It’s Maple Tapping Time!!!

First, let me say that a little preparation goes a long, long, long way. 

     Last year, we tapped anything that looked remotely like a maple tree.  The result was a funky mapley-tasting syrup that wasn’t half-bad, which made it only half-good.  Who knows what we were pouring onto our pancakes.  To repent of our wayward tapping habit, we went out into the woods last fall and searched for actual maple trees and then marked them with orange tape.  One tree had rows of woodpecker holes at several different heights.  I learned something important from this–if a bird likes it, it’s a good tree.  You wouldn’t believe how much sap flowed from it –it’s amazing!  It’s like a fountain of sugary wonder–my taste buds are crying with happiness as I type this.

     Last year, our spiels drained into open buckets subject to the elements and critters.  This year, we ordered 5 new spiels with hoses.  At first, I was annoyed that Bob wanted to do this.  I’m the cheapest person I know and I saw this as waste since we had 6 perfectly good spiels and our tapping operation was just fine.  I can see now the folly of my ways.  Instead of the sap water brimming with leaves, twigs, floating dead bugs, it is pure.  I should’ve gotten on board with this sooner since I am not a fan of proteins that are not cheese, eggs, chicken, beef or fish.  You guessed it, I’m never going to be that person that relishes the idea of fried grasshoppers or chocolate coated worms.

     So here are some facts for making your own syrup.  Did you know that you can tap trees other than just maple?  You may not get the same taste, but it will still be good.  Some tapping varieties are box elder, walnut, birch, sycamore, poplar and hickory.  However, not all saps are created equal–some may be a tad bitter, some will take more sap to make the same amount you would get from a maple tree and the list goes on. 

     It’s an easy process to tap a tree.  First, it has to be the right time of year.  The best sap flows when temperatures are below freezing at night and warming up to above 40 degrees during the day.  Find a tree that is between 10 and 20 inches in diameter.  Drill a hole about 2 inches into the tree with a drill bit that is the same size as your spiel.  Tap the spiel gently into the tree with a rubber mallet.  Hang your bucket off the spiel and wait for it to fill.  It may take a while.  It probably won’t flow like it did in the Hunger Games—when they drove the spiel into the tree, sap miraculously poured out.  It may take a few days depending on the tree.  Don’t be discouraged that it takes 50 to 60 gallons of sap to make a gallon of syrup–it’s worth it.  Once you have a good amount, put it on the stove and boil it down.  If you have endless amounts of energy (like the heat from a wood stove) or someone else pays your gas/electric/propane bill for your kitchen stove, you’re in luck.  I happen to heat with a wood stove and I’m unapologetic about having the opportunity to make syrup when I can–there has to be some pay off to having to shove wood into that metal monster day and night 5 months of the year. 

     Anyway, once you have your syrup–enjoy.  I put it on pretty much everything–wheat bread dough, cereal, ice cream . . . and today, I drizzled it over my pot roast.  No, there is no such thing as too much maple syrup. 

 

Take care, All.

 

We added our Rain Water Collection book to Amazon recently.  You won’t learn how to tap maple trees here, but it will discuss the ins and outs of rainwater collection.

http://www.amazon.com/Preppers-Guide-Rainwater-Harvesting-Threat-ebook/dp/B00HYR3LGM/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1393471248&sr=8-5&keywords=Hillary+Bergeron

THE PAIN IN MY BUTT

We have bees. Not by choice. My sister bought them before she left for Alaska and just kind of ditched them. So for the past year, we’ve left them alone and they’ve left us alone. A few months ago, some guys from the local bee association came by to check on them and saw that they were in good shape. Honestly, I’d pretty much forgotten about them. After deciding that we shouldn’t let free bees go to waste, we decided to get involved. Since we don’t know the first thing about beekeeping, we bought a book on the subject and contacted a friend who’s an expert. He showed us how to extract honey. A few weeks later, we pulled about a gallon of liquid gold from the hive. We could’ve taken out more gallons, but then nothing would have been left for the bees sustenance through the winter. It’s not a good idea to completely rob them or else you’ll have to provide them sugar water as food, which can’t be as good as their own honey. I would say our first venture in beekeeping was a success. We even attended our first bee meeting ever. Not only was it interesting, they had a potluck buffet to boot–and who never says “no” to good food–this gal, (2 thumbs pointed at myself).

So, back to the pain in the butt thing. One night, I came into my dark living room and decided to sit in my favorite chair. I accidentally sat on a giant wasp. He stung the fire out of my butt, then when I tried to swipe him off, stung my hand. He was huge. Of course I crushed him afterward, even though he was going to die anyway, but I had to exact revenge. I spent most of the night with an icepack alternating between my butt and my hand. When the Benadryl kicked in, I finally had relief. But for the next few weeks, I couldn’t sit without feeling the welt on my hiney and then as the pain went away, the itching started and it lasted for more than a week. I think the offender in question was a Japanese Wasp. They’re known to hang outside beehives and literally eat little honey bees. From what I’ve heard, they can destroy an entire hive. Honestly, I can’t think of a more useless creature and I have a keen remembrance of the pain in my butt to prove it. Life’s always exciting around here . . . I just wish it weren’t so painful.

Take care, All.

P.S. I have my books up on Barnes and Noble site for any Nook fans out there.
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unplugged-hillary-bergeron/1112136489?ean=2940014942355

And as always, Unplugged is available on Amazon. This is the 2nd edition. I went in corrected mistakes in the other addition and added a little more here and there.

Valentine’s Day Chain Saw Massacre and my War on Weeds

Hi everyone,

The weeds around here have a special gene that makes me believe they were created in a lab by a mad scientist or they’ve had some kind of radiation that turns them into super-power weeds.  In one season, the area in and around my garden turns into a gardeners version of hell with weeds that are upwards of 18 feet tall.  In fact, I spend more time weeding my way into the garden then actually attacking the weeds around the vegetables that I plant.  I’ve tried everything–put down old carpeting, plastic, cardboard boxes for pathways and yet the weeds seem to grow right through anything I put down and prevail.  Every year, I don my armor and head out to battle.

Saturday was just such a day.  I was out clearing the weeds around the garden with the chainsaw.  Yep, you heard it right, I was clearing weeds with a chainsaw.  You have to understand that we have these tree sapling type weeds that are about 5 inches in diameter.  They block the sun from entering the garden and put out giant leaves that cast shadows.  My harvests end up being very small because what tomato can compete with that?

So there I was, standing on uneven ground using my chainsaw to cut the tall weeds when it bumped back and grazed my thigh.  Before everyone gets too excited, it really wasn’t that bad.  I’ve had serious injuries before and this was more like I’d tripped on a gravel road and tore the skin off my palm.  Anyway, bottom line, my favorite jeans are ruined and of course I’m hurting from the skin grazing.  I didn’t feel any pain at first, but saw the blood and knew I’d been cut.  So I shut off the chainsaw and hobbled out of the woods.

As I said before, the chainsaw was a Valentine’s Day gift.  It would be ridiculous to blame my husband for my injuries.  I’ve used that chainsaw many times over and never cut myself, but the rule of odds weren’t in my favor on Saturday.  But I do want to bring up the fact, that as an American woman I received a chainsaw for a Valentine’s Day gift?  Really, a chainsaw?  I know I’m lucky to get anything at all.  I’ve heard all the arguments, that Valentine’s Day is really a made-up holiday to get money out of men……blah, blah, blah.  With that I roll my eyes.  I’ve also retorted with, “it’s sad you guys need to be reminded that you have a special someone.  You may choose another day if you’d like, but I do require at least a small token of appreciation.”  For you guys out there, please don’t get your ladies Tupperware, blenders or chainsaws for gifts.  If your lady needs these things, just come home with them randomly and you will get a better response than if you’d given it to them on Valentine’s Day–I promise.  It’s simple—flowers and chocolate.  I’d so like to not associate the skin missing on my thigh with Valentine’s Day (even though I don’t blame my husband-had to throw that disclaimer in there).

Take care, All

Of course I’m going to add a plug for my book–what kind of self-respecting self-publisher would I be without it:  http://www.amazon.com/Unplugged-ebook/dp/B006X7FEDM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1331103079&sr=8-1