I write this on Maine Maple Sunday, when sugar houses across the state welcome visitors to see their operations, and to learn how this natural delicacy is made. I have only recently become aware of just how hyper-local this product is. In much of the world, the real stuff is pretty rare, incredibly expensive, and they get by with the nasty “pancake syrup” which has never even seen a tree.

Maple syrup, and the simple but time consuming process of making it, is yet another gift from the native peoples of northeastern North America. As the days grow longer in late winter, the starch stored in the tree roots is converted into sugar and rises into the tree in the form of liquid sap. It is during that brief period, when the days rise above freezing but before the first buds appear on the branches, that the trees can tapped, and the sweet stuff can be harvested.

I don’t know when my family started producing maple syrup, but it certainly fit in with the general vibe — we sold milk and eggs, raised pigs and chickens for meat, and had a massive garden — why not make maple syrup, as well? These days, around town you may see picturesque galvanized steel buckets hanging off the trees, or the more efficientgravity-fed tube systems among the forests of syrup producers. It takes a lot of sap to make syrup.

In my family we tapped the maple trees of Maplewood Cemetery, hanging gallon milk jugs off the metal taps my dad hammered into the side of the old trees. Collecting them after returning from his day job as a teaching principal, the syrup would be poured into a massive vat to be boiled down in the brick cooker my parents had built in the dooryard. Highly unscientific and nothing like what you would see in a professional sugar house these days. No syrup grading, no consistency, just bottled up when it looked right.

It was absolutely delightful when poured on a stack of the thin pancakes my mom used to make, cooked in butter she churned with the cream from the buckets of cow’s milk brought up every morning and night by my father. Maybe studded with blueberries harvested by the Old Man the previous summer, kept in the freezer for a morning in March. 

If you have never had the privilege of drinking an icy glass of maple sap straight from the tree, I highly recommend it. The taste of maple sap, the smell of the steam billowing across the front of the house as my little brother and I stomped through the melting snow, searching for "signs of spring” — anything that might indicate that winter was truly ending and the world was returning to life — these are forever burned into my memories.

There is no cow these days at Sleepy Hollow, no vat of maple sap boiling away in the dooryard. The chickens and the garden remain, and eggs are still sold from the refrigerator in the barn. The small boy who used to take his favorite teddy bear in a basket as he searched for signs of spring with his older brother is grown, with a little girl of his own. My mom no longer churns butter in the electric butter churn, but she has settled nicely into the role of family matriarch, looking out for her sons and daughters-in-law and grandchildren and she remembers. 

Remembers old ways that were already partially forgotten when she was young. 

My dad’s ashes lie in his own bed in the middle of the garden he loved, his remains adding nutrients to the ramble of perennial plants and flowers that inhabit his spot in the midst of the vegetable beds around it. All benefiting from the tons of cow sh... manure.... my dad spread on the little plot of land in life.

As I write this, snow is falling, but its time is ending. Early spring snow is good for the soil they say, and will not inhibit the crocuses popping up, the forest plants already making their appearance. 

It is maple syrup season, and spring is returning to the land.

Welcoming Ralphie to Sleepy Hollow

While the farm critters are much diminished, the domestic critters are flourishing. In our odd set up, we have upstairs and downstairs animals. The old white golden retriever, Fritz, is solidly a downstairs dog, belonging to my mom. Upstairs live Conrad and Belladonna, though Conrad is happy to jump the gate at the top of the stairs to share the warm fire with Fritz and Grandma’s treats.

Cats are more territorial, and Emma and Lyla are loath to share their space with the cat downstairs, Benjamin. After the untimely loss of Benjamin’s companion, Peter, he has been a bit lonely, and been sneaking upstairs more. My more practical side recognizes that he probably enjoys the never-empty food bowls and destroying the upstairs cat-box more than companionship with the upstairs ladies who hate him.

Anyway, through Don French’s daughter Jen, an unrepentant lover of all furry creatures, little Ralph has just entered the scene. The little white and calico kitten has us all smitten. I warned Ma that he might be stolen by Jack, my youngest son, another unrepentant lover of four legged critters. At this moment, little Ralphie is sitting at Jack’s computer desk, upstairs, chasing the mouse icon across the screen.

Library Happenings

Join the needle work group every Tuesday from 3-5 p.m. Cribbage for Everyone will be held this Thursday, March 26 at 3 p.m. The MahJong group will meet Friday at noon. The AARP will be present this Saturday afternoon for help with tax prep. Contact the library at 207-706-3896 or questions@lincolnvillelibrary.org to set up your appointment. What an amazing resource in our little town.

Clothing Swap at LCS:

The Lincolnville Central School Parent Teacher Organization will hold its biannual clothing swap this coming Thursday, Friday, and Saturday at the Lynx Gymnasium at LCS, 523 Hope Road. This is free and open to the public and a great way to get new clothes for kids that are constantly outgrowing what they wear. Donations of clothes can be dropped off in the bin at the entrance to Walsh Common by March 25. Hours will be from3 to 7 p.m on March 26, 9 to 2 p.m. on March 27, and 9 to 5 p.m. on March 28.

Okay, Lincolnville, a bit of a deep dive into my memories this week. Go look for signs of spring, teddy bear in basket recommended, but not required. Get a quart of maple syrup from a local producer, make a stack of pancakes.

As always, be kind, be welcoming, reach out to a stranger. Contact me at ceobrien246@gmail.com.

Municipal Calendar:

Monday, March 23

Select Board 6 p.m., Town Office

Tuesday, March 24

Library open 3-6 p.m. 208 Main Street

AA Meeting 12:15 p.m., Community Building, 18 Searsmont Road

Wednesday, March 25

Library open 2-5 p.m.

Planning Board, 6 p.m., Town Office

Thursday, March 26

Library open 2-5 p.m. 208 Main Street

AA Beginner’s Meeting, 7 p.m., Lincolnville Historical Society, 33 Beach Road

Friday, March 27

AA Meeting 12:15 p.m., Community Building, 18 Searsmont Road

Library open 9-2 p.m., 208 Main Street

Saturday, March 28

Library open 9-12, 208 Main Street

Sunday, March 29

United Christian Church, 9:30 a.m. Worship and Children’s Church, 18 Searsmont Road

Bayshore Baptist Church, 10 a.m. Sunday School for All Ages, 10:40 a.m. Coffee and Baked Goods, 11:00 a.m. worship, 2648 Atlantic Highway