"I feel like a farmer"

There we were shin deep in snow. Boots on, trudging across the neighbor's yard to a tree that is fast becoming a favorite due to its high sap yield, when one of my lovelies uttered, "I feel like a farmer." It wasn't a complaint. She was smiling.

How wonderful that she has this opportunity, if just for a few weeks, in high tech suburbia. Where generally the dawn is greeted by emails, and electronically kept calendars. For six weeks, maybe more, if the snow white blanket keeps the roots cold, our usual routine will be broken.

With the start of the season, having to make new bucket hooks out of coat hangers, and pulling apart the stacks of buckets, and matching them with lids, I was wondering if all this work was worth it. Still not quite convinced, I set 14 taps. So now, everyday, rain, wind, snow, I am committed, twice a day, to follow the worn trial in the snow, slush, then mud from bucket to bucket, across our yard and the yard of three of our neighbors, collecting sap. In my pocket I carry wire to adjust how the buckets hang on the hooks. A badly hung bucket will spill its sap upon the ground. This time of year, nothing is sadder than losing a bucket of sap, for it takes us about 55 gallons of sap to create 1 gallon of golden goodness. At each tree I have to take my mittens off to release the lids. Yesterday, I smiled when I once again realized that the excitement of the gathering keeps the cold away.

The first few treks, I don't even mention to the girls that it's time. Quietly, on my own, I seek a peace with each tree, check the taps for leaks, and give thanks for the generous outpouring. But then, when there is time before school, or right after the bus returns them home, I put on my boots and head out. The girls are right behind me. They are just as excited to see how full the buckets are. Their first question after alighting from the bus at the end of their workday is, "How much sap did you get today?" My answer, "Come see." And we make the harvest together.

As of yesterday we have 18 gallons of sap. Another 20 or so, and we'll have enough for a boil. Then we'll all be up at 4 AM lighting the burners and eating oatmeal with hot chocolate.

Truly being a maple sugarmaker is not a burden, it is a gift.