![Free-eBooks.net](/resources/img/logo-nfe.png)
![All New Design](/resources/img/allnew.png)
Chapter Six
Grandma was working at the wood-burning cook stove dipping the glass jars she’d brought into pans of boiling water.
“Jamie, get yourself on over here and help,” she said when Uncle Orville set the pail of hot syrup on the table.
Jamie waved at Scot and Douglas. “C’mon, it’ll be faster if we do it together.” He led the way to the table. “We line up on this side. Douglas, Grandma’ll give you a jar and you put the rubber sealing ring on it. Then give it to me and I’ll fill it. Scot you wipe off the lip of the jar, put the lid on, and clip it down. Nothing to it.”
Grandma interrupted. “Jamie, don’t rush. They’ve never done this before. It’s not hard to do, but you have to do each step right or the jar won’t get a good seal. I’ll help the first few times.”
Using metal tongs, she took a jar from one of the pans of hot water and set it on the table. Then she spread a clean, white cloth in front of Jamie and Douglas and stacked a few rubber rings and some glass lids on the cloth she took from another pan of boiling water.
Scot was confused. “Grandma, these are glass jars. I thought canning was where you put things in cans. You know, metal cans like at the grocery store.”
Grandma laughed. “This is canning, too except we can use the jars over and over. You have to throw metal cans away after you open them.”
“That’s true. I guess this is a good way to do it. You won’t have to recycle the cans.”
“What’s ree…sigh…cling?” Jamie asked.
Douglas rolled his eyes at Scot’s mistake. Scot said, “Uh, well, in the city there are people who pick up used cans and melt them down so they can be used again.”
“Oh. That sounds like a good idea.” Jamie picked up a ladle with a long handle. “Grandma, would you take the filter off the pail?” When she had lifted off the cloth, Jamie said, “Douglas, put a ring on a jar and then I’ll fill it.”
With some fumbling because the jar was hot, Doulas got the rubber ring around the jar and passed it to Jamie.
Using the ladle, he dipped hot syrup out of the pail and filled the jar. “Then I give it to Scot.” He slid the jar down the table.
Grandma said, “Scot, use the damp dishcloth and wipe the rim so it’s clean. Be careful, because it’s very hot. Use one of these potholders to hold it.”
Scot wiped the rim of the jar and Grandma said, “Now put the glass lid on top, pull the wire fastener over it and you’re done. Watch.” Grandma set a heavy glass lid on the jar and flipped the wire bail over the lid with a snap. “There. You boys fill jars now and I’ll watch.”
With a few corrections, the boys were soon filling and sealing jars to Grandma’s satisfaction. “What you have to do is get an air-tight seal on the jars. Otherwise, the syrup may spoil. I boiled the jars and lids to kill any bacteria and mold on them. When the jar cools off, it’ll be sealed.”
Scot looked at the jars he had lined up on the table. “Why does it seal when it cools off? What does that have to do with it?”
“When it cools, the air inside gets smaller and it pulls the lid down tight against the rubber seal. To open the jar you have to pull part of the rubber ring out then it pops right open.”
The boys canned all the syrup in the pail and Scot lined the jars up in a row at the end of the table.
Uncle Orville picked up one of the filled jars with a potholder and held it up to the light from a window. “There’s four grades of maple syrup. He held up several small bottles in a wooden holder that were different shades of brown. “The state sets the standards and they gave me this set of syrup grades to show the difference in grades and colors. The first grade is Fancy, which is what this batch is. As the season gets on, the syrup gets darker. The next grade is ‘A,’ then ‘B’ and last is ‘C.’ I like B grade syrup myself. It’s got lots of maple flavor. We sell all the Fancy and A grades we can make. We trade the B grade at the store for things we need or barter with our neighbors. All the C grade syrup we sell to a man from the cigarette company that comes ’round every spring. They use it to flavor cigarettes and chewing tobacco.”
Scot made a face and stuck out his tongue. “Eee-yuk!”
“Waste of good syrup,” muttered Douglas.
Uncle Orville scratched under his hat. “Well, you know what, boys? I sorta feel the same way. But times are hard, and we need all the cash money we can earn to get us through the year. We don’t make much C grade syrup. Doesn’t pay enough for it to be worthwhile to make a lot of it. What we get, we get and then we’re done for the year. We make the most from the Fancy and grade A so we have to get all of that we can. Every drop.”
Grandma cleared the table and handed the pail and filter back to Uncle Orville. “It’s dinner time. I imagine you’re hungry by now. You can eat and then get back to skimming. Jamie, call your brothers in to eat. Scot, you and Douglas can set the table.” She pointed at one of the crates they had unloaded from the sleigh. “The plates and silverware are in that box.”
While Jamie went to get Ron and Russ, Scot and Douglas set the table with five plates and silverware. When all five were seated, Jamie said, “You’re gonna like this. Grandma always makes chicken stew and biscuits when we sugar.”
Grandma came to the table carrying a large pan and a ladle. “Now Jamie, don’t you go bragging up my chicken stew. Let them try it for themselves.” She doled out a large helping of chicken stew for everyone, set a plate of biscuits fresh from the cook stove oven and a jug of apple cider on the table. “There you go, boys. Dig in. And there’s plenty more if you want seconds.”
Jamie shoveled in stew like he hadn’t eaten for a week. Scot and Douglas took a few bites, smiled and then made an effort to catch up with Jamie.
Scot said, “This is wonderful. I’ve never had stew that tasted this good.”
Grandma smiled at the compliment. “Well, I’m glad you like it. I use vegetables from my garden that I canned last summer. Would you like more?”
All the boys took a refill, even Ron and Russ. Scot thought seriously about asking for thirds.
Jamie got up from his chair and talked to Grandma. “Hey you guys want some dessert?” Jamie called. “Grandma’s gonna help us make sugar-on-snow. It’s great.”
Scot groaned and patted his stomach. Douglas said, “I don’t know Jamie. We’re full.”
“I know, but there’s always room for sugar-on-snow.” He waved them over to the cook stove in the corner. “C’mon and watch how it’s done.”
When the boys gathered around the stove, Grandma said, “There’s nothing to it. I just pour about a pint of syrup in a pan and set it on the stove. Once it’s boiling, I take a thermometer and watch the temperature again. I’ll put it on the back of the stove where it’s not too hot and let it heat slowly without stirring it so more water will boil off until it gets up to about 230 degrees. I’ll let you know when it’s ready. You boys skim while you wait.”
As they skimmed the foam, Jamie asked over and over, “Is it ready yet, Grandma?”
She’d say, “Not yet, Jamie. Be patient, you know how long it takes.”
When their arms were getting tired again, Grandma said, “Okay Jamie, it’s ready. Come and get it.”
Jamie went to the stove, wrapped a towel around the handle of the pan, and lifted it from the stove. “Hurry and follow me. We can’t let it cool off.” He hustled out of the sugarhouse and Douglas and Scot followed. Ron and Russ interrupted their game and joined them.
Outside, Jamie carefully poured the syrup in long thin lines onto hard-packed snow. Hissing steam rose as the syrup cooled. Douglas and Scot were surprised that the syrup turned light brown and sort of rubbery.
Jamie picked up a strand and stretched it. “Grab a piece and try it. It’s great.” He popped his into his mouth.
Douglas did the same. “Wow. It’s good, but it’s awfully sweet.”
Scot picked up a small piece and started chewing on it. “Yeah it is, but I like it. Somehow, I can still taste the tree in it.” He took another small piece and closed his eyes while he chewed.
Jamie grinned and said, “Oh, wait a minute. I forgot something. Be right back.” He trotted into the sugarhouse and came back with a glass jar. He lifted the lid and held it out to Douglas and Scot.
Scot looked in the jar and asked, “What’s that?”
“Dill pickles. You eat ‘em with the snow sugar.”
Douglas said, “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” Jamie popped a piece of snow sugar into his mouth, took a dill pickle spear from the jar, chomped off the end and chewed. “Ahh. That’s good. Try it.”
Douglas took a pickle and took a small bite. He chewed then took a bigger bite of pickle and snow sugar. “Hey, you’re right. This is good. Try it, Scot.”
Scot did and they were all eating snow sugar and chomping bites of dill pickle spears. Scott said, “Who do think ever thought about trying something as sweet as maple sugar with dill pickles?”
Douglas said, “I don’t know, but I’m glad they did.”
When the snow sugar was gone, they started skimming again.
Ron, Russ and Bear curled up in a corner near the stove on a pile of gunnysacks and went to sleep. A few minutes later, Scot looked around the sugar house and asked, “Jamie, what’s that noise?”
Jamie shook his skimmer and pointed. “Oh, that’s just Bear snoring.”
Scot turned and looked toward the corner by the stove. Ron and Russ were asleep and using Bear as a pillow who was rumbling every time he exhaled. “I never knew dogs snored like that.”
“Yeah, you can hear him all over the house especially when he’s tired. I’m surprised he doesn’t keep the twins awake.”
The afternoon wore on and they got two more buckets of syrup from the evaporator. The twins woke up and roasted marshmallows on sticks in the fire. The sun dropped behind the hills and Aunt Thelma lit lanterns and hung them from the rafters of the sugarhouse. The lanterns made things brighter, but it was still gloomy.
Scot said to Douglas, “It’s starting to get dark. How are we going to get back?”
Douglas shook his head and shrugged slightly. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”