First, I placed taps in three trees (after asking guidance and permission for which trees to tap, of course).

Then I hung the “sap saks” from the spiles.  And waited for the sap to start flowing.

I knew I was a bit late in the season to be starting this process and I wondered if I would get any sap at all when it did not start flowing within a day . . .  or two . . .   or three or . . . .   Finally, the sap began dripping from the taps.

First one tree would flow, then another.

There was so little sap available at any one time, that I chose to freeze it in a large pot so it would not spoil before I had enough to work with.

I watched the weather forecasts hoping to get enough sap to be able to boil down for syrup.  When the weather turned warmer and it didn’t look like there would be much change back to nights of below freezing temperatures, I decided to start the boiling process.  From my research, I had learned the sap to syrup ratio is 40 to 1.  That means the approximately one gallon of sap I gathered would possibly make about 1/4 cup of syrup.  I wanted to try this anyway and discover what red maple syrup would taste like.

I had purchased a commercial grade hot plate so I could boil the sap outside.  Apparently the moisture from boiling was sticky and would coat everything in the kitchen if I boiled the sap there.  I didn’t want to create an outdoor wood fire arrangement and I didn’t want to use oodles of propane, so I chose to purchase the electric hot plate.  This worked out quite well.  These photos show the status of the sap from when I first started boiling (there’s still some frozen sap in the mix) through the hours until there was a little sap left in the pan.

8:13 am

8:57 am

9:29 am

10:37 am

12:40 pm

1:23 pm

At this point, I switched to a smaller pan and monitored the level closely.

1:25 pm

1:49 pm

When it looked like about a quarter cup of syrup remained, I strained it through cheesecloth.

1:51 pm

Here’s the finished product.  Red maple syrup definitely tastes different from sugar maple syrup.  I like the flavor and have kept the uncovered cup in the refrigerator.

Over the subsequent weeks, I occasionally scoop up a small spoonful and taste it again.  I’m savoring it this way rather than using it quickly on a couple batches of pancakes.  Lately I’ve noticed the syrup has thickened considerably — probably from losing moisture in the refrigerator — and it even has some sugar crystals at the bottom of the cup.  The hard sugar reminds me of a childhood experience — eating a large piece of candy shaped like a sugar maple leaf which consisted solely of sugar maple syrup boiled further to make maple sugar.

Next year I plan to have more taps and start a bit earlier in the season.  The weather is so tricky that it’s truly a gamble as to whether the sap will flow sufficiently before the trees start to bud (which reportedly makes for an “off” flavor).   I’m hopeful.

The next thing I tried was a simple fan-type trellis (plastic) purchased from a local box store.  I even tried two of them — leaning against each other at the top and tied together to make a stronger structure.  That did not work either as the wind repeatedly blew the trellises down (and the vines).

Now I’ve come up with a system I believe will withstand those gusty winds.  I used 1/2″ PVC pipe to make two diagonal hoops.  The PVC is screwed to four T-posts sunk into the ground.  The two hoops are also screwed together at the top.  I let this arrangement stand (with the older double-fan-shaped trellis leaning inside it) for the latest wind storms.  It held up great.

Today, the sun was out and the temperature was high enough for me to paint the white PVC a lovely brown color.  Then I used some Mountain laurel limbs to create interesting supports within the overall trellis shape.  (I’ve noticed that Mountain laurel does not decompose very fast at all.  And these limbs can be easily replaced in the future.)  Lastly, I arranged the two Coral honeysuckle vines on their supports and tied them in place with stretchy tree tie tape.

I’m enjoying how this turned out and am looking forward to the vines filling out and blooming on their new supports.

I’ve always appreciated the white pine tree.  I love its overall growth habit, the hint of blue in its green needles, how it moves in a breeze, and how calm I feel when I sit beneath it.  After asking permission of a number of different white pines, I gathered some pine needles.  Then I found a few trees with small bits of pine resin on their bark.

I was able to gather some of the resin — including the small protruding bit of white visible on the right in this image.  There was less than one teaspoon’s worth which I was able to harvest.  I proceeded to make the smallest batch of pine salve imaginable.  And yet, it was enough to fill this small container.

Now I have even more reasons to love the white pine and be thankful for its blessings.

After studying the situation and thinking about it for months, today became “the day to cut down the black locust.”  In mid-summer, I had seen a yellow jacket nest in the ground near the trunk of this tree so I knew I wanted to wait until the cold weather had arrived before attempting to cut the tree.  We’ve had some bitter cold days and today’s weather provided a warm reprieve with the temperature rising into the sixties and a partly cloudy sky.

I set up the ladder (to remove some lower limbs) and the chain saw.  Next, I opened a “four-point coning” (as explained by Machaelle Small Wright).  First, I asked assistance with removing a large limb — wanting it to fall in between some planted shrubs and avoiding a recently planted yellowwood tree.  I made the cut and the limb fell perfectly — removing one tiny twig from the yellowwood.

Next, I asked the coning team to help with making the best notch cut on the tree as well as with the direction the tree was to fall.  As a novice tree cutter, I was unsure of my ability to make an accurate notch cut.  I successfully cut the notch, checked what looked like the direction the tree would drop, and made the final cut.  The entire tree fell in exactly the right direction!  No other planted shrubs or trees were harmed at all.  Thanks, team!

After recent bitter cold and gray cloudy days, today the cloud cover began breaking up.  I took advantage of the warmer temperature and journeyed out to the vegetable garden beds.  I weeded a few and it felt great to have my hands in the dirt — even if it was cold dirt.

Next I visited the bed of Sunchokes (aka Jerusalem artichokes, scientific name of Helianthus tuberosus).  Last year a friend gave me a chunk of Sunchokes with dried stalks sticking up.  I had broken the clump apart and planted the pieces in the ground — not knowing what to expect from this experiment as I’ve never grown them before.

This past spring leaves sprouted and then the stalks grew and grew and grew until they were over eight feet tall.  And they bloomed with incredible “sun” flowers.

Somewhere I read that it was best to let the first year’s growth of Sunchokes be and not harvest them until the second and subsequent years (kind of like asparagus).  Well, here I was today with dried eight-foot (plus) tall stalks leaning every which way from the latest wind storm.  I decided to break them off near the ground and “tidy up” the bed a bit.  To my surprise, when I attempted to break off the first stalk, it came up from the ground instead and brought with it a group of very large and beautiful Sunchokes.

I re-planted one of the Sunchoke tubers and felt ever so grateful for the unexpected harvest of a large handful of Sunchokes.  Since I wasn’t sure of the “best” way to prepare them, I sliced them thinly, ate a few raw (nice crunch and mild taste) and cooked the remainder in a bit of olive oil with some salt thrown in.  The cooked Sunchokes were delicious as this softened them nicely and brought out some of their sugars.  I ate them all before I thought to take a photo of them.  Next time I’ll take some photos first . . .

I found some incredible patches of fresh Common chickweed and celebrated by making chickweed pesto.  The pesto is a blend of olive oil, garlic, sunflower seeds and parmesan cheese — with the chickweed.  Mmmmm . . .

. . . sage . . .

. . . rosemary . . .

. . . and thyme . . .

I carefully dried each herb, then used a suribachi set (a Japanese mortar and pestle) to grind them into smaller pieces or a powder.  Some of the herbs dried faster than others.  So I was able to easily space out the grinding process over different days.

Next, I pulled out some dulse (seaweed) I had in the pantry.  Then toasted the sesame seeds.  Here’s everything in the bowl — ready to be mixed.

Lastly, I mixed all the ingredients together for a taste test.  Wow!  This is so delicious.  The dulse adds just the right amount of “saltiness” to the blend.  And the freshly toasted sesame seeds warmed up the herb sprinkles.  What a delightful taste treat.

I now sprinkle this on everything I can think of when cooking.  And I even eat it “out of hand” sometimes.

Yesterday I witnessed two other miracles.  First was a bluebird darting around and singing.  I thought all the bluebirds had already left for the winter as we’ve already had some cold days.

Secondly, I saw a monarch butterfly (with fresh wings) seeking nourishment from the last few blooms on the butterfly bush.  I had just been reading a lovely post about the monarch butterflies (and the related links in that post to some detailed photos of the monarch’s life cycle).  Surely all the monarchs were already on their way to their wintering grounds.  And yet, here it was — just like the bluebird — gracing me with its beauty.

It tastes marvelous.  There’s not even a “taste” of green to it.  Just the right amount of sweetness, nuttiness and knowing that I’ve done something really good for myself.

Common chickweed

I’ve been enjoying some fresh salad greens for a couple months — despite the cold wintery weather.  Gradually I am learning which “weeds” are actually edible in a salad.  So . . . with the addition of chickweed, sheep sorrel, bittercress, plantain and oxeye daisy leaves, I’ve had some really great salads.  I added these wild greens to the bits of bok choy, arugula, lemon balm, garlic chives and carrots I’ve scrounged from the winter garden.  Granted, most everything is pretty small right now and I selectively harvest from the wild edibles because I want the plants to flourish later this spring and summer.

There’s no photo of these delicious salads because every time I’ve thought about taking a photo . . . I’ve already eaten the salad!