The syrup crew got together this weekend to do the final clean up and make some firewood. Since one of the three--and the youngest--is convalescing from open heart surgery, this weekend was a two man effort.

At the end of the syrup season, we flood the evaporator pans with sap and allow it to sour. It apparently turns slightly acidic which dissolves the scale that accumulates on the pans during the season. It is so much better than trying to scrub the pans with stainless steel compatible pads or to invest in extra strength vinegar, or a chemical wash. Once the pans were empty and off the evaporator, we took a power washer to them and did the final touch-up with pads and hand work. The smaller pan (the syrup pan) was removed a few weeks ago because of a small leak. During the season, we found we had a crack near one of the fittings. It was near the outlet of that pan, which is the place that the syrup is drawn off. As a result there was enough sugar content to caramelize and burn when it came into contact with the frame supporting the pan. The leak essentially sealed itself. The leak redeveloped when the sap soured and dissolved the "patch.". The sugar house is not visited on a daily basis during the off season, so it was several days, maybe a week or more, before the leak was discovered. Yes, there was mess to clean up. As part of the clean up task yesterday, the floor got a good scrubbing. We have made arrangements to have the leak repaired by a welder, so we are not expecting a repeat of this aspect of the 2010 season in 2011. The unit is eight years old, so one had to expect some routing maintenance and repair. At least that is what we tell ourselves.

Today I cut down one of the larger trees (16" diameter) in the sugar bush that had died. There wasn't a single leaf on the tree. Last year, it was only partially leafed out. We marked so we didn't tap it this year. I think this the fourth tree we've lost in the eight years we have been syruping. The wind took the top out of a smaller tree (6 or 8" diameter). Another smaller tree just seemed to up and die. Before we tapped the first year, a tapping size tree was removed, when it didn't leaf out. Other than the wind, I have no explanation for these deaths. That particular tree may have been compromised, since the heart wood at the site of the break was stained blue-green--a fungus?.

I am always anxious, when felling trees of any size. Today's task went very well. No hanging widow makers fell. I was able to drop the tree right where I planned. The new chainsaw, that had been a Christmas present worked like a new saw. I make my cuts, set the wedges, tapped on the wedges a few times, and got out of the way. I suppose I could have used a pushpole like my Dad used to do. I had a pushpole readily available, just in case the wedges failed me. The fifth of six ranks of the woodpile is now complete. The goal is to complete that sixth rank in the next month. I like to have the woodpile complete with six ranks as we head into the fall. With considerable variation based on the success of the individual syrup season, this has proven to be a two years supply of fuel for the evaporator. Wood seasoned for almost two years seemed to make for the hottest fire and an efficient operation.

I split everything that needed to be split with a maul, and, with a tree that size, there is lots of splitting to do. I had forgotten to put the splitting wedges in the truck so there are four rounds, that were set to the side, that need to be split. Splitting proved to be the most physically demanding part of the job. I could feel the efforts of that effort in my shoulders even as we broke for lunch. There are feeling good now, but I expect they may wake me during the night or tomorrow morning they will remind me of the demands I made of them today. Tomorrow is Sunday, the one day each week that, I forgo my morning exercise routine. I think I have earned tomorrow as a day of rest at least for this week.

Th kids should be pleased to hear that I wore the chainsaw chaps and helmet for all the chainsaw work today. The helmet has the best hearing protection, that I have ever used. I seemed to be getting used to the chaps, so no new snags or tears.

We are on the road this weekend--off to the state capitol to celebrate the second birthday of a grandson. The birthday was actually May 1st, so we will be celebrating two weeks late. When the person of the hour is two years old, the adults can probably get away with bending reality. We will have to remember to not discuss this observation in the presence of the child, less a childhood memory be put in place, which will only rear its ugly head ten years into the future and at a terrible price for all involved. Something like--whose convenience were you thinking of?

As it often turns out, my earlier prediction didn't come true. I didn't mow the lawn during the week, so the "no mowing lawn in April" record remains intact. But I can now enter a May 1st mowing date in the books--record or not. With two very modest rains during the week and some windy weather, the yard needed to be tidied up, so I raked that part under the pine trees to gather up the needles and cones that had separated life from limb in recent weeks. From the appearance of both needles and cones, this is clearly a two-step process. Their lives had ceased sometime ago, but only now they have gotten around to separating from the limbs of their birth.

Since the raking effort involved under yesterday's conditions is so much easier than the first raking of the season, I was either inclined to reflect on a potential deeper meaning of the activity or I was simply distracted. As one approaching retirement, I wonder if there is a parallel two-step process for the human species. The message may well be to stay connected, even if one has lost his/her earlier color or his/her seed has already been dispersed. The challenge is to hang on for dear life during the the thunderstorms that pass through from time to time.


The balance of the yard got mowed. It has heavier soil and is less susceptible to drought. It has good color and now a more youthful or, at least, a tidier appearance. One may not always be able to become more youthful, but one can always tidy up.