Category Archives: Local
Sugaring
Spring is definitely around the corner when open house time comes to sugar houses around the state. This weekend was it. My daughter and I hopped over the hill to Shelburne Farms for their event. We got there late in the morning and started things off with their benefit pancake breakfast. We ate pancakes with, duh, maple syrup and sipped hot beverages (cocoa for her, coffee for me) before wandering about the animal barns. There was a passel of new lambs we oohed at for a while, guarded by a llama (it sported a hand written sign that read “I Spit!”). Then we made our way up the muddy trail to the sugar house.
The sugar house was a busy place–lots of visitors and lots of steam. The sap was running and syrup was in the making.
We had the opportunity to taste the generous doses of fresh syrup that volunteers were handing out and we walked up the hill to see the lines–tubes that catch the sap and run it down to the collector to be boiled down. They tap about 500 trees (I paid attention during the lesson) so they make a fair amount of syrup, most of which gets used the in restaurant on site. I will have to head back over there at some point for breakfast.
We tried to stop at Palmer’s Sugarhouse on the way home to purchase some syrup even closer to home. We stopped and headed inside but that place was so packed we would have had to wait at least a half hour in line. Forget it. They were boiling like mad with their oil-fueled system–bigger and faster than the system at Shelburne Farms, no doubt. I’ll go back to Palmer’s some time this week and buy a couple gallons. If they still have it.
We have enough maple syrup to get us through for a little while, but that stuff is just plain old good. Makes me want to whip up some yeasted waffle batter tonight so we can have them in the morning. But maybe I’m not quite that ambitious. The ideal situation would be if someone else made the waffles. That however, ain’t happening. Maybe next weekend.
Serious Cold on the Way
In the wee hours this morning the temperature at our house dropped to 3 degrees. We stayed above zero. The high today has been 16 degrees. Pretty standard winter situation happening. Tonight we will have some colder weather, maybe 10 below. The temperature will barely top zero tomorrow. Monday will be even colder, with 20 below predicted for Sunday night and a daytime high of -2. Plus some wind. It will be chilly.
When I moved to Burlington years ago we had a cold snap. The temperature dropped to 39 below zero. I was disappointed. The record low was 40 below. If it is going to be that cold, why not break the record? We have a warm house. The woodstove warms us right now. It will tomorrow as well.
I find this serious cold exciting. Weather extremes in general are exciting. They give us something to share with our neighbors. They give us stories to tell. They remind me of my humanity. They make me feel alive. Digging out from a snowstorm, or getting stuck at home for a while, humble me. I feel small and part of the larger world. Our artificial human constraints let us forget that we are not in control. We cannot rule the weather. Given that we tend to be so self-serving as a species, that is for the best.
We will have some clear nights coming up. Good for watching stars. And for curling up on the couch with a book. I will try to do some of both.
How to Clear a Roof
When it snows a lot, one sometimes has to be creative to get the snow cleared. I have used a snow rake myself many a time, and I have even stood up on the roof with a shovel to shove the white stuff to the ground. This morning I was at Hulbert Outdoor Center in Fairlee. They made the work go a little quicker by hauling a small snowblower up a ladder and using the power of internal combustion to remove the foot of snow on a shallow roof. Creativity at its best.
Water in and Out
Rain. That’s what we’ve got. And plenty of it. It started raining last night just after dark. And it kept falling. All night, all morning. It is still raining. I sat in a morning workshop for a few hours today and I kept looking out the window. I was distracted by rain. It fell hard and never let up. My umbrella got some use, as did my windshield wipers. And my boots. It is wet.
It is snowing up high. The road up the way is flooded. The road up the other way will likely be flooded by tomorrow. A bit of a mess. The frogs love it. It replenishes the water table. We won’t run out of water in the house any time soon. My water bottle will be full.
Yesterday I worked at a school. Students dumped quarters into the vending machine slots to get water. Right next to the water fountain. Right next to the restroom with running water. They washed their hands with water clean enough to drink, then spent money to buy water. Then tossed the empty plastic bottle in the trash. What gives with that?
People from across the thought spectrum in the United States talk about “common sense.” And then we spend millions of dollars on bottled water. Common sense? I’m not so sure of that. And we throw away the bottles. Again, is this common sense? No way Jose.
I have a colleague who feels bottled water is totally fine because “I always recycle the bottles.” Good for you! But if you did not purchase the bottled water to begin with you would save lots of resources and money and energy. And your purse would be fatter.
The rain falls and falls. Free water. Clean water. Healthy water. If you on board with understanding the tragedy and the scam of bottled water, then I’m glad to hear it. If not, then consider watching the Story of Stuff video about bottled water. It might enlighten you.
For other stories about water issues around the world, check out the Blog Action Day web site.
Tractor Parade Portrait Gallery
My family and I went to the tractor parade in Charlotte yesterday. It was the 10th annual event, held on the tenth day of the tenth month. It delivered, as usual, even if it did start more than an hour after the start time. But so it is.
I did not have a good spot to stand this time. We dithered a bit before things got started so, while the children were right up there next to the road, I stood behind some chairs that someone had set up and left empty the whole time. I had a really tall guy uphill from me, in the direction the tractors were coming from. Plus, there were just simply people all around. So I changed my focus. Instead of taking pictures of the tractors, I took pictures of the people driving the tractors. Here is a gallery of some of those portraits.
Unconscious Singing and a Wrench
My son loves to sing. He sings all the time–while building a boat out of legos, while sitting down to breakfast, even while falling asleep. He sings songs with words and songs without. He hums. He is just a happy guy. I was thinking yesterday about how I love this about him. He shares his happiness with the world.
Yesterday he and I went for a bike ride–not too far, just a slow peddle down the road to enjoy the amazing day. He was, as he so often is, singing as we went. We talked about this and that, of course, and were having a fine time. Now, this road we live on is not paved, and any unpaved road in Chittenden County, Vermont’s most populous, becomes a destination for walkers, runners and bikers. We live on this one and we use it for all three of these activities. Lots of other people do as well.
Yesterday, as on any given weekend day, comers from parts unknown came to take advantage of the unpavedness of our road. They walked and ran. When my son and I headed out on our bicycles, two women were walking in the same direction we planned to go. They were well ahead of us. With the speed of our two-wheeled vehicles, however, we caught up with them, despite our slow rate. Although we saw them, these two women did not see us. They ambled along, chatting loudly, gesticulating as they conversed. As we got close behind them, on the other side of the road mind you, my son sang a semi-wordless tune.
Once we got close enough, this scared the pants off them. They turned and jumped. Well, one of them jumped, and this made the other jump. On the one hand I felt bad for them–a nice peaceful walk interrupted by a dangerous and insidious force, a beast who’s only goal is slay the innocent walkers…Wait, it’s only a kid and his dad. On the other hand, I thought this was funny as hell and had to suppress my laughter. They laughed, however–perhaps nervously–but they laughed.
We were close enough that I could see that the woman closest to us was carrying something. My first thought, given the reaction she had just had, was that it was mace. She walked with someone else and with a weapon to ward off would-be assailants. But it was only a wrench, maybe 1/2 inch. This struck me, as it may have struck others in this situation, as somewhat, well, what’s up with the wrench? I didn’t say, this of course. What I said, as we passed them, was, after one of them noted what a fine day it was, that it could be finer if only I had a wrench with which to fix my bike. The woman carrying it offered it to me, with grand generosity, asking if it was mine. It turns out she found it on the road.
I wasn’t missing a wrench, but I liked both that she offered it to me, despite my sarcasm, and that she picked it up to begin with. Someone dropped it and maybe she could find a place to leave it. She noted that she might just find a use for it, that she must have found it for a reason, and my son and I kept on going. So in the end, all was well, and it couldn’t have been a better day. I mean, the foliage was shining, my ears were full of song, I was riding my bike with my son, and I was offered a wrench, maybe 1/2 inch. What more could one want?
Your Standard Fall Day Around Here
Geese are heading south. That’s what they do this time of year. We heard lots of them today. A flock honks its way overhead as I type this. We some a few large flocks of them as we did our things outdoors on this fine fall day.
Our neighbor came over this afternoon to mow the wet stretch of our field. We have had cattails galore, not to mention a crazy amount of purple loosestrife, plowing itself down the middle of the field since we moved in, and likely before that. We hired him to get a handle on it. The loosestrife will come back, but it we keep at it we might eventually keep it in check. Ideally the field dries out enough with the tall boys out of there that we can simply mow it and hay it.
We took a walk out t see the effects of the crashing and slashing. We found a vole, hopping about, confused about what the heck just happened. Then we saw a mouse. We had a good look at both of these typically hiding critters as they tried to find a place to hide from the huge beasts on their turf. We also managed to see a small garter snake and a large frog. The latter was a bullfrog, and it was honkin’. Wildlife coming out of the woodwork, so to speak.
Yesterday we spent the afternoon at Shelburne Farms’s Harvest Festival. That always proves to be a fun event. We had corn on the cob–fire-roasted–and watched a play and took a hay ride and got some face painting and checked out the animals and ran into friends. We had a fine time and will go back again next year. On the way home we turned the corner to find the sun pouring down through a hole in the clouds. It was, as you might imagine, stunning. So far, fall is off to an ideal start. No complaints here.
Fall Arrives
Yesterday we had one more shot of summer. It was hot, in the 80’s. Not so much today. Right now, with darkness settled over the house, rain falls. It drips off the eave and taps the deck. It collects in the hollows of the field. It pools in the driveway and brushes the walls and trees. It is cool. Fall is here.
A couple of weeks ago I was fortunate to hike for three days on the long trail. It felt like fall up high. Leaves were starting to turn in spots. I had some heat but the nights were chilly. As the sun set on my first night, the last of the light caught a few maple leaves framed in the canopy. They were bright from the setting sun, and brighter still in their lack of chlorophyl.
This rain is not unlike the rain I heard on my last night. As I climbed up and over Mount Mansfield (my first time up there in almost 20 years in Vermont), fog blew in. I did not get much of a view. I waited up there for an hour or so, and caught a few glimpses of the scene below, but mostly I saw white.
That afternoon it rained a little here and there and then rained more heavily at night. I had thought that I might climb back up in the morning if it had cleared, but no go. So I headed down.
It rains again now, more heavily than when I started writing this. The nights are cooler. The days are shorter. Leaves change. Fall nudges summer out.
Creemee Musings
I painted the house for a while today and when I took a break for lunch was offered the idea of heading to the creemee stand for a cone. I did not want to disappoint my children, who have not had the pleasure of my company for such a foray for several weeks. I could not refuse. So after lunch, and a quick pop outside to scrape just a little more, we hopped in the family rig for a treat.
I chose to get something different, something unusual, something I have not had, as I mentioned to my wife when it emerged from the window, since I was about nine years old–a small vanilla swirled frozen soft ice cream delight. I never get vanilla, unless it is accompanied by its partner chocolate. I also mentioned to this same wife of mine that the last time I had a vanilla cone I did not refer to it as a “creemee.” I just called it soft serve ice cream. So we discussed my transition, when I moved to Vermont, from “soft serve” to “creemee” as one worth making and full of portent for our once blossoming relationship.
The vanilla was, indeed, tasty. It was hardly plain for me, as it so rarely visits my palate, so I enjoyed it with gusto. My daughter had respberry. My son had maple. My wife had none, having succumbed to the urge to eat ice cream at home earlier in the day. There are six choices at our local creemee stand–vanilla, chocolate, raspberry, maple, vanilla and chocolate swirled, and maple and raspberry swirled. The maple and raspberry combination would seem to be the least popular, but many people like it. My wife compared it to raspberry pancakes with maple syrup; a good comparison.
I considered that this latter combination might be the least popular creemee flavor, but I could only speculate, so I went to the window, where the perky teenage server had helped us earlier, and asked her “What is the least popular creemee flavor ordered?” She did not hesitate to tell me, “chocolate, hands down.” She continued, “I’m not sure why; chocolate is my favorite and is pretty much all I get.” She told me that the two-flavor mix in question is actually one of the most popular orders. And plain vanilla is probably right up there, although she wasn’t counting or anything.
Maple is not a regular flavor for creemees, even in Vermont, but is all my son wants. He isn’t alone, despite that most maple creemees are not made with real maple syrup. The ones that are–whoo baby!–that is some fine gustatory enjoyment I tell you.
Whoda thunk chocolate would be the least popular flavor? People will eat anything if it involves chocolate–coffee beans, ants, gummi bears (I mean, come on people, gummi bears?), bacon. I guess I was more in the main stream with my vanilla cone than I would have thought. I know vanilla is popular, but I would have thought chocolate would have been more popular. I don’t know doodly. Apparently.
I did enjoy the vanilla cone. Next time, however, I’m getting chocolate, or at least vanilla and chocolate. Call me a maverick. You might as well, since you won’t be able to call me plain vanilla.





























