In the last twenty years I have had in my life:

1 hedgehog
3 guinea pigs
3 rabbits
1 newt
a lizard
several crawfish
a tank of tropical fish
The Beast and her goldfish minions
3 dogs
2 leased horses
2 goats
45 chickens

but only 1 husband.

Happy Anniversary, Steve!
What’s going to be on this list for the next twenty years?

photo by Spencer Webb

I want the hens to lay their eggs in the nesting boxes, where they are left in clean pine shavings and are safe from being stepped on and dirtied until I collect them. I don’t want to hunt eggs down under bushes or in corners of the pen.

It’s not hard to get hens to lay in nesting boxes. They naturally want to leave their eggs in a semi-dark and cozy, softly bedded, safe place. I believe that airy coops with windows are best for hens, and so in my bright henhouses I carefully site the nesting boxes so that they are not bathed in sunbeams. My hens seem to like boxes from which they can watch the hubbub of the other girls, but be out of the fray themselves.

I want the hens to use the nesting boxes solely for laying. Laying and broody hens never defecate in their boxes, but leisurely hens who use boxes as beds instead of sleeping on roosts, do. So, when the chickens are not fully mature I do not give them access to the nesting boxes. Either the boxes are not installed or they’re blocked off. This way the pullets have no choice, and learn to roost on bars. When they reach laying age, the nesting boxes are hung about a foot off of the ground. Because the boxes are so low, and because hens like to roost hight, they don’t think about using them at night.

The Gems all lay their eggs in the nesting boxes. Here is Florence, glancing back at her egg before she goes outside to join the flock.

There are, however, always exceptions to the rule. Years ago, my bantam White Leghorn, Snowball, would leave eggs seemingly mid-step while she was off exploring. She was the inspiration for Tillie Lays An Egg. Lately, someone has been laying eggs at the very top of the roost. She’s obviously carefully placing them there, as has not been a single broken egg on the ground under the bars.

I find it first thing in the morning, so I think that she lays her egg before getting down for breakfast. Who is laying this egg? I have no idea! Do you? Has anyone caught this hen in the act?

Have you found any eggs in weird places lately?

Tonight at sundown the Jewish New Year begins.

Challah, the traditional long braided loaf at every Shabbat meal, is, for this one holiday, formed into a round to symbolize the circle of life. This is my challah.

It’s lumpy and imperfect. But it’s also beautiful.

L’ shanah tovah! to all my friends celebrating Rosh Hashanah

I grew some of the best-tasting tomatoes ever this year. They were big and delicious and abundant. And then I had a busy week at the end of August and ignored the patch. When I finally got back into the garden this is what I saw:

It’s the first year that I have ever had tomatoes destroyed by tomato blight. It’s a fungal disease that kills the plants and causes lesions on the tomatoes, making them useless. Plants are more susceptible if crowded and if the leaves stay wet. Because it had been so hot, I’d been watering regularly with a sprinkler. But, I’d placed the plants too close together – I had no idea how large and sturdy these varieties were. The combination of crowding and overhead watering did them in. If I had noticed it coming, I would have picked all of the tomatoes at the onset and been able to save most of them. The fungus doesn’t make people sick, and you can cut away and use the good parts. But, all that I was able to harvest were these:

You can see the damaged flesh on that red tomato. Since the green tomatoes had the fungus on them, I wasn’t going to leave them out to ripen, and they weren’t good enough to use as is. But, I knew who would appreciate them.

Pip. He LOVES green tomatoes.

Caper does not.

Which makes his brother even happier.

They snarf. They snort. They burp. Pip and Caper munch and crunch green beans.