Whitesburg KY

Making maple syrup

I really enjoyed the article in The Mountain Eagle about making maple syrup. Can you imagine having to do that just to get a little something special to enhance whatever graced the breakfast table?

There is nothing quite as light and tasty as maple syrup — homemade maple syrup, that is.

I have never made maple syrup myself, but we have some very good friends who live in Wisconsin, and they sent some by mail a couple of years ago. Since I am diabetic, I could only sample it very carefully. But as I said, it is delicious.

Out there, making maple syrup is a yearly thing. We haven’t heard how things are going this year, but they sure have had a rough winter, and measure their snowfall in feet — not inches as we do. They wrote that going up the walk to their house was like climbing a ladder without anything to hold on to, so I guess it must have been pretty slick.

Most of our maple trees of any size have been cut for lumber, and it makes beautiful furniture, as well as gunstocks and other items. Black walnut and cedar also make pretty furniture, but both are brittle and break rather easily.

Many years ago, when sugar and other items were rationed, I daresay there were many maple trees tapped to make a substitute for the rationed sugar. A good many things were simply done without. I have a few of those old ration stamps, but God only knows where they are now.

Speaking of rationing, we think gasoline is high here at home. When I left France, gas was $ 2.74 a gallon there, and I can only imagine the price it is now. It was rationed for all military personnel at that time, also.

No matter how bad things get, they could also be worse.

I’ll leave you with a little ditty: A salesman was way out in the boondocks, and it was almost dark. He stopped at a farmhouse and inquired if he might stay the night there.

The farmer said they didn’t have an extra bed, but he could sleep with the baby or in the barn loft. He knew if he slept with the baby he would get wet, so he slept in the barn loft, in the hay.

The next morning they woke him up and said that breakfast was ready. He went inside to wash, and there sat a pretty young lady at the table.

He asked who she was, and they told him she was the baby. She asked who he was, and he replied, “I am the fool who slept in the barn loft.”

That’s all from the funny farm until next time.

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