Good times up North

This month found all the Galloways gathered in one place for four all-too-brief days -- a great rarity in these times. 

It happened over the course of nearly three weeks, with Jack and Kasia flying in from Berlin and spending the week with Mary and Brian in Red Hook, Brooklyn. Ed and I drove in for the weekend to celebrate the marriage of Jack's college roommate, Matt, to Mallory, at a beautiful waterside venue tucked under the Manhattan Bridge.
 

Early on Monday morning, Jack and Kasia drove with us to Montreal, where we wandered around Jack's alma mater, McGill University, and later met up with college friend, Lesya. 

From there, we made our way to one of our all-time favorite places: Arowhon Pines, in Ontario's Algonquin Park. 

In the meantime, Mary and Brian dropped off their dogs with Brian's parents in Long Island and began driving west toward us; while Maggie and Nate loaded up their kids and began driving north.

On Wednesday afternoon, we gathered under the tall pines on Little Joe lake, grateful that we could all be together and cognizant of the efforts that we all made to make it happen.

The days together flew by with lovely meals, pickleball matches, saunas – followed by lake swims, early-morning canoe fishing, late-afternoon cocktails and late-night stargazing. 

On Saturday, Mary and Brian headed back home, Nate headed back to work via a bus from Huntsville to the Toronto airport and the rest of the gang continued on to a very remote, very rustic, off-grid cabin for three days of Galloway-style relaxation (i.e., fishing, canoeing and eating). 

Then it was home to Farm Dover. Two days later, Kasia flew back to Berlin; Jack leaves next weekend.

So that we might remember these precious good times together, here is a selection of photos that tell the story far better than any words I can write. 

Brooklyn

Kasia's first time to New York City.

Walking around DUMBO

Before dinner at Saint Julivert

The McGill contingent

Two of my three

Mary and Brian

Arowhon Pines

Just hanging out 

A grand birthday celebration

Pre-sauna

Post-sauna

A tentative "thumbs up"

On the dock

My three

Mamma and son

The Pinney family

Hazel's first canoe trip

Waiting patiently to shove off

Meanwhile, Norbert shares his lunch with Deed

A little girl time

Watching hummingbirds on the veranda

Just thinking of jumping in

Even Bee swam

Off-grid cabin

Hazel gets a marshmallow-roasting lesson

Norbert wore out

Early morning fishing from the dock

Dinner by propane light

Nothing fancy, but fun

There's no telling when we could again pull off a family vacation. But for this one, I am grateful.

A Season of Celebrations

Spring was rather slow coming to Farm Dover this year -- but, without a doubt, it is here now in full force.

In less than a week, our woodland glades have gone from a soft carpet of lush green maché, violets, chickweed and ground ivy to a knee-level tangle of tiny white wildflowers, mayapples and cleavers that love to stick to my overalls. Every tree but the walnuts has issued its buds and new leaves, casting dappled sun down to the forest floor.

A pair of Red-bellied Woodpeckers has taken up residence in the top of an old ash tree towering just above my Girl Cave. From my garden, I can hear the lovers calling with a series of hard-to-describe drills, churrs, chatters and screeches. I'm guessing that their cavity already holds a clutch of baby woodpeckers as the parent birds are constantly darting out for tasty bugs, seeds and fruits to take back to their young ones.

The Baltimore Orioles are back at our orange feeders and dipping their beaks in a hanging jar of grape jelly. The male, one of the most brilliantly colored songbirds, is hard to miss with his flaming orange and black feathers. The female is smaller and mostly olive colored. They provide great entertainment for us as we watch them from our study window.

The daffodils have come and (mostly) gone. The viburnum continue to bloom – sending wafts of spicy-sweet perfume into the air – and the peonies are just about to burst open. Yes, spring is definitely here and we are definitely rejoicing in its arrival.

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As part of our Spring rejoicing, we celebrated Easter on two consecutive weekends -- one here at Farm Dover with an egg hunt with Hazel and Norbert; and one in Brooklyn, with Mary and Brian. 

While in New York, we got to meet our newest granddog: Rita, a rescued galgo (Spanish Greyhound). She joins Saltie (also a rescue) as the most popular citizens of Red Hook (Mary and Brian's neighborhood). They are two lucky dogs. 

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And more celebrations...

Spring also brings a plethora of birthdays in our family: two daughters, two sisters, two nieces, two friends -- so lots of jubilation fills our lives.

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Some sadness too...

Friends are sick and struggling. The war in Ukraine wages on. We worry about the climate and future life here on earth. I miss my friend, Karen... But we are reminded that every day is a gift and we must rejoice and be glad in it. We are trying.

A Sweet Surprise

Life on Farm Dover continues to amaze me, even after nearly a dozen years of living here. There is always something happening in the gardens, fields or woods that fascinates me. This past week it was the startling discovery that we could tap our black walnut trees (of which we have plenty) for sap, that could then be boiled down to a most-delicious sweet syrup. 

If you read this blog with any regularity, you know that I love to forage for wild foods and, while I never claim that I can feed us on them exclusively, I do appreciate knowing that I can walk out the back door with a bucket and come home most days with ingredients for a very local, very fresh dinner. The addition of syrup has added a whole new basic taste (sweet) that I can cook with, adding panache to pancakes and waffles, oatmeal and sweet salad dressings. Yes, I know honey, fruits and berries are also sweet, but not like this syrup: complex and butterscotchy.

It all started with reading a blog entry from Practical Self Reliance covering 27 trees to tap for syrup. I was amazed that all kinds of hardwood trees could be tapped. The more I learn about trees, the more in awe I am of them. 

I suppose I always knew that sap flows through sapwood, part of the outer tree trunk, delivering water, sugars, and nutrients throughout the tree. But I'm not sure I understood that sap production actually begins in warm summer months when photosynthesis creates carbohydrates that get stored in the tree as starch. It then gets converted to sugar that dissolves into the sap, which is stored for the winter. Beginning in late winter, the weather provides just the right conditions (alternating freeze/thaw cycles) to produce sap that can be collected to make syrup.  

With some quick Googles, we were on a roll, figuring out how to harvest about 8 quarts of sap, resulting in one, very precious, bottle of syrup. 

Because we didn't have any tapping supplies on hand, we made do. I carved spigots (also called spiles) from elder and sumac trees, hollowing them out with metal prods. 

Ed drilled a hole in the first tree, on the south side to take advantage of the warming sun and hung a metal bucket from a notch carved in the spile. 

And as we turned to go to the next tree, we heard: drip. drip. drop. The sap was starting to flow and the bucket filled up in just a few hours. Back at the house, we poured ourselves a glass of the sap, which is sometimes taken as a spring tonic. It was cold and fresh, and only slightly sweet. It tasted as I imagine water would taste from a mountain spring -- invigorating!

Once we had a pot full of sap, we boiled it down. It took most of the day and didn't really taste sweet until it condensed down to about a cup for every 30 or so cups of sap. Once done, and still warm, we poured it into a clean bottle and now it sits, just waiting for Hazel and Norbert to come for a pancake breakfast.*

* I did use the very last drips to flavor a bowl of oatmeal and it was spectacular. 

Next week looks like it will warm up and sap collection will surely fall off. But late next winter, we'll be ready and can hopefully bottle more than one flask of this precious elixir.