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V The Early Years, spring

Wednesday, June 28th, 2017

Spring

Although all work the sugar house is wrapped up for the season there are still a couple rainy day jobs left, priority being half a dozen wooden crates must be made for shipping syrup to customers in the west. Some lumber is retrieved from the mow over the horse barn, measurements made so boards can be cut to the appropriate length for a crate to fit the order with a hand saw,  bottom and sides nailed together, the ordered quart cans placed inside then the lid nailed on. Now comes the cool part, with the crates loaded in the ‘48 Chevy, we change into going to town clothes fire up the car and go to the CN Rail station in Cowansville where the crates are unloaded at the freight shed with the requisite paper work filled out. The train station is a magical place to a 3 yr. old with it’s smells of coal, creosote mingling with the sight of the steal rails heading endless miles to the west forms an aura of excitement and adventure! Little did I know then that one day I would ride those very same rails west to Edmonton.

The other rainy day job was soldering the leaky buckets, for this father used an electric soldering iron, taking a wire brush the area around the leak was cleaned and roughed up so the solder would adhere, the heated iron placed on the hole just long enough to heat it up then the end of the roll of acid-core solder touched to the hot tin at the hole where the solder liquefies running into the hole sealing it as it cools. When all the buckets are repaired they are returned to the sugar house and when the truck from the co-op picks up the drum of industrial grade syrup sugaring season is really over.

Once the cheques from the syrup sales are in it’s time to head to town to pay the farm’s taxes as April is tax time. The secretary at Heroes Memorial School in Cowansville was charged with the duty of collecting the areas property taxes so a visit to him one must pay. Should the season be a good one, there will be money left over from sugaring, a poor one may mean dipping into the bank account.

The first real job of spring is fence mending as the winter snow loads tend to be hard on any weak spots which may need repair to keep the cattle on your side. Back in the day in Quebec the custom in deciding who was responsible to build/repair a line fence was to meet your neighbour in the center of the property line facing each other, the stretch of fence to your right was your responsibility, to the left was the neighbours. The line and road fences were page wire but for small fixes barb wire was usually sufficient, interior were barbwire. As the north property line fell in the sugar bush north of the CPR tracks where no cattle were pastured that fence was never bothered with. The CPR right of way was fenced by the rail line which provided a gate on each side of the line for direct access to the bush. There was a short angled section on the NNE corner where we looked after the fence plus their entire fence on the east side of the road and cutting the weeds on a small piece of the neighbours property in exchange for the use of a 2 acre field adjoining our own on the NE line, thus we looked after the whole fence line up to the East Farnham road. Back in the day all road fences were the property owner’s responsibility as was the erecting of snow fences, where necessary in the fall. We also did our half of the remaining East boundary plus the South to the point where where it jogged further south then the East of that section, the south road fence then the entire West boundry line as no one lived on the adjoining property in those days.

Father would hitch the trailer (he had no use for wagons) to the C, load it with a few new sharpened cedar posts, a roll of barb wire, crowbar, a bucket of staples, post mall, a couple hammers, staple puller, fencing pliers fenceing pliers a good pair of thick leather gloves, I would climb on and a fence fixin’ we would go. The job was pretty much routine, a broken or sagging stretch of page wire was repaired with a length of barb wire. At a rotten post the staples would be pulled, the post removed, a new hole made beside it with the crowbar, the post set in then pounded further in the ground with the mall then came my job, handing new staples to father to hold the wire in place on the post. This routine was held up a bit when in a meadow about midway along the West boundary we come to  the remains of a foundation with a well mostly filled in over time, we take a break to explore this new, to me, exciting place (where I would return many times over the years playing imaginary roles of adventure).

A short digression for a bit of history. Apparently way back when the area was opened up, the road from Brigham passed through here and the Taber who settled on this farm built his house here. Years later as more settlers came the roads were built along the range (concession in Qntario) lines thus the Brigham road was moved a bit south. Now Taber being a man of ingenuity, skidded the house to the present location which he lived in until the main house (grandfather’s house) Hawke when was Taber farm (1) was built, over the years it was expanded to become our house.

Break over we finish the line fence, progress to the road fences followed by this years pasture fences. The final fence job is taking down the snow fence set about a hundred feet back from the road to the hill North of the house on the Adamsville road.

                                                                                                                     Hawke Farm   Hawke Farm labeled

The seasons change but the cows still have to be milked twice daily, 6am and 5pm on our place, (the only change in this routine occurs twice a year when due to a stupid idea Benjamin Franklin dreamed up we go on/off Daylight Saving Time fortunately El Salvador doesn’t follow this foolishness) so morning chores still have the same routine. As cows like to stick to a routine, a change stresses them resulting in decreased milk production so during the last couple weeks in April milking time would be moved forward 5 minutes a day (some moved it 2 minutes/day over the whole month and we had a neighbour who stayed on standard time all year). With the days slowly creeping longer while the temperature grows warmer, cows sensing a change in the weather grow restless in their stanchions.

With sugaring over the snow gone the fields drying under the suns rays the next job on the farm is spreading the manure from the pile that has grown steadily larger each winters day. Father, who has a severe dislike for horses, hitches the new International Harvester Farmall C tractor 006 (3) , purchased the previous year to replace the old doodlebug,

Eileen Hawke on home made tractor

to the spreader, pulls alongside the pile and with a dung fork begins the tedious chore of loading tons of manure to be spread on the fields giving much needed nutrients to the soil. Fortunately (as the dung fork or any other version of the ‘Mexican dragline’ were never on my list of favourite tools to operate), I am too small to do anything but supervise this chore.

After a light skiffing of manure has been applied to the pastures, one sunny morning there comes a much anticipated (by man and beast alike) change in the morning chore routine for instead of opening the mow door for hay, the west stable door is opened wide, as the first stanchion opened the rest raise  ruckus while awaiting their turn at a days freedom to go frolicking in pasture’s green grass in the spring sun. In a couple weeks, when the night-time temperature has moderated the cows will be turned out after the evenings milking as well eliminating much of the stable chores as the young cattle will also be let out into the south bush lot and meadows for the summer, only the bull and small calves are left in the barn. On a slack spring day after the cows are turned out the stable will be thoroughly cleaned, floor walls and ceiling  in preparation for a coat of whitewash whitewash sprayer  whitewashing (a requirement of the Guaranteed Pure Milk Co.) Guaranteed Pure Milk Co to be applied.

With sugaring history, the cattle out to pasture and the stable all spiffed up for when the milk inspector with a touch of spring fever leaves his office in the city for a drive in the country to stop by it’s seeding time.

The first job is hooking the tractor to a set of spring tooth harrows BartleyRanchSpringToothHarrow  (they were a better option than discs on our stone littered fields) 3 passes made a nice smooth seed bed. Next came a job I could help with picking stones, grandfather would hook the team to the stone boat Stone boat throw a chain and crowbar on board and off we would go. I could handle the small ones while father and grand father picked the larger ones, occasionally we came to one large enough to need the crowbars help. There were also a few big ones that required placing the chain around it so that when a horse was unhooked from the boat then to the chain the pull would roll it onto the boat, once the boat was loaded grandfather drove it to the fields fence line stone pile to be unloaded. Needless to say that after a days stone picking there was no problem falling asleep.

Father used a seven year rotation so the farm’s tillable acreage was broken up into seven fields of approximately 6 acres each with one field field ploughed every fall to be spring seeded in a hay mix of red clover, alfalfa, timothy and brome grass with a cover crop of oats. The oats were the first years crop, followed by four yrs of hay with 2 yrs pasture making up the seven yrs.

With the seedbed prepared, any troublesome stones removed seeding could begin. First father pulled the mccormick drill (1) McCormick–Deering ihc logiih grain drill (1) 11 run seed drill  from its storage spot in the old stable, greased and oiled it up making sure nothing had seized over the winter and was in proper working order with none of the seed tubes plugged (this same seed drill was used for all crops on the farm for for over 40 years from my earliest memory in the ‘40’s until the last crop father planted in early ‘80’s). The trailer was then  loaded with bags of fertilizer, seed oats and grass seed, it was then taken to the field to be seeded and parked on the headland near the center of the field. Next the grass seed box was filled with a mixture of clover/alfalfa seed, the grain seed box filled with a mixture of oats/timothy/brome grass, lastly the fertilizer compartment is filled to the brim.

The tractor with drill is driven to the end of the field with grandfather riding on the board running across the back of the drill where he lowers the lever putting the disc seed furrow openers in the soil which engages the mechanism that regulates the pre-set seed flow. At the end of the field grandfather raised the lever disengaging the drill, father turns the rig around so one wheel of the drill follows in the wheel track of the previous trip, grad father lowers the lever and another round is made. This continues with breaks to refill the seed and fertilizer boxes until the field is seeded, the trailer is then moved so a final two passes can be made to seed the headlands. The drill is then emptied, cleaned with the fertilizer compartment abundantly oiled to prevent corrosion then parked back in it’s place. Any remaining seed or fertilizer on the trailer is put back in storage. Finally the C is hooked to the 3 drum land roller which not only compacts the seed bed it also makes the field smoother for hay cutting. Once the roller is back in its storage spot, another years seeding is done.

On the eastern boundary of the farm on the south side of the East Farnham road there is an irregular shaped field of about an acre cut off from the rest of the farm by a fairly deep drainage ditch making it unfriendly to loads of loose hay so it was the designated turnip field. Once the new hayfield seeding was complete father would work up that field with the harrows, then grandfather would hitch one horse to turnip planter turnip planter to finish the fields springs work.

As father was an International man and the local dealer carried their toys I had the full line of IH machinery, a Farmall H tractor, manure spreader, 2 furrow drag plow, disc harrows, TD 24 dozer plus a single axle highway tractor complete with van trailer with opening barn doors. There was also other tin toys a hay mower, dump truck, mobile crane (these toys were still on the farm when I returned home from the west with my wife and Leon they were played with by a 2nd generation, they came to ON with me to be left with Shane when he bought the Kendal house for a 3rd generations enjoyment), these combined with my Meccano set Meccano_No7_Instructions_(front) gave me the ability to do any job so while I was waiting for my legs to grow long enough to operate the real C, I could practice doing the jobs with my toys. In between these spring jobs I would take play breaks riding my tricycle Buker Dave (1) around or practicing backing up with the 2 wheel trailer that attached to the back with a draw pin just like the tractor or riding my wagon Calf down the barn bridge hill, Hawke farm (2) even got so I could do that backwards to the dismay of some city visitors whose silliness thought it dangerous

Back at the house from the turnip field with the harrows father would work up the vegetable/flower garden, being careful not to disturb the horseradish patch nor the asparagus stand. Grandfather could then remove his prizewinning gladiola bulbs from the barn floor in the haymow where they were dried during the winter to place them back in the warm earth where they would flourish (until Labour Day to win a 1st place red ribbon at the Brome County Fair). I would then help mother and grandmother with the garden that would supply the bulk of our veggies for the year, my favourites being the parsnips dug as soon as the frost is out of the ground and asparagus boiled then smothered in melted cheese.

  The garden is bordered on the west side by mauve lilac bushes lilac whose blossoms were the harbingers of spring, at the south west end are the asparagus canes, the horseradish patch then towards the north end lay a plot reserved for the gladiolas, iris, tulip bulb plants, working east are peas, beans, pole, green (which to this day I hate) and yellow (don’t mind them), now comes a couple rows of sweet corn followed next by the patch I liked planting best pumpkins, squash and ornamental gourd seeds best as they were nice and large for easier handling. Now we come to the pansy bed containing at least a gazillion of the purtiest flower in the garden. Now we leave a vacant space for the beefsteak ‘maters to be transplanted after May 24th when the danger of night-time frost has past next come the mundane veggies, carrots, beats etc., yur rabbit food, lettuce, spinach, cabbage, parsley finally there are a couple rows of ‘taters for new potatoes in the summer (the main potato crop for winter storage is planted later in a patch alongside the seeded field) as the garden ends at the roadside the inevitable ditch lilies ditch liley add colourful orange border.

In addition to the main garden there are other berry plots and flowers scattered around the yard, growing by the stable’s east wall are a couple bushes of brilliant yellow wild roses, moving towards the house the lower part of south wall is hidden by  honeysuckle honeysuckle with their clustering flowers, accenting the front windows on the east side of our house are two window-boxes of red geraniums, beside the north wall of grandfather’s house nestled in the shade of white lilacs in a small space before the cedar hedge that borders the yard is a patch of lily-of-the-valley lily-of-the-valley with their tiny white bell-shaped blooms. Hiding a good portion of the west wall of our house is a plethora of golden glow. golden glow Continuing to the back of the yard we come to an arbour of purple grapes, moving west we spy a rhubarb patch with it’s neighbouring strawberry one (no pie can beat strawberry-rhubarb) behind these lie the current bushes both red and white. Finally to the north of the laneway between the garage and back-field is the extensive raspberry patch, mainly purple with a few canes of black or red for variety.

While not really part of the garden, out behind the barn in the calf pasture is an unkempt old orchard with a crab-apple tree, some small apples still form on the tree which while still green make a nice tart treat when rubbed on the pasture’s cow salt block, perhaps the cow-spit adds to the taste? Perhaps that’s why I enjoy a bottle of Smirnoff Green Apple at the end of the day. cow-licking-salt-block-arizona-cfgtf9

The transition from winter to spring meant that the stable chores were greatly reduced as the cattle were now living outside, less clothing was needed, heating the house was no longer needed so only the cook stove had to be fuelled and cleaned. March brought the last Farm Radio Forum broadcasts of the season so the Monday night meetings were adjourned until after fall’s harvests. There was now a bit of a break to catch up on other chores pertaining to farm life prior to the arrival of summer’s haying season!

V The Early Years, winter

Wednesday, June 28th, 2017

                                                                       The home farm East Farnham QC

The time is 1949 WWII that ended the depression of the ‘30’s has over for four yrs., the economy is picking up, technology is increasing with it’s prices getting cheaper so more can afford more. The location, a family dairy farm a couple miles NNW of East Farnham,  nestled in the valley between 2 branches of the Yamaska River at the NW corner of Brome County in Quebec’s Eastern Townships. 45o 15’ 41.30” N  72o 47’ 45.38” W elevation 119m

Winter

A waning moon throws a pale light on the snow-covered landscape illuminating a country road passing through the pastoral countryside dotted with 100 acre dairy farms. A 5 ton Chevy truck wends its way along in the predawn moonlight road dropping off empty eight gallon milk cans, with a clatter, here and there a precursor to the start of a new day on the farm.

The ringing sound of the cans kissing each other before being deposited with a crunch in the frosty snow-covered driveway awakes 3 1/2 yr old Davey who, toasty warm  in his flannelette pj’s  snuggled deep under the covers, spying frost-covered window panes glistening in the moonlight knows this will be another adventure filled day.

Being located where the milk trucks route where the cans 1949HaulingMilk are dropped off just before 5am makes that a good alarm clock for the start of the day on the Hawke farm. ( unbeknownst to young Davey now in years to come it will also serve as a curfew from a night of carousing, get home before the milk truck so parents don’t know when you got in, or so you think) Davey now has a half hour or so to make plans for the day as with the temperature in the minus degrees Fahrenheit on a typical January day, it takes a while for his father to get up and get a fire lit in the cook stove in the kitchen and the coal fired Quebec heater Quebec heater in the front room to take the chill off the house. His grandfather must do the same with the furnace in his adjoining house as the shared bathroom is on his side, accessed by a connecting door.

A typical winters day would start by ‘helping’ with the chores, this entailed getting bundled up in snowsuit, winter boots, mittens, scarf and toque, taking a couple quick toboggan slides down the barn bridge hill with the dog on the way to the stable. Once in the stable where the heat from the animals kept it warm the mittens and scarf could be ditched. The cows would be chomping on chopped turnips Turnip cutter covered with dairy ration while father was milking with grandfather stripping them, father said this was unnecessary with the new McCormick-Deering milkers but it kept him happy so no harm done. The dog and so barn cats got warm milk, the cats weren’t overfed as it was their job to keep the barn rodent free and the dog also got table scraps, there was usually a calf or two to be pail fed and I was getting big enough to help with this. In between my ‘chores’ there was time to play in the  haymow. When milking was done loose hay from the mow was forked into the mangers for cows to munch on during the day then father was washing up the milkers IH milker I would help grandfather feed the chickens Chicken man  and horses.

Chores done with an appetite worked up it was breakfast time, a big glass of milk, usually porridge with a bit of Jersey milk topped with maple sugar, eggs boiled or poached, bacon and I seem to remember prunes often being served followed by a teaspoon of hated cod liver oil. Father always had a dish of maple syrup as desert.

Next father went back to the barn to clean the gutters, bring in fresh sawdust and straw for bedding, brush the cows and generally keep the place tidy as the milk inspector could show up at anytime. I would observe and supervise a bit but was too small to be of much help so spent a while with the toboggan on the barn bridge hill and playing with my fleet of trucks and tractors in the snow. Had to make sure I was out of the way before the milk truck returned to pick up the full cans. I would then return to the house to see what mother and grandmother were doing, thus I honed my domestic skills to balance the outside ones.

Mid-morning every second day the bread man comes, some times mother can be talked into buying a box of jelly donuts.

As winter is a slow time of year nothing too exciting goes on in the kitchen just mundane cooking for a meat and potato diet with preserved veggies, the exception being if there was a church supper in the offing, then there would be preparations for baked beans, chicken pie with dumplings or the inevitable scalloped potato casserole to be served with baked ham. A special treat would be the odd Saturday morning spent at grandmother Mahannah’s preparing the dough for donuts, rolling it out on the flour covered cutting board, using the cutter to size them and make the hole then frying them in the big cast iron pot on the wood stove, there’s nothing like a warm freshly made donut on a cold winters day.

Now with preparations for dinner (the main meal of the day) underway it’s time for some indoor play, there’s my truck and tractor fleet, my farm animal collection, miniature tea set I can choose from to use my imagination to create unlimited scenarios or there is always a colouring book to practice my keeping within the line skills, blocks to build forts with and best of all picture books where you are transported to a different world. There is never a lack of ways to pass the time.

Dinner time, a roast or other cut of beef or on occasion pork or chicken, potatoes and veggies from the root cellar, preserves with a pie or pudding for desert. Coffee for father, tea for mother and all the Jersey milk I can drink for me, maybe add a bit of ‘Quick’ to it if I’ve been good. Accompanying dinner would be the noon CBC Farm Broadcast , this 15 minute show included the current days cattle and farm produce prices, the weather plus ongoing saga of the The Craigs comedy sketch.

After dinner in nap time for all. The afternoon could be spent in many ways, possibly a trip to town as there’s always groceries to be bought, bills to pay, friends to visit. On a lucky day there might be a trip to the garage to get something repaired. We didn’t normally travel far in those days, the general store in Adamsville for groceries, vehicle repairs also in Adamsville, Post office in East Farnham, Church in Brigham, bank and other shopping in Cowansville plus a couple trips a year to Montreal for things not available locally. (little did I know then but for the next 7 decade’s I would choose my long term residences in or in the vicinity of a small village with necessities available that was within 15 minutes of a town where most purchases could be made and under an hour from a major city) Most afternoons though were spent ‘helping’ father with outside chores, mother with her inside ones plus time in my own imaginary world.

5pm was afternoon milking time where morning chores were repeated. 

Supper was a light meal at days end usually dinner left overs with possibly soup or a sandwich.

The evening would be spent listening to the radio, playing records, family board games and discussing the days events, planning future activities. I would be hustled off to bed by eight. Some nights we hosted a Farm Radio Forum or medical coop meeting and I was allowed to meet the people, in my pj’s before going upstairs to bed then I overheard their talk until the sandman whisked me off to dreamland.

This was a typical winters day 6 days a week, Sundays Dave 1 barn chores were kept to the essentials after which we would jump in the ‘48 Chevrolet for the hop to the United church in Brigham followed by a visit to my grandparents farm near Farnham Center. Mahannah Farm There were also interludes with days suffering the normal childhood diseases of chickenpox, measles etc when I was confined to the house.

 

        Sugaring Season

In the Eastern Townships there was a period of time between the dreary n dark days of February ‘til the peeping through the snow of the first Mayflowers, it runs roughly from just prior to the Ides of March to Easter (an early Easter almost always signifies a short season) or as Peter McCarthur so eloquently penned in  his poem ‘Sugar Weather’ “When the snow balls on the horses’ hoofs, And the wind from the south blows warm, — It’s off to the sugar bush I go, For the sap will run I know.

 

The advent of geese in the sky accompanied with steadily warming daytime temperatures means it’s (*scroll down to the poem) Sugar Weather time to head to the sugar bush, which in a good will bring in enough to pay the taxes on the farm.

                                                                                                                                            Sugaring

The horses jittery from a long winter in their stalls are brought out, hitched to a set of double sleds commence the tiring task of breaking roads through the bush so we can get to the trees for tapping then later gathering the sap. With some creaking the doors to the sugar house are opened to reveal the stacks of buckets, the forlorn arches unused for the better part of the year. the evaporator resting against a rafter along with the other various sundries used in making of the renowned sweet syrupy substance, Quebec Maple Syrup!

Buckets loaded on the sled grandfather would follow the newly broken roads dropping buckets at every mature tree, one to four depending on the size. Father and I would follow to tap the trees (eleven hundred taps in all) with a pail full of spouts, brace n bit hammer, brace and bit stopping at each maple father would bore a hole on a slight upward angle a bit longer than the spout would penetrate I would hand him the cast-iron spout which he would tap firmly in with the hammer. Due to the shortness of my legs combined with the depth of the snow and the cumbersome snowsuit I would be plum tuckered out by the time grandfather’s sleds were empty so I would hitch ride back to the house where mother would have a cup of steaming hot chocolate waiting.

As this road making and tapping had to be fitted in between milking, other barn chores, cleaning and preparing the sugar house, the better part of a week would be spent on the preparations. First the 10 ft evaporator pan Syrup 1 (the pic is of a small unit with the evaporator pan and finishing pan combined) have to be washed and set on the arch, a job requiring at least three people this is followed by the 4 ft square finishing pan which must be plumbed to it then the sap holding tank cleaned and plumbed into the evaporator. A couple 5 gal. cream cans to hold the syrup from the finishing pan were cleaned, a couple leaky old sap buckets had the bottoms cut out made excellent funnels for the hot syrup coming off the finishing pan into the cream cans, felt strainers inserted in these buckets were held in place with clothes pins to filter the nitre out of the finished syrup. All that remained was to string a very long extension cord from the garage to the sugar house for lights and the radio which at noon would be tuned to the CBC for the noon Farm Report followed by the latest adventures of ‘The Craigs’, otherwise it was tuned to CJAD

As the weather warms the trees sap starts dripping sap drip into the buckets the team is hooked to the sleds each tree is visited to empty the contents of it’s buckets into a 5 gallon pail to fill the 120 gallon gathering tank in the sled. Once full a trip maple-sap-collocting to the sugar house, where a hill has been made so the gathering tank’s outlet hose will be higher than the sides of the holding tank. On arrival an access door is removed, an end of portable trough going to the storage tank is placed on the wagon, the discharge hose gathering tank lowered into the trough and the season’s first load of sap starts gushing into the tank.

Once storage tank has adequate sap father would lay a fire in the arch that held 4ft lengths of wood,the sap would enter the evaporator pan from the storage tank wending it’s way back and forth through the pan’s channels as it increasingly hotter with each pass as it starts to steam impurities will surface in a foam which are removed with a skimmer (a dipper with screened holes) should the foam start to overflow the pan, a small bottle of milk with holes in the lid is kept handy as a few drops of milk will calm the foaming and make it magically disappear. During this process 39 gallons of water will be evaporated out the vents for every gallon of syrup produced. A valve is opened allowing the thickening liquid to leave the evaporating pan and enter the front finishing pan where the science that says maple sap becomes maple syrup at 219 degrees Fahrenheit  becomes an art with the cook determines exact texture, colour and taste by his experienced eye. As the thermometer gradually climbs to the 219oF mark experience tells when to add lighter wood to the front of the arches fire to make it hotter, a dipper is then used to check the consistency of the syrup as it flows off, when the flow is just right the drain spout is lowered, the fire dampened, the dipper in constant use until the syrup thins ant the spout raised.

On a day when the sap isn’t running due to cooler temperatures or in the evening of a slow run day we can the syrup for storage and shipping, quart tins purchased from Cowansville Hardware are laid out in a row on the bench, father pours the syrup from the milk cans into a gallon pitcher fills each can to the brim then I place a lid on the can, father places each can in the canning machine can seamer slowly turning the crank which rotates the can while applying increasing pressure to the lever that folds the lip of the lid over the can then pushing the lever the other way to complete the seal in another couple rotations. Later the cans to be sold will have printed labels saying Pure Maple Syrup S. T. Hawke East Farnham Que. wrapped around the can with a mucilage glue holding them in place.

With the coming of Easter signifying the end of the season brings the best part of the season, relatives from far and near congregate at the farm for Easter dinner followed by a visit to the bush, where a wagon with a 6 inch covering of snow awaits, for the tasty treat sugar on snow maple-taffy made from late season syrup.This is made taking the darker third grade syrup, poured into a 4x3ft pan placed on a smaller arch heating it up to 230oF the gallon pitcher filled then poured onto the snow on the wagon where all gather round to pig out on the once a year treat.

The remaining syrup in the pan is heated further to 2420F allowed to cool down to 155oF then constantly stirred to the consistency of sugar, scooped into quart cans, sealed and labeled Soft Sugar. If desired a further heating to 245oF will produce Hard Sugar which is formed into bricks or put into moulds to make  Maple Sugar Candies.

Anyone wanting to tap the maple in the back yard can find a wealth of information here

Following Easter the last runs and boiling over the wrap-up of the season begins on bare ground now we traipse through the bush pulling spouts  from the budding maples as the birds chirp overhead. Stacking buckets by the roads through the woods dotted by pockets of pinkish-white Mayflowers mayflower as the crows caw in the distance. The woods are alive now, not only overhead with new life in the trees but also on the ground a if i am quiet and listen closely I can hear a mouse scurrying through the dead leaves in search of dinner. Coming close to a copse of evergreens a partridge drums it’s wings. We will return tomorrow with the team and wagon which replaced the sleds as the snow disappeared from the bush roads.

With the #1 & #2 grade syrup plus the soft sugar canned, labelled and moved to a storage shed at the house, the year end dark syrup in a 45 gallon drum for shipment to le Fédération des producteurs acéricolesde Québec  to be sold for commercial use, only clean up remains, a small fire is made in the arch, a couple gallons of remaining warm sap in the evaporator pan is used to top up the wooden barrel of maple vinegar. Both pans are then thoroughly washed with hot water, drained, the plumbing disconnected and stored. A gathering tank load of water  run into the storage tank so it can be scrubber clean of any sticky sap residue before also being drained.

With the evaporator pan manhandled back into it’s resting place against the rafter, finishing pan nestled by it’s side by it’s side, the ash removed from the arch, a fair days work has been done.

The next warm sunny day the bucket washing takes place. A final gathering tank of water is brought down, a fire made in the small sugaring off arch heating the pan full of water which is then paled to the bucket washer bucket washer outside where the stacks of 1,100+ buckets await in the now empty wood shed. Father dons his mid-arm length rubber gloves (the water is hot) takes a bucket from the pile washes it, holds it up to the sun checking for then hands it off to be placed on the grass to be dried by the sun, buckets needing repair are placed in a separate location, this is a job I can help with. Buckets, spouts, dippers all washed we call it a day.

Lastly we return to the sugar house to pick up the clean buckets, stack them in their place inside, other utensils put in their place, bucket washer and gathering tank in their place also inside the sugar house. With the buckets in need of repair are loaded on the wagon, along with the radio, the extension cord rolled up, Sugar Season is over for another year.

The leaks buckets will be soldered on a rainy day as now there is Springs work to be done!