s turn.

Nancy Drew is a Black Star, which is a hybrid known as a sex-link, because at the time of hatch you can tell the boys from the girls by the color of their down. This means that you won’t get an unwanted roo in your order. Being a hybrid, the Black Star is a prolific layer. I had a Black Star a few years ago. Her name was Ginger and she was outgoing, friendly, curious and an all-around nice hen. Nancy Drew is a worthy successor.

I think that Black Stars are pretty birds, what with their glossy black back feathers and red bibs. They have upright combs and perfectly shaped wattles. Classic chickens!

Based on Ginger’s personality, I thought that Nancy Drew would be an appropriate name for a Black Star, and I was right. Nancy Drew is the first to investigate the rivets on my pants.

Doesn’t this face have the look of a detective?

Nancy Drew will be 20 weeks old this week. She’ll be laying brown eggs soon.