A bit off-topic here since the blog is usually for farm and writing related ponderings.

My daughter (just turned 13 yrs old) has decided she wants to play baseball. She practiced all summer with her step-brother (6 months older) and it was discovered that she has a wicked throwing arm and good hand-eye coordination. Erik joked again and again that she should play baseball . . .

So I signed her up this year, and instantly Erik began complaining that she’d fail. The league was putting her into the older division which meant farther to throw and to run.

However, my daughter is much taller than her step-brother who is going on his SECOND year playing baseball, plus she runs every day (he does not). So while both kids will be in the same league (heck, maybe even the same team), my daughter has a good chance at DOING BETTER.

WAit . . . . girls can’t play baseball! They play softball!

Incorrect! Baseball was originally played equally by men and women when it was first created in the 1800’s. Softball was created as a way for everyone to stay in shape and play indoors with shorter bases and a larger ball. When the Major League was created in the mid 1900’s, they banned women from the sport, so they picked up softball as a way to still have fun. Not until the late 1900’s did softball officially become recognized as a competitive sports league, but men AND women both play.

We had ability assessments last week for all players. My daughter had no formal experience, and hadn’t thrown the ball since last fall. She had very little batting experience. She was nervous and shifty. While everyone eagerly partnered up to warm-up, no one would partner up with her.

She stood awkwardly, trying to gather her courage.

When the coaches called everyone out in small groups, the boys (and Dads) were surprised by her solid throwing arm.

I stood tall and proud, feet spread, ready to defy anyone who uttered any word against a girl playing baseball.

A small group of  nerdy-looking dads stood watching her, lamenting about why girls shouldn’t play, “she shows too much emotion. That’s why girls don’t play, they are too emotional. She’s having trouble catching it . . . .”

Looking at these dads I doubted any of them managed to practice much with their own kids. One was lamenting he threw-out his back filling-in a hole at the ball field . . .

I held my tongue as long as I could, choosing my words carefully, “Or maybe what you are seeing has nothing to do with her being a girl, but her being a bit self-conscience because it’s her first year playing . . .”

The dads got quiet, and ushered themselves  a bit further away from me.

The results are coming back today as far as her skill levels and what team she will be on. Erik called last night to double-check her division (we signed her up under the younger division since her birthdate was right on the edge). They commented that she had a great arm on her and was holding her own pretty well.

I think that cheered both my daughter AND Erik up. Both were secretly worried that she’d fail miserably.

Erik’s been taking both kids out to the ball fields to practice, and bought a pitching/catching net for them to practice with. She stands a very good chance to come into this better-skilled than her brother.

Now I just need to help her keep her self-confidence in check . . .

Last week we had some freakishly heavy winds — rolling through at well over 75pmh!

Heavy winds are not uncommon, however, the heaviest ones typically happen in April.

And, while this isn’t actually part of the memoir, this happened months later that same proceeding year.

So, we’ll call this:

“MEMORY MONDAY!”

After we moved into our doublewide house, we ended-up with about a dozen or so rubber maid bins left-over from storage.

Eager to jump right into doing something productive with the land, Erik announced we’d be tapping maple trees. He’d done it as a kid for fun, how hard could it be?

He already knew there were several massive maple trees on the property. We’d collect the sap into the large plastic bins, then cook it down at the end of the season.

We drove to Family, Farm and Home and gathered 12 taps, plus a book on how to make it, “How to Tap My Trees”. We bought plastic tubing to fit over the taps, and ran the lines down into the large plastic bins.

For several weeks, we let them collect sap.

Finally on April 12, 2014 the weather suddenly warmed and Erik knew the season was done (plus the sap would rot). We decided that Saturday to cook it all down into syrup.

Erik had decided to make a massive cooker pan out of a metal barrel cut length-wise. The barrel had a coating on the inside, I was skeptical about that. Erik argued that it would be fine. I argued it’d come-off in the fire! He tried buffing/sanding it out, but this seemed to make the barrel worse.

It was Earen’s 1yr old birthday, and Erik’s Dad suddenly called us up wanting to go out for his birthday. We figured we’d be done cooking syrup by that evening, so we agreed.

We cooked the sap alllll day!

I don’t remember how many gallons of sap we had, maybe 45?

Finally it was getting close, so we kept checking the temperature. It refused to push past 217. It was 6pm and we had to leave. They were forecasting rain later, so Erik took the other barrel half and partially covered the syrup cooker half.

And we loaded-up the fire and left it to cook.

While we were busy eating, our neighbor called to let us know she had our dogs.

Our dogs?

Apparently a freak storm had run through the few hours we were gone and tore everything apart — or at least the dog kennel.

We quickly rushed home, mad that we had left in the first place. We didn’t know what to expect when we got home, but the very least a ruined dog kennel and our syrup dumped-over.

Strangely enough, when we pulled-up the driveway, the first thing we noticed was the FIRE STILL BURNING and the syrup UNTOUCHED.

The wind was still gusting and rain was pelting us in sheets, so we quickly dumped the syrup into a giant stock pot to finish-up inside.

We cooked it to 219 and ran it through filters into mason jars. It tasted pretty good! I had never really had real maple syrup before, but when I tasted this stuff I was amazed!

We ended-up having some major property damage. Our soft-sided round top had been torn out of the ground and tossed into a mangled heavy several yards away. Everything inside either tossed into the neighbor’s field or soaking-wet. Erik’s 1,000lb lawnmower was flipped onto it’s side . . . but the empty plastic 300 gallon water tanks sat un-phased.

The camper had been turned slightly (that’s 12,000 lbs), the dog kennel blown wide open, and the pigeon coop (300+ lbs) had been PICKED-UP and THROWN 75 feet.

My pigeons were loose everywhere.

We managed to flip the cage back-up and drag it back by the dog kennel (or it’s flip over again in the heavy winds) and I called the pigeons down and they happily dove back into the safety of their house.

We were still finding scattered debris many months later.

As for the syrup? Well, despite the filtering, it still ended-up with at least in inch of junk in the bottom. A mix of maple niter, and primer paint from the barrels.

I’m pretty sure the stuff is toxic. I have one jar left of it as proof of our experience. But despite the yucky stuff in the bottoms, we were hooked on maple syrup, and each year continue to improve our craft and make the best syrup possible!

And now it’s crystal clear!

After a short conversation with the neighbor yesterday, I find out a bit more about our property’s history, namely, that a previous owner also made maple syrup from the same trees we now had tapped. I didn’t know it had an owner before the family we bought it from.

More curiously though, is that the guy lives . . . right behind us!

While this might seem great to some, it poses some unique issues. Namely, the guy’s family have been the ones trespassing all over our property, and poaching deer. This is also the same property line where all my “No Trespassing” signs have somehow disappeared.

I can understand a certain loyalty to the land, however, the guy has not owned it in well over 20 years.

There is also a very good chance its HIS dogs running amuck through my property.

While my first instinct with a previous owner is to go knock on their door and glean all the history of our property I can, this one leaves me hesitant. If I go over as a friendly neighbor, I lose any chance of holding them accountable for disrespecting the law and respecting our ownership of the land (I don’t make waves with people I’m on good terms with).

If I continue on current terms of not being happy about trespassing and eventually confronting them about it, I lose all chance of happy relations with previous owners, and any history involved.

Sigh. I might just have to go talk to my other neighbor down the street who also knew the guy and get his thoughts.

For those who have never been in our main woods, let me explain.

Our main wooded chunk is about 30 acres. On two property borders, the woods run-into the woods of our neighbors. Both these sides have the remains of a barbed-wire fence right on the property line. On another end, our woods run into a guy’s over-grown field (with same wire fencing), and the back-end runs into our scrappy, brush property of 10 acres. I have “No Trespassing” signs plastered all over these property lines.

It’s not like we have a random chunk of land stuck on 300 acres of woods. The total wooded area might be 80 back there.

After 4 years, we have finally managed to carve out the access roads going through the front chunk of our woods, and this is how we get to our maple syrup buckets.

Since we are doing syrup, I’m out there pretty much everyday (unless it’s very cold, then the sap does not flow), and since I’m out there the most, I notice EVERYTHING.

Especially if it’s in an area I’m always visiting . . .

Last week I went out to empty buckets, and as soon as I was on the main trail, I saw it straight-off: a massive white line on a small sapling.

Funny, I thought. I KNOW I would have noticed THIS before!

There are other lines marked on trees from previous owners — but these are either spray-painted in blue, or painted-on with thick red paint. When I rubbed this white mark, it felt waxy or oily. Like an oil pastel, or maybe those crayons used in construction. I could tell it was recent, it easily rubbed right-off with my finger.

Weird. How had I not noticed THIS right on my main access road? So I erased it.

I didn’t go back there for a few days thanks to cooking down the sap over the weekend, so when I went back out yesterday (Monday), I stopped the side by side dead on the trail . . . .

There was another white line!

This time, it was on the other side of the trail, but still right smack in front of me where I could see it. It was plastered all over another small sapling, RIGHT NEXT TO MY SAP BUCKET!

There’s NO WAY I could have missed this before! The tree was right at the end of the fork in the trail, and that bucket was one I always made sure to check!

I vigorously rubbed the new mark off, then went to work dumping buckets. Slowly. Lost in random thoughts of who was marking my trees . . .

The kids I knew had NOT been back here. Heck, the kids hadn’t even left the house!

Finally I came-up with a plan.

I would bring a few Taco Bell sauce packets back with me Tuesday afternoon and leave a message on the last tree that had been marked. You know, the ones with the cute little messages on them? Yeah . . .

Obviously whoever is coming back here knows someone is here a lot, the buckets are full of sap, and then the sap disappears, so very clearly someone is back here tending the sap buckets.

I’ll leave a message, and see if I get one back (and hopefully not with a knife stuck through it)!

Back in the early years of farming, men did most of the work. That’s the way it’s been for just about 200 years (previous to that, early American settlers both men AND women had to work newly established farms).

Roll around to the new agricultural boom of micro-farming and now women do all the work.

Back when we first bought the property, and nothing had been developed, plotted out, or planned, we knew one thing: we were going to farm hay. Not that we knew anything about hay — the land we were buying was covered in several hay fields, so it made sense. We also knew that I’d be the one running the farming activities. After all, I was the one home all day.

Fast-forward four years, and now hay is a side issue. The bigger issues being taking care of animals (we now have cows, chickens, more horses, more dogs and barn cats), outside chores (mowing/weed-whacking or snow plowing), trying to clean and organize a tiny house, running the dog breeding business, doing maple syrup (175 taps), building various items, putting-up fencing, improving the land, building paths/roads in the woods, putting-up deer stands, putting-in and maintaining a garden, butchering deer, tanning deer hides.

Erik is making sure I know how to operate the farm entirely by myself. “In case I die,” he says, “you’ll know how to do all this stuff.”

So here is a list of all the things I can do decently well:

-Build a fence/pasture start to finish.

-fertilize a hay field

-attach and operate all farm equipment (except the backhoe)

-general carpentry

-changing the oil on the side by side and tractor

-plowing snow with a tractor

-grading with the tractor

-using a chainsaw, plus installing new chain, adding gear lube and mixing the gas

-splitting wood with an ax into tiny pieces

-building a roaring fire without gasoline

-hunting deer

-gutting deer

-skinning deer

-quartering deer

-turning deer meat into tasty pieces for dinner

-making jerky

-mushroom identifying and hunting

-all yardwork

-horse training (when time allows)

-All aspects of making maple syrup from selecting the right trees to cooking it down and bottling it

-All aspects of hay-making including how to cut for the right sugar content and selecting horse-safe grasses to plant

-Taking apart the plumbing to find a clog

-building a website from ground up

-photo retouching at a master level

-marketing

-writing

-cooking

-sewing (by hand or machine)

-veterinary

-doctor

in addition to housekeeper and nanny.

My main job title? Master problem solver.

My biggest pet peeve is when people ask me “What do you do all day?” It sounds condescending to me.

Better to say “What does a day with you on the farm look like?” Maybe because Erik is always asking me “what did you do all day?” and I can’t pull-up an explanation each time.

So here’s yesterday’s schedule:

5am wake-up

5:15 head out to dog kennel to write

5:35am finally begin to do computer work after feeding and watering the dogs and trying to fix heater (stopped working).

5:40am-6:15am  paw through literary agents online, check e-mail and website info, retouch Nuriel’s head shot photos for her movie audition. Temp drops 10 degrees down to 40 and my hands freeze, so I move inside to the house.

6:20- 6:40am: discuss head shots with Nuriel, nearly finish photos.

6:42-6:55am make Erik breakfast

6:50-7am sit on sofa

7am-7:45am make Earen breakfast, make myself breakfast, research more on which seeds to plant for vegetables, chase child down to get him to eat.

7:45am-9am at some point I did other things, but then got all the animals fed

9am erik tells me I can’t take EAren to his scheduled playdate since the At&T guys are coming.

9:30-11:00am round up child and do whirlwind grocery trip to Meijer with 3/4 yr old in tow.

11:30am begin to put groceries away, Erik comes home.

12pm to 1:30pm: deal with At&T guys, tidy house like crazy, vacuum, put 3/4yr old down for nap and deal with kids home from school (early release day).

2:00-2:30: sit down for quick cup of coffee and a doughnut

2:30pm: run out to empty 54 buckets

2:45pm-5:00pm chops holes into 1in of ice in sap buckets, drain into large container. Chop trees with machete to clear trails.

5:15pm return to house, talk with Erik

5:30pm feed animals, make sure all heaters are working. Put blankets on all 4 horses.

6:15pm drag myself into house to make dinner. Erik announces we are going to Big Boy for dinner (yea, no dishes!)

7:30-9pm clean mess 3/4 yr old left everywhere, tiny bedroom again, fold massive pile of laundry.

9-9:20pm Get 3/4 yr old ready for bed.

9:20-9:35pm clean bathroom kids were told to clean and only half-assed it (we had company scheduled the next day).

9:40-10:00pm: empty dishwasher, sweep floor, tidy kitchen

10:00-10:10pm watch Erik watch YouTube videos on newly installed internet, and complain that I’d really like to sleep (computer is in bedroom).

10:10pm opt to sleep on futon in other room due to noisy/bright YouTube videos of dumb stuff.

5:00am wake-up . . . .  cycle repeats, but with different activities. Day, after day, after day, after day.

No days off, no vacation time, no sick days (if I’m sick I still have chores to do that no one else will do)

Ok, so I couldn’t think of any better title, so forgive me for the bluntness!

Having began this business of trying to get published several months ago (after spending an entire year writing a book and editing another), I’m realizing a few things.

1.) Everyone is a writer. There are way too many people out there putting their pen to paper and drafting out a story, then trying to get it published.

2.) Due to large volumes of bad writers trying to get published, those that DO write well often are buried in the slush and stand a good chance of never seeing publication.

Now, by no means am I claiming my writing is “top-of-the-line”, or that it “sucks”, but I’m merely making an observation.

Writing is, unfortunately, just like painting — everyone wants to give it a “go” for fun. The only difference? Most people who paint a picture don’t run around trying to find a buyer for their work!

No, with writing, as soon as someone completes a book, they automatically assume that they have accomplished the impossible, and therefore the book MUST get published. It’s good . . . no, it’s EXCELLENT! Everyone will LOVE IT!

The problem is, they AREN’T a “writer” — they just write. If you are serious about being a writer, you crank out the long hours . . . wake up before the crack of dawn or stay up all night in a feverish attempt to RE-DRAFT that book you spent a year on. You constantly push to make it better and better and better.

Having been on enough writing website forums where people post their work for review, I’ve seen a lot of slush! You can instantly pick-out those that are not serious. First, their writing sucks (sorry). Second, when you offer helpful tips or ideas, they bite your head-off (it IS a forum for reviewing stuff . . . that’s why you post your writing . . .)! Others though, thank you kindly for your suggestions and re-visit their work to see how they can IMPROVE it.

Funny thing though . . . most writers DO SUCK. Even the good ones! Most published authors once sucked at some point in their writing career. However, through hard work, a million re-drafts, and sheer determination they were able to improve their writing to the point of being fantastic.

Here’s the problem . . .

How do you know if you will always suck, or just at the beginning? This is a tricky question. I’d like to say that endless hours of hard work eventually pay off. I’d like to say that by throwing everything you’ve got at your writing that you WILL become an accomplished writer.

Unfortunately, like many things in life, this one is a gamble. Much like any great idea or endeavor, it’s a risk you take to fail violently.

It’s the stories of success that propel you forward. Dr. Suess (famous children’s book author) failed repeatedly to get published. He wanted to do comic strips, but the newspapers thought he was too “off-the-wall”. When he tried repeatedly to publish his children’s book, it wasn’t until he basically lied to the publisher that he was finally published. His college buddy had just graduated with a doctorate’s and wrote the letter for him (hence the name Dr. Suess).

Stephanie Meyer also nearly failed. Her first YA book was nearly a flop, and publishers were leery about another go-around. The Twilight Series was born.

J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter Series) was living on welfare and an unemployed mother. With hardly enough to live on, she managed to garner interest in her first Harry Potty book. It was enjoyed so much that an entire series was created. Today, Rowling is the most accomplished children’s book author currently living.

As fantastic as this all seems, writing a good book and going-on to become accomplished is a bit like winning the lottery. Sure, others have done it, but how many millions buy tickets and don’t ever win a dime? Some buy tickets and win pocket change, but most don’t even get that.

However, with writing you hold the odds to be in your own favor. YOU control how good (or bad) your writing is, and YOU control who to submit it to. It’s not a total shot in the dark (although it feels that way).

And, while it seems to be taking MUCH LONGER than expected to get either book published, my picture book has only been submitted to 10 agents . . . out of nearly 100 that will consider Picture Books.

My Memoir, on the other hand, has been submitted to roughly 6, but this one I’m CHOOSING to re-edit (complete hacking job) to try to make it better, so I’m holding-off submitting it for a while. There are a few hundred agents that will consider memoirs!

I’m all set to dive into my newest book (fiction), but am trying to hold myself back. I don’t want/need THREE projects cluttering up my already crazy life. So I’m pushing the other two pretty hard.

A great writing can make ANYTHING BORING sound amazing. That’s where I AM at. Trying to make my Memoir amazing. Something so everyday but extraordinary.

Besides, I don’t want to look back on my Memoir in 3 years and say “man that writing is TERRIBLE! Why didn’t I pause to improve it?”

An aside here,

I just checked my book submission tracking website, and it APPEARS that my picture book is being considered! Ok, I KNOW it’s being considered, because it’s not in yesterday’s “reject” pile.

Without confusing you too much about how the web program works, let me explain that agents who LIKE a submission, typically set it aside to talk over with other agents at their company. Like a second opinion. Right now, my picture book is in the stack of “possibilities”!

While this could still mean a big fat “No Thanks” in a few days/weeks, it’s at least a bit of hope in this dreary process of trying to make it in the world of writing.

Pray that it finds a home with the right people!

The one thing about being sick, is that you move . . . so . . . much . . . slower . . .

And that doesn’t work around here.

So yesterday, after waiting an hour for the internet guys to show, only to find out they had the wrong info and couldn’t hook us up yet, I finally managed to get back into the woods around 2:30. I had already moved all 3 of our 275 gallon containers back there, now I just had to finish placing buckets at trees.

It was windy, and cold and 12*, but I was wrapped-up pretty good so it didn’t bother me. But my cold virus finally caught up with me! After I had whipped out 20 buckets and found each a tree home, it hit me hard.

I was whooped. I tried to will myself to keep going, maybe even finish that road. But I couldn’t move another inch, and collapsed onto the road behind the side by side, half asleep.

I had been working enough that my excess body heat was keeping me nice and warm, but not so much that I was sweating. I lay there, half asleep, trying to convince myself to get up and go back to work, but my mind kept getting distracted by various dreams popping-up.

I don’t know how long I slept as my phone doesn’t work in cold weather, even inside my jacket, but judging by the sun it was nearing 4pm. I probably would have rolled over and slept longer had I not heard a suspicious creaking noise.

I cracked an eye open and glanced at the side by side. I hadn’t put the emergency brake on . . . it was sitting on a slight hill . . . and I was laying directly behind it!

I decided it might be in my best interest to get up! Besides, if it was 4pm, I still had to get home, take some Vitamin C, have some coffee and get back out to feed the animals and make dinner!

But alas, sap will begin to flow this weekend, and I don’t have any trees tapped, nor my buckets all placed! I’m kinda stuck on this one . . . today HAD to be tapping day as Saturday we are running to the Maple Warehouse (yea!), and I KINDA wanted to go see the PBR rodeo too (sigh. probably will be working instead).

Maybe I should tap the buckets that are currently out, so that way SOMETHING can be collecting!

• Why couldn’t I have gotten sick NEXT week, AFTER I tapped everything??

Yikes! It’s a mere 12 degrees out and I’m wishing I can avoid working outside, but alas I’m on a tight schedule, no rest for the weary . . . or the sick!

Yesterday I began setting buckets out. Well, almost. I had to pry the stacks apart, which often proved fruitless in my attempts. Somehow they manage to suction tightly to each other and you can’t pull them apart.

However, I’ve found that slamming them against trees often breaks suction enough to allow you to pull them apart.

The animals and neighbors all hate me now since I’ve cleared every living thing out of the woods with my racket (only 120 more to go).

But as I stood there whacking buckets, I noticed an array of large footprints. I’m pretty good at tracking animals, and deciphering foot prints, but these had me concerned.  Too large to be coyote. Cougar? Wolf? Luckily I still had a game camera out nearby, maybe it had caught whatever was going after the deer!

I brought it home and popped the card into my laptop, and after scrolling through a zillion videos of deer, I happened upon a very curious one. Dogs. Two, large dogs, running about, chasing the deer . . . during hunting season!

I, however, was not surprised. I’d been getting these dogs on cam during hunting season every year since we’ve lived here. These dogs have run all the way to the FRONT of our property, and I suspect they were the ones that killed and ran away with half my chickens last summer. Not cool. The day it happened was the day I got them on cam running by.

These are the same neighbors that we also got on cam last spring, wandering the woods looking for morels. Also not cool.

I understand dogs like to wander, and I understand they can escape. I can vouch for that since ours have done it too. However, you’d better believe I’m out chasing them down. And you also better believe that I’m going to ensure they are better contained! We’ve even gotten to the point of installing major fencing for them.

Its curtesy to ensure your animals stay contained and don’t cause trouble. I don’t think these neighbors would be too happy if my horses continually got out, and ran over to their property and ate all their flowers and pooped on their lawn.

Might be time to put some live traps out. Judging by the amount of footprints they have been out ALOT. Also time to write the neighbor a note! They know we’re here, I’ve got “No Trespassing” signs plastered over that whole fence line along with my phone number.

I honestly don’t know why they’d want to push their luck with us . . . we have a legal driveway that runs right through their property . . . Erik keeps wanting to have it developed, but I keep telling him it wouldn’t be nice for the neighbors. I don’t even know if they realize their property is sitting on our driveway . . . even though it’s been there for well over 30 years.

I’m sure a simple note will resolve things peacefully. And if not, well, I’ve got a whole array of game cameras waiting to be re-loaded with batteries!

This is one of those “written in advance” type of blog posts. My laptop once again sucked out all my data and I’m left with nothing but restaurant wi-fi, so to save time I have to write these off wi-fi.

ON a side note, we are apparently getting home internet. This means no more drained date. It also means Erik is dumping the smart phones, so no more looking up mushrooms while in the woods, playing Pandora radio, or GPS maps while driving. Bummer.

Soooooooo . . . . this brings me to my post. Maple Syrup!

“Wait . . .  it’s just barely February! Maple Syrup season is March!”

Yes, you are correct. But you gotta go by the weather, and the weather is predicted both on TV and my phone to be on a continued warming trend. This is both bad and good. Bad, because if the warming trend breaks and it gets too cold, the spouts will freeze which can crack the spout holes, causing leaking. Leaking means less into your bucket. It also means the hole will close faster because now bacteria is getting in around the tap.

Good, because this may be a VERY long maple syrup season if it continues into April (like it does every year. Usually done by April 12, Earen’s Birthday).

There’s just one MAJOR problem . . . .

I’m in NO way ready!

I had been pretty proud of myself for getting things prepped so soon. I was already stacking up wood. I was making plans to begin running the 150 buckets down into the woods and set them out in stacks of 10. I was going to drive the 300 gallon tanks back with the tractor when it was nice and cold so the tractor didn’t sink into the muddy road.

I was going to do test boils on the cooker to make sure we are running at peak levels.

I still have to scrub the tube that runs into the cooker unit.

I still have to re-insulate the door on the fire arch.

We still need to make a trip to the Maple warehouse to buy our supplies.

In other words, my stress level has gone from 5 to 9, working-up to 10!

I will still be at Kelly’s Restaurant today, my favorite coffee place because it’s relaxing and people bring me coffee non-stop. But most likely just long enough to slam out some internet work, then get other stuff done.

 I’m pretty much going to be glued to the back woods the next few weeks. It takes me 1-2 weeks to get all 150 buckets out and tapped. This year will hopefully be better because 1.) we have a 4 wheel drive side-by-side 2.) it can hold a larger, 100 gallon tank (instead of a 30 gallon one) and 3.) we are tapping nearly all black and sugar maples which are on solid ground, NOT marsh woods.

It has begun!