The Woolley Farm

breakfast

Originally uploaded by The Woolley Farm.

This past Saturday there was a pancake breakfast here in West Baldwin. Held as fundraisers and a good complement to the famous Bean Supper, it’s not only a good place to get fueled up for a day of chopping wood & getting ready for winter, it’s a place to catch up on all the latest gossip.

But wait, what do I see?

bagOriginally uploaded by The Woolley Farm.

It’s a couple of Brown Paper Bags, held on peoples laps or stuck under their coats or in purses. What the heck? Has it come to THIS? Are people DRINKING at pancake Breakfasts now?

pancakes

Originally uploaded by The Woolley Farm.

I look around the room. I see pancakes, stacked high on everyones plate, with syrup running down in rivers over the sides.

syrupcan

Originally uploaded by The Woolley Farm.

I see no Maple Syrup cans, the kind that a few still use today, before the plastic jugs became popular.

syrup

Originally uploaded by The Woolley Farm.

I see NO maple syrup jugs.

auntj

Originally uploaded by The Woolley Farm.

I see bottles & bottles of Aunt Jermimah pancake syrup.
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jar

Originally uploaded by The Woolley Farm.

Oh wait a minute! In those brown paper bags are little canning jars, each full of home-made maple syrup. Each farmer has brought his own, as each has grown fond of his particular syrup’s taste. Yes, indeed, each batch tastes different and if you’re good at it, you can tell what farm made what syrup, just on a blind taste test!

Not particulary wanting to share the precious syrup (but they will if asked, of course), the farmers who do ’sugaring’, smuggle in their own little jars, wrapped up in brown paper bags.

So, nope, it wasn’t liquor, it was something BETTER — home-made maple syrup!!! Now that I know the protocal and etiquette of the Maine Pancake Breakfast, next time I’ll be bringing my OWN little canning jar with our own Woolley Farm Maple Syrup. Yeah!!!

The barn

Originally uploaded by The Woolley Farm.

This is our first ‘major’ snow of the season. Major is anything over 4″. We’re supposed to get between 12-18″. Usually the first snow melts into slush. Once in a while, it’s a cold enough winter that the first snow stays on the ground till April. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen this year, although we do usually have a white Christmas.

The old barn Looks festive with the green door! Note the pile of snow on the birdfeeder. It’s soft, fluffy snow and no wind, so it’s covering everything so nicely.

P-Tunia gets buried

Originally uploaded by The Woolley Farm.

Yes, I do name my cars. This is P-Tunia, my little red PT. And I just remembered that I forgot to find the snow brush for the car. Which means I have to use my arms — cold! You can’t use a broom or you’ll scratch the cars surface. You have to use a soft brush, quite plentiful in all the stores in New England and guaranteed to be one of the presents in my stocking.

Now, the snow brush is NOT to be confused with the all-important ice scraper. This is kept on the side pocket of the car as it’s used daily here in the north country. It is used to scrape/chip/grind away the ice from windows & windshield and to (gently) pry the frozen wipers up from the glass.

Oh no, I forgot to check the blue washer fluid. You have to use the kind that is rated for -40 degrees, otherwise if you go to clear your windshield while driving, it instantly freezes and you can’t see a thing.

However, in order to get to the blue-window-stuff, I have to open the hood (the bonnet for you Irish readers), and before THAT can happen, I have to find that darn snow brush & get the snow off the hood.

I think I’ll wait & see if the wind will come & blow some of the snow off. Thank goodness I don’t have to go out today. I’m just ‘nesting’ here at the farm, keeping the wood furnace fed and listing stuff on eBay.

The view from our living room

Originally uploaded by The Woolley Farm.

Yoda, our newest family member, lays in the snow keeping an eye on the horses as they paw for leaves near the grapevines. There’s a huddle of ewes in the little shelter, snuggled down in the hay, just watching the snow fall.