In the past I’ve been able to grow pumpkins and other hard winter squashes using a practice of benign neglect. The pumpkin patch is dug over in the spring, compost added, plants set into the ground and then the whole thing is ignored until harvest. One can get rather smug about one’s systems until things go horribly wrong, as they finally have done this summer.

Over the summer, the plants flourished. There was a jungle of huge pumpkin leaves. Weeds sprang up, too. Bees hummed. Sure, there were a few squash borers, but the plants still thrived. Squash were spied in the lush undergrowth. In the last few weeks, the plants wilted, from, what I thought, was typical fall mildew.

But a closer look revealed a serious pest hidden right in plain sight. Isn’t evolution amazing? The mature squash bug is exactly the same color as dead squash leaves. Train your eyes to look and you might see one.

Look again and you’ll see a ravenous, rampaging army. I cut off some infested leaves and tossed them to the Gems. They are even too nasty for the chickens to eat.

This late in the season, the squash bugs continue to lay eggs and multiply.

My system of letting the hens turnover the pumpkin patch in fall and spring to control insects helps to keep the borers in check, but it turns out that squash bugs overwinter as adults. I couldn’t just pull out the diseased plants and compost them, as that’s exactly the environment that the insects thrive in. The only thing to do was to bag up all of the plant matter (and as many insects as I could grab with it). The extension service info says that gathering and throwing out all of the plants will help to control the borers, too. Any bugs left on the ground will lack shelter and hopefully will die in the cold.

Underneath the weeds and the plants was a sparse harvest.

I’ve learned that mulch, even plastic, creates a safe haven for these insects. That bit of advice (read today, sadly too late) was proven true, as the strip of black plastic mulch I’d put in the pumpkin patch (because I had some leftover and thought I’d try it) was swarming with squash bugs, and the few vegetables there were ruined by the suckers.

At least the chickens were willing to help clean that up.

I’ve more work to do before I’ve got the squash bug infestation under control. I’ve learned my lesson that you can only ignore a garden for so long until the neglect catches up with you. But, with gardening, a failure in one corner doesn’t mean a failure everywhere. Last night friends came for Rosh Hashanah dinner. Side-dishes included honeyed carrots, tomato, cucumber and basil salad, chard with a dressing of lemon juice and toasted mustard and coriander seeds, and rice with minced herbs. All from the garden.

Now that backyard chickens are so trendy, lots of companies are selling coops on-line and at feed stores, garden centers and even box stores. Most of these coops are too small for the number of chickens that they claim that they house. They are dark, poorly ventilated, and inappropriate for most climates.

With coops, size matters, and the more space the better. My preference is for walk-in coops. But, if you’re in an urban environment, on a tight lot, and need to maximize the footprint, then a raised coop that utilizes the space below can be used, if it is designed and built right. This one is done right.

Kara O’Brien, the builder is a home remodeler, and made use of discarded materials, from stair treads to windows and a door. Here is a photo of the coop from the other side, when it was halfway built. There’s light, ventilation and air space.

The run is not large enough as is, but Kara has expanded it. A coop like this is charming and a good home for hens.

For more ideas, go to my Small Coop Ideas Pinterest board. For specific dimensions and details that I recommend for small coops, read this post.

Even as a child, I preferred fresh, ripe fruit over candy. So, although I indulge in treats for my goats, I’m not wont to give them junk food. It’s not good for them, and since I don’t crave it, I don’t feel that I am keeping them from some unique and amazing delectable treat. Lately, however, I’ve been told by an experienced goat keeper (whom I greatly respect), that goats love licorice. Black licorice. And that I was being stingy and mean-spirited for not providing a bag of this candy for the boys. Then, in one of my favorite goat blogs, I read that this farmer also gives her goats black licorice. I gave in and bought a bag.

The goat boys always anticipate that something good is coming their way when they’re asked to get onto their stumps.

However, they can be quite suspicious of new foods, and they are fussy. For example, Pip likes tomatoes, but Caper doesn’t, whereas Caper likes a certain prickly weed that Pip won’t touch. But, they both agreed that black licorice is yummy. They wagged their tails and smacked their lips.

But, was this munching and crunching any different than when handed green beans?

Nope! They like the green beans just as much, and, in fact, did some joyful burping while snacking on them.

Methinks those other goatmaids are buying licorice for their goats just so that they can have some for themselves. Honestly, I had a piece or two of the licorice, which I confess that I like it much more than overgrown green beans. We goatmaids do need a few treats for ourselves. I think that I’ll share the bag with the boys.

The Literary Ladies are now 22 weeks old. Twiggy has been laying almost daily for a month, and true to her White Leghorn breeding has taken only three days off in that time. Her eggs are bright white, long and smooth as polished shells washed up on the beach. The other hens have been slower to mature, but I’ve been expecting to see eggs from the Ameracaunas, Owly

and Beatrix,

because they’ve been squatting when they see me – sure signs that they are now fully grown.

Two days ago Beatrix left this egg in the nesting box. It is a dull green with a hint of blue.

Ameracaunas are not true blue egg layers like Araucanas. Also known as “Easter Eggers”, the Ameracauna is a mix of breeds, sure to lay colorful eggs, but you never know where on the spectrum from olive-brown to robin’s egg blue they’ll be until they start laying. (I’ve explained how eggs get the colors they do here.)

I haven’t seen Owly in the nesting boxes, but I’m sure that she too, is laying, not because I’ve collected two colorful eggs from one box, but because I’ve found one that is bluer and not as pointy; they are obviously from different hens. Here are the eggs, side-by-side. Both are beautiful in their own subtle way.

Neither of my Ameracaunas are interested in their eggs after they’ve been laid. They hop right down and go back outside. But, Betsy Ross, being a bantam, has gone broody and has huffed up and is trying as best that she can to cover the bigs eggs (including Twiggy’s) with her tiny body. You can tell that  her claim on the nesting boxes and her bad mood has annoyed the ladies because her comb has been pecked at. She doesn’t care a whit. She’ll sit there until the broody spell passes, which could be weeks.

Meanwhile, Phoebe, who has created a cozy home for herself under the nesting boxes, is unimpressed with the hens and their newfound productivity.

In the garden at the end of August, it’s a race against time. There’s a small window of opportunity to get the crops in when they are ripe. A few days too late and the bugs and rot get them. This week my peaches, basil and tomatoes have all peaked. (As have the cucumbers and chard, but I’m ignoring them!) I have a friend who is an avid canner, and I know she’s working hard in her kitchen, putting up spiced pears, tomato sauce and pickles. Me? It’s just too hot and the last thing that I want to do is to stand over a hot stove. Thank goodness for my crock pot and freezer. I make “It’s Too Hot’ Tomato Sauce.

Before going out to harvest tomatoes, I turn the crockpot on high, add enough olive oil to coat the bottom, and toss in chopped onion (I didn’t grow onions this year, but did purchase some at a farmer’s market.) My neighbor always shares his garlic crop with me, and I peel and mince (I use a garlic press) about 6 big cloves and add them to the pot. I let this sauté to develop flavor while I go out to the garden to get a trug-full of tomatoes.

I also pick oregano and basil. All get a good washing. The tomatoes have cracks and big stem ends. That’s okay. The trimmings go to the chickens.

I chop the tomatoes and put them into the crockpot. (I leave the skins on.) The herbs are tied with string (for easier removal later) and tucked into the pot. I stir in some good sea salt. Cover. And wait.

Six hours later the tomato sauce is ready for the freezer. I’ll eat it this winter, when I want to add some warmth to my days!