Inside the Sugar House

Booty Family Farm Sugar House

Little House has come full circle. My first post was Mud Season and Robert Frost, and here we are again in mud season and maple sugaring, which proves that time really does fly when you’re having fun! I’m happy to report that it’s not as crazy muddy this year as it was last (knock wood), but the sap is running and the sugar house at Booty Family Farm is steaming.

Last year’s post, Maple Sugaring, took you into the main sugar bush for collecting. This year I’ll take you into the sugar house where the magic happens — sap becomes beautiful amber syrup. It takes a lot of boiling to transform 40 gallons of sap into one gallon of maple syrup X 200 or more.  Ack! Arithmetic! Our maple syrup guru is Stephen Bartlett. Our pancakes thank him.

Trees tapped on Mount Israel Road

Before we go into the sugar house, click here and have a listen. We hung 300 buckets in the main sugar bush two weeks ago. We were enjoying a thaw, and the sap was running. Steve drilled into each maple tree, and when Kirsten tapped in a spile, the sap came squirting out! The sound of sap dripping into empty buckets makes me downright giddy. I couldn’t resist taking a video so my mother (and you) could hear it, too. 🙂

200 more buckets were hung along Mount Israel Road and on the farm. There have been several gatherings since then (900 gallons on one day), and Steve has been boiling morning to night. Fortunately it’s a cold weekend so Steve can get some sleep. (Except for the infernal meowing of a certain farm cat.) It’s 8 degrees at noon as I write this on March 4th. The mild weather promises to be back next week, though, and with it more full buckets to be collected. Now, into the sugar house!

Steve working and Briar supervising!

It’s no secret when sap boiling at Booty Family Farm. The sugar house sends great billows of steam through the vented roof, and the smokestack joins in. The firebox under the evaporator has to be fed constantly to keep the sap bubbling, throwing off moisture as it concentrates into syrup. When the sap is thick enough, Steve releases the syrup and adds more sap to the evaporator. It’s quite a sight, the sap roiling and boiling. Click here to see for yourself.

Evaporator turning sap into syrup

How are all those hours passed in the sugar house? Sometimes farm workers Kirsten or Matt are on hand to spell Steve, and Diane was part of the sugaring operation from the beginning, as has Rachel. (Diane also makes the best, most addictive popcorn in the world!) Robin and Hannah come home for maple steam facials, and neighbors drop by to sit a spell and sample sap tea or nips of syrup in tiny paper cups. Steve has a radio powered by a very long extension cord that snakes across the lane, over my mother’s front yard and in through a window to one of her outlets. (She’s delighted to be making a contribution!) There are a couple of arm chairs that used to grace our dining table and a fancy lamp, perfect for poetry reading…. What?!!!!

Todd, next to the evaporator, reading from Dad’s Robert Frost poetry book

Yes, those of you familiar with Booty Family Farm know that this is a highly cultured organization. A portrait of the Queen of England hangs in the barn, afternoon tea is served daily at Granny’s house, and there is a library of poetry books in the sugar house. A few nights ago Todd and I brought down a chili supper, and Todd read poetry. First was the highly topical Robert Frost poem “Evening in a Sugar Orchard,” then two Robert Service poems, “Each Day a Life” (an extended metaphor comparing waking and sleeping to birth and death), and the poignant “My Dog.” If you’re familiar with Robert Service’s iconic poems from the Yukon, such as “The Cremation of Sam McGee,” you’ll understand why Steve and I expected a macabre twist — a frozen corpse, at least. But not that night.

Steve has been pouring over seed catalogs in his “spare time,” and the main seed order is in. I’m excited for new hot peppers that will make their way into my salsa. And I’m heartened by the change of seasons which order our lives and are a constant source of inspiration, anticipation and hope. We’ll start Spring with our syrup jugs full. What could be sweeter?

Sugar House library (the blue book is The Collected Poems of Robert Frost)