I don't care if there's still snow on the ground. It's our property and if I say it's summer, then it's summer! Let the good times roll.

April 4, 2020 - Saturday morning

25 degrees/cloudy/windy

Pentoga Road

Yeah, ask me how that summer thing is working out. The temperature dropped thirty degrees overnight and there's a new dusting of snow on the ground this morning. 

Hey, happy anniversary Mom and Dad! After being apart for almost twenty years, with Mom's passing last fall, the folks can celebrate their special day together once again. 

I know exactly what's happening overhead. Dad's chasing Mom around, she's giggling like a school girl and saying, "Dave! Quit Dave!" He's plying her with all sorts of romantic words and goodies (Dad was the ultimate romantic) and they're having a good time. 

Mom and Dad swore their undying and eternal love to each other seventy three years ago. You can bet that nothing's changed. Happy anniversary folks. You kids have fun!

Friday was a Jack of all trades-type day. The sun was bright and the temperature topped out in the mid fifties. Sargie and I took advantage of each and every minute.

At one point, I was tempted to shed my clothes and jump into the pond. When the sons were growing up and we lived in northern Maine, we took a certain pride in being the first to take a plunge into either the St. John or the Allagash Rivers each spring. One year, we actually jumped off the ice into the water. 

Ah, the good old (and often foolish) days...

The first nearby Covid-19 death was reported in Dickinson County, next door, yesterday. Suddenly, the great north woods don't seem like such a formidable barrier to this horrible virus.

Seems odd not to have anyone, other than the people who deliver the nightly paper, pulling into the drive. Following the Governor's orders, Sargie and I are not allowing anyone from the outside to come on the property. We talk to neighbors as they walk by on the road, but everyone keeps their distance. I heard yesterday that up to a thousand dollar fine can be levied to those who are closer than the mandatory six foot distance from any non family member. This is getting serious.

Arriving home from my morning walk on Friday, I lit a fire in the boiler before heading into the woods to collect what little sap had run the night before.

I worked in the barn while attending the boiler. Today should see an end to rearranging and moving the milled lumber. 

I spent time dismantling a large wooden crate in which I've kept odds and ends the past ten years. It's outlived its usefulness and takes up too much room.

I was asked how I ended up with so much one-by (one inch) lumber. I found a HUGE pallet of four foot long, one by fours, sixes, and eights, at the lumber yard a couple of years ago for $50. They're perfect for making names, scroll saw pieces, signs, and trim work, and I figured for $50, I'll not have to buy another piece of one-by-whatever for a long long time.

The round pieces on the right are all potential candidates for bowls that have been saved from the firewood pile.

Meanwhile, it was Sargie's idea, you know, the Superintendent of Lawns, that we get HER riding mower from the storage container and take it to town to have the annual spring maintenance done before mowing season arrives.

Sure, why not? After all, I'd declared earlier in the day that summer had arrived and with it, comes green grass.

I was a bit fearful of getting the mower stuck in the snow/slush/mud, but it slipped and slid through in good shape.

It was summer, right? Time to put the snowblower away for the year.

 Meanwhile, we continued to boil sap. I have no idea how many gallons were evaporated, but the sap rolled and churned from sun up to sun down.

Unfortunately, the sugar content is low. I've never boiled so much sap for so little syrup.

I talked with Luke yesterday who, with a buddy, runs 10,000 taps in Maine. He said they've had the same problem, that the sugar content is horribly low. 

I checked the sugar content of the water in the boiler off and on during the day. Most producers use a hydrometer that measures the density of the syrup.

When the hydrometer floats up to the top red line, it's time to filter and can the syrup. Unfortunately, we never reached that point on Saturday. We're close, but not there yet.

With rain in the forecast and the woods quickly becoming a swamp, we made the decision to pull the taps last night. The last thing we want are permanent ruts going through our maple woods.

It's always a bitter/sweet feeling ending the season. Maples are my favorite tree, providing shade during the summer months, so colorful in the fall, and sharing sap in the early spring. The hard wood is used for making piano sound boards and maple trees provide some of the best firewood. We'll be harvesting and processing several, older, diseased, trees this summer to be burned in the wood stove next winter.

In the woods, Sargie went ahead last night, gathering the last of the sap, while I came behind and pulled taps and disposed of the bags. 



I boiled until sunset Friday evening. Now that it's daylight, it's time to light a fire and get the sap churning once again. My goal is to finish all boiling today and batch off the remaining syrup this afternoon or tonight. Sunday will be spent cleaning the evaporator and putting everything away for another year.

Well, darn it, guess I'd better get that fire going. Ain't no one gonna light it for me.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Out comes the mower, in goes the snowblower.
It's a seasonal exchange that happens every year.