More preparations for winter

 I wasn’t thinking all the way through when I planted the raised beds last summer. I put the Brussels sprouts in a bed next to the chicken run. Here’s the problem: the Brussels sprouts don’t get harvested until after the first frost. They say a mild frost makes them sweeter. Therefore, when we moved the chickens up to winter quarters as daylength fell below 13 hours, I had to exclude the Brussels sprouts bed (as well as two adjoining beds) from the run when I put up the fence. Poor hens! Nowhere to dust bathe.  

Three adjoining raised beds

In the Before Time, the killing frost would certainly come before mid-October. Hilda said for the first several years they lived here, it frosted on Sept. 15 like clockwork. Now that the climate is warmer, the first frost date has been creeping further and further into the autumn months. This year, it didn’t happen until the first week of November, when the temperature dipped below freezing briefly for a couple of nights. The Brussels sprouts did not do well this year. I have no idea why. I salvaged what sprouts I could before the first all-night freeze. I’ve ruined beautiful stalks of sprouts in the past by waiting too long. There are limits to their frost tolerance.

When it warmed up again, I turned the raised beds with a broad fork. A broad fork, as the name suggests, is 20 inches wide. There are handles on each side of four large tines. One stands on the crossbar to push the tines into the soil, then pulls back on the handles to break up the soil. Eliot Coleman recommends the broad fork to preserve the soil structure. I can’t claim to understand exactly what he means by that, but I have observed that earthworms generally survive the process. The same cannot be said of rototilling. Terry is a fan of rototilling and thinks that broad forking is untidy. He does concede the earthworm point, however. Besides, breaking up the clods gives the girls something to do.

The broad fork leaves clods

When I finished with the broad fork, I moved the fence to the outside of the raised beds. I took the risk of doing this while the hens were out, betting that they were wary enough of my presence to not take advantage of the sagging fence. All went well, and the fence was repositioned without any escapees.

The first thing the hens did was scratch around in the oak leaves around the raised beds. I watched for awhile, and only one of the Dominque pullets had the courage to hop up on the edge of a raised bed. She hopped right back down. There’s a reason that we use the term “chicken” to describe cowardly.

I got tired of waiting and carried on with other end-of-season outdoor tasks. When I saw Terry, he said, “You’ve got to see the hens!”

I got my camera and stealthily approached the run. If they see you coming, they run to the fence, hoping you are bringing treats. I needn’t have worried. They were completely focused on dust bathing. Mind you, there are three beds, one bed for every 3 to 4 chickens, but they were all right on top of each other in the middle bed.

Everyone has to be in one bed

OMG! This is the BEST. THING. EVER!

Eliot Coleman (in Four Season Harvest) also says that if you plant carrots in the high tunnel the first week in August, they will get just big enough before the soil freezes that you can have baby carrots all winter long. Due to the late frost, the high tunnel carrots are enormous. 

The carrot bed  in the high tunnel

Fortunately, these huge carrots are not as woody as ones of similar size from the grocery store. I’m not sure if it’s due to variety or freshness.

Giant carrot

The beets, planted at the same time, are also quite robust

Alas, the tomatoes took it in the shorts when the real cold came. We say goodbye to fresh tomatoes until next year. Pulling out the last of the tomato plants is a melancholy task. Sniff.

Sad, dead tomato plants

I was working at the Green Living Expo all day Saturday. When I got home, Terry said there was a surprise for me in the kitchen. There on the counter was the first Dominique pullet egg! They certain took their sweet time to grow up. Since then, however, we’ve had one brown pullet egg every day.

First Dominique pullet egg between two hen eggs. So cute!

Now that the time has changed, I can close the coop before dinner. This week, I’ve been rewarded with some fabulous sunsets. And so, day by day, we prepare to hunker down.

Autumn sunset