maple syrup breakfast

We had a maple syrup breakfast, enjoying the syrup from our own tree. Sarah and Ryan brought Brutus. Joel and Steph brought Simon. While we ate the two pouches guarded the door.

(Photo by Joel)

search for colonial

With the sky cloudless, I took off for the hinterlands in search of the perfect meetinghouse. The next production at work requires new visuals for the CD and liner notes.

wheels of Monterey

Two Monterey grade-schoolers take the pinto pony on a spin Saturday afternoon. Is it a pinto? I don't know. Made me think of one of the first pop songs I remember listening to, "Across the Alley from the Alamo," a 1947 song sung by the Mills Brothers. I would play the record on the sly at my Grandpa/ma Lehman's farmhouse in probably 1950.

Listen to it--http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xMfnaR5yUzs

spring and smoke

The first day of spring and we burn down the brush pile beside the compost. With the f stop at 22 to get depth of field, see the horse manure heaped on the garden in the background, ready to be rototilled. The flame jumped from the brush to dead vines of the compost pile.

whoopie pie fame

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/18/dining/18whoop.html

Mama, don't let them take my whoopie pie away. Don't let them take the heart, soul, and stomach of Pennsylvania Dutch culture and commercialize it, franchise it, philistinize it, pulverize it, trivialize it, schmaltzify it, scrutinize it to death. No.

I still know where the best ones are made and it's only eight cornfields from Monterey. And I ain't tellin' no nytimes reporter.

sugar camp done

We have decamped the maple sugar operation. The first boil started at 3:45 p.m., Feb. 19. Eight gallons of sap from the one tap of the one tree has produced about 24 ounces of syrup. The earliest is best, grade A. The Feb. 27 vintage looks good but check out the ton of sediment. The last batch will put sugar on your flapjacks but has heavy overtones of wood and earth. We're having a pancake breakfast to test them in a week.

Cumberland moment

Monday was a quick day in western Maryland, including Queen City Creamery in Cumberland, where the sign reminded me--only five days until spring. Oh, dolce de leche tastes like a very mild caramel.

chapel tract

One evening a man from the church down Eby Road stopped by the house and handed us tracts. I had never visualized the cross as a bridge before, but it works. I would like to become more familiar with the people who drive in and meet there. I like the line drawing, but it is an old one, since the front sign was moved closer to the building years ago.

home from beach

Dorcas drove the Jetta most of the way home. Here's the Del. route 1 bridge over the canal--a suspension bridge in the center. I picture a huge tyrannosaurus rex playing harp music while nibbling on cars.

retreat to ocean

We watched March come in like a lion in Bethany Beach, Delaware, the last day of February and the first day of March. Those lyrics come from a popular musical, "Carousel." Our room was cold, downstairs in the parlor a wood pellet stove cheerily heated the old house, haunted in some of the rooms says an article about haunted houses in Delaware.

On arrival, we walked a mile on the crusted sand. By morning the waves were whipping up geysers of spray. It wasn't the most pleasant retreat but it gave us some perspective.