With all the warmth this Winter has seen up until last week, we’ve been wondering about the upcoming sugaring season, expecting it to suck. We still have about a gallon of last year’s syrup left so I know we’ll be fine, but still. I like making it every year.

Ok, here’s where I pause, look back at what I wrote and feel guilty about any stretches of the truth. Seeing that last statement, “I like making it every year,” I need to admit to, not only a stretching of the truth, but the fact that I big, fat lied. I mean, I didn’t lie about the, “I like” part, but I lied about insinuating that I am the one making it. You see…usually, Keith taps the trees, and boils it down. Sometimes I carry the buckets. That is all.

So how is it, then, that I can say, “We make maple syrup?” (emphasis on the “We.” Hence the italics.) I’m sort of taking credit for all his efforts, aren’t I? I don’t know. Keith also says, “We made dinner” when he cooks the chicken and the rice and I do the salad. Why doesn’t he just take account for just his part by saying, “I made 2/3 of dinner?”

Team work, baby. It is our cozy house, our crazy dog, our cuddly cats (except for Betty. She is just a psycho bitch-cat who is possessed by the devil and is hell bent on making sure we do not sleep.) I’ve commented before in here, and in edible South Shore that we seem to be growing closer as a couple as we start this little homestead. Chores aren’t necessarily a bad thing. (DO NOT tell my mother I said that.) Doing them with someone you love makes the work go by that much faster. Enjoying the sweet spoils (over belgian waffles!) makes it all worthwhile.

I’ll carry all the sap buckets this year, honey. I promise.

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