As I look out my window at the patches of snow, and the big, white, billowy clouds scuttling across the sky, I am reminded again of the weather immediately preceding sugaring when I was growing up. I will conclude my account of what sugaring was like on our farmette today. On a Saturday when sugaring was in full swing, I […]
Even though Western Massachusetts has been thrown back into winter, which doesn’t remind me very much of sugaring weather, I will continue my nostalgic musings about sugaring in my childhood days. We finished washing sap buckets the next day after school. Datt scattered the clean buckets throughout the woods the following day. When we came home that afternoon, Mem said
