Sugaring Off

It sounds dirty, doesn't it? Well, it's not, but it is exciting and delicious and sticky. "Sugaring off" is the term in these parts (Quebec, anyway) for the yearly collection of maple sap. And all of that sap collection and processing happens at the sugar bush, but let's not talk about that--this is a family blog, after all.

Ok, enough with the double entendres. We've got more important things to talk about here, things like maple syrup, and maple cotton candy. Yeah, it's pretty much the best thing in the world.

For those of you who read the Little House books, you may remember the maple candy made from pouring hot maple syrup on the snow. I (and my sister) have been obsessed with the idea of making candy in snow since--ok, obsessed might be too strong a word, but fascinated and unfulfilled with deep longing, certainly. So, moving to the maple syrup capital of the world was pretty exciting for me and I've been waiting for eight months for the sap to start running.

The maple taffy on the snow was pretty tasty, and I am happy to have fulfilled my childhood dream, but the maple cotton candy made the taffy seem kind of sad. Mmm, maple cotton candy.





In addition to the sugary gluttony, I also learned a few things about maple syrup. Like the fact that the sap is clear. I knew the sap was cooked to get to the final product, but I always expected the sap to come from the tree looking a bit more syrupy. But, nope, it looks and tastes pretty much like water.


The sap is reduced to 1/40th of its original volume to make the syrup. These days, the metal bucket is just for the tourists and the bulk of the sap is collected from the trees through a series of tubes which deliver the sap to a central collection tank which then feeds into a huge vat in the sugar shack (on the right). The sap bubbles away, moving through a couple of different vats as it reduces. The reduced syrup is collected in a tank, to be filtered and bottled.


We left with a jug of syrup, a block of maple sugar, and whispy maple cotton candy dreams that will hold me over until next year's sugaring off.

crafty and frugal

A sweater that I really like recently developed a hole. Sad. Typically, I would use the opportunity of a holey sweater as an excuse to buy a new sweater. However, because of recent budget cuts in our household, I can't really justify a shopping trip.

Luckily the hole in the sweater was along a seam, so entirely fixable. Unfortunately sewing a straight seam is really a challenge for me. And the hole, while on the seam had frayed out a bit, so I worried that trying to fix the hole with a straight seam would make the sweater look puckery. Seeing as the hole was on a front shoulder seam, puckery sewing would be noticeable.

While I cannot stitch a straight seam, I am pretty good at embroidery, do I dug out my handy copy of Mary Thomas's Dictionary of Embroidery Stitches. Mostly I look at this book and never do any stitching, but this time I found a lovely decorative stitch and got to work.


Here's how it turned out:


And here's the detail:I must say I am pretty proud of myself both in terms of craft and frugality. Now I just need to learn how to darn socks.

Beautiful

You must go to this link and look at pictures of beautiful sea slugs. They are truly amazing. It always stuns me how much detail and variety and beauty there is in the world and how most of the time it goes unnoticed.

http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2008/06/nudibranchs/doubilet-photography

At the U, Will's research focused on a sea slug from this nudibranch family. It wasn't quite as stunning as these examples, but it was a lovely critter.

do I need to fire my editor?

Since my teaching career isn't going quite the way I'd planned, I have decided to be a freelance writer. Right now, it's just been a bunch of query-writing and sending. And self doubt, endless amounts of self doubt. I have often thought about trying to write for a living, but I have always been terrified of the whole prospect. What if my writing really sucks? What if I am a fraud? What if it's true what they say about teachers? It is only out of desperation and a realization that I have nothing to lose that I have decided to take on this adventure. But still, each time I click send on a query, I am certain that someone is out there laughing at me and pointing.

Despite my terror, things are going fairly well. I've had some positive response. No jobs yet, but I do have several strong leads that should (cross your fingers) work out.

Yesterday, I heard back from the editor of a local food magazine. In her message, she said that I should call her to "blah blah" about some ideas. I was excited about the reply, but thought the "blah blah" comment was a little weird.

Well, today I copied the message to that editor in order to refashion it into a query for another editor. And there, in the message, was this sentence: " I look forward to blah blah" Yes, that's right, those little notes that I make to myself to indicate where I need to add/ clarify? Still there.

I am both mortified and amazed. I mean, the query worked right? So maybe I need to worry less about the laughing and the pointing and just say whatever the hell I feel like. Really, I am the queen of worrying about what I say and whether it annoys, embarrasses, offends, etc. In new contexts, I can hardly speak for the worry.

Perhaps this is a lesson that I just need to get over it. blah blah, baby, blah blah

Proud to be an American

One of my deep, dark secrets is that whenever that Lee Greenwood anthem "Proud to be an American" plays, I cry. Embarrassing, I know, but true. It's a response that started in childhood and I just can't seem to get control over it. The thing about this is that I've never considered myself much of a patriot. In fact, I have often been embarrassed by America. When I lived in London, my favorite activity was American spotting across long distances, only needing a few items of clothing and raucus physical gestures to identify my fellow countrymen.

Well, today, as I watched the inauguration and listened to the Canadian commentary, I feel patriotic and must declare that I am proud to be an American. I haven't always been sold on Obama's campaign of hope (in the early days of the Dems campaign, I gave money to Hillary) but today I am more than glad that we have this new president who genuinely strives to be inclusive, who acknowledges that hope and prosperity require hard work, who can give (as his daughter said) "a pretty good speech."

So here's to a new era of responsibility, integrity, and motivation. Good riddance, old Georgie.

God bless America. And I mean that with every bit of hope I can muster.

I think I'm turning Canadian

I really think so. Last night, I went to the neighborhood bar in order to watch the World Jr. Hockey championship game. I sighed when the Swedish team scored. I cheered when Canada won (for the fifth time!) I drank my beer. I don't watch sports. I certainly don't go to bars to watch sports. And now I'm watching a Jr. world championship? Who even knew there was such a thing?

I got sucked into the competition over the weekend when we went to the same bar to hear a band. During one of their breaks, everyone watched the semi-final game between Canada and Russia. It was an amazing game, with Canada scoring a tie-making point in the last five seconds of regular play. Then a no-scoring overtime and a shoot-out. Canada scored two points to Russia's zero.

After that, I had to watch the final. The gold-medal game was much less interesting. Canada dominated throughout with a final score of 5 to 1. Canada was pretty agressive and their players spent a lot of time in the penalty box. Which led to many Swedish power plays. Will and I were thinking this sounds like some sort of sexual manoeuver. It definitely sounds more exciting than a Canadian power play.

So, I guess I watch hockey now. And not just any hockey, Junior hockey. Winter is long up here in the cold, cold north.

"Are you coming or going?": Liminality in the Lobby

This morning, reading a NYT piece about how NY building owners are fancying up their lobbies to entice new residents, I came across this sentence:


"Not quite public, but not quite private either, the lobby occupies a liminal state in one’s home life, and with that ambiguity comes a set of priorities that can shift and, oftentimes, conflict."


I think I wrote that paper in grad school.