When Chris and Cliff set up the sap collection system last week Ken and I didn’t give much thought to what we would do when–well, if–the barrels actually filled up. (What is the dripping rate of sap, anyway?) Just before we left for Boston last Tuesday for various business and events, and the 22 Dexter closing, we decided to take a peek. Naïve as we were, we didn’t expect much, but, wow, both 30-gallon barrels were nearly full of sap. (Now we know. It drips like mad, especially on warm afternoons after cold nights.) Unable to lug the barrels uphill, much less deal with evaporating 40% of nearly sixty gallons, we just left them, and Ken pulled most of the taps, figuring that was that. Nice try, but there's nowhere to go from here, right?
Wrong. While we were away Chris and Lesley managed somehow to get the sap to our sugarhouse. Sap can go bad after 48 hours, but it had been cold enough that ice formed on the surface of the barrel, so spoilage wasn't a problem. They built a fire in the sugarhouse firepit, fashioned an evaporator out of some metal roofing pieces in our shed, and with some big pots they boiled away most of Sunday. From what I heard it was great fun. There's nothing much to do most of the time, besides keeping an eye on the boiling, adding sap, adding wood, subtracting syrup, so there was lots of time to do other fun things like organizing our shed, carrying up our two canoes from their house down the hill, and such. By the end of the day they had one gallon of amber syrup. I tasted it this morning for breakfast and it was amazingly fine. Chris is really into this and plans another sap boil for this Sunday. I am amazed.
About the bear: It was the grandchildren who discovered it. It lay curled up at the edge of our creek in a wooded area, just barely out of the water's reach, and looking from the rear more like a rock than an animal. Harry had been wandering not far from away but never picked up a scent. The bear is small overall, probably an adolescent. The head isn't big but sports a formidable and grownup-looking set of teeth. One large paw is clearly visible although it’s hard to figure out the body size overall. It’s possible that some parts of the bear may be missing (we don't want to think about how or why), but we couldn’t learn much more without a lot of poking around. Lesley had already called the game warden–what you do is call the State Police when you find, or accidentally kill, a large animal, and they notify the fish and game people–so a game warden came out here Monday when we weren’t home, left a card and a phone message. The guy thought he was supposed to be looking for a dead deer and he didn't know where the deer (bear) was, so we’re certain he never found the bear. We sincerely hope he'll be back.
Downstream from the bear the children found a tag saying “Maine big game” with a name and a license number. We don’t know if this is connected to the dead bear or just coincidence. The bear could have been shot (although he shouldn’t have been because he’s too small), or may have died of some other cause. I would like to know.
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Our porch will be 8 feet wide in front and 10 or 12 feet wide in the screened section around the corner. Architects Leah and Chris have been discussing this for a while (dubbed “The Battle of the Titans” by Cliff) and have come to what appears to be a solution to the 8 versus 10 foot width question. It's both an aesthetic issue and a practical issue. The answer seems to be a hip roof over the screened section to keep the roofline in the same plane. We’re happy. Work begins in two weeks.
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Crocuses are out, and daffodils are poking up. We hear bluebirds singing the woods. Geese pass by daily flying north. Migrating snow geese are gathering at Dead Creek. It’s supposed to snow 6-12” on Friday.
