These are big days for me, trying to pick all of my chiles before hard frost (they've been covered for two nights, can uncover today and resume picking), and it's slow going. The best way to do this is to snap off limbs as I go. I'm leaving those plants that didn't yet fruit, considering whether I want to give up the space for them (and battle whiteflies on them) in the greenhouse. I may yet dig and pot them. Specifically, chocolate habs, fatalii, Willings' Barbadoes and some ajis didn't yet fruit. The large black pequin hasn't even flowered yet. Today is the big day, though, when we'll have to cut back on the foliage of the sweet potatoes, pull out the black plastic they've been growing under (leaving voles exposed to the maw of my dog and the sharp eyes of neighborhood hawks), and see whether I've got sweet taters to dig. Sparty (the dorg) has been quite excited since we've started dismantling the garden. Now he thinks it's okay to poop in what had been the corn patch, and to wade through sweet potato foliage in quest of mice and voles. During the garden's growth and maintenance, he considerately leaves his piles on the lawn or in waste ground. Once the garden comes apart, he feels it's okay to even dig in quest of voles. He's very smart in some ways, but not in all. He would not bump the dog door open, so we had to lock it. Even food rewards would not entice him to push it open. But he watches the windows of the house, and if he sees us looking out, he thinks he's being summoned, and bounds toward the house. Never had a dog look through windows before. Margaret