I thought I'd let you know how my weekend went.

{A reprise from the retired jackjen blog.}

Cause it was awesome.

We went and watched 'em make maple syrup.

You heard me right--I'm now officially initiated into the New England culture. (I'm pretty sure watching the sugaring process is required for N.E. Newbies like us. And holy cow...AMAZING).

A branch president in our stake has a sugar house and makes syrup every winter...we heard from a mutual friend that "the sap was running" this weekend, and we could go and check it out...So we called some friends and piled into the car and drove the 1 hour and 40 minutes to Jaffrey, New Hampshire....Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand....saw several candidates for my dream house on the way. But none more dreamy than the branch president's house... I'd like to be first in line for this one, please.


We were channeling Robert Frost as we drove up the driveway....excited as can be. Though, let it be known: Boston as begun its two-month thaw....obviously, Jaffrey, NH didn't get the memo.



So, you'd THINK that this was how people collect maple sap....You'd be wrong. Oh, my friends, maple sugaring has come a LONG way. This isn't your grandfather's maple syruping, kids. Welcome to the 21st Centry of Syrup.

Instead of collecting it like this (above)


They collect it like this.




And here we have Ian explaining all of this to Landon...Then they hugged. The syrup really brings out the best in all of us.

And then.....THEN it gets even better. THEN they take everything into the sugar house. Not only is it warm (a luxury in Jaffrey, evidently), but have you ever smelled SWEET steam? AMAZING. I believe that all Mideast peace talks should be held in American sugar houses. Because surely everyone would feel the warm fuzzies in THERE. (And also possibly realize how lucky they are that the Middle East doesn't have a climate like Jaffrey, New Hampshire).

Here's about a zillion gallons of syrup-in-embryo.


And here's the master syrupologist stoking the fire of the evaporator. See it? See it? THAT, under all the steaminess, is ALMOST syrup. SO close.


This is, too.


And this is a happy New Englander. This is proof that we're not all rude and stuck up and full of ourselves. Cause if I hear about that one more time, I'm not gonna be very happy. At least not as happy as him.


Then they put the finished syrup through this thing-a-ma-doo and put it into the bottles. Mmmmm. (And hand out little sample cups all the while.) Mmmmmm. Samples.


Syrup is graded based on color and sugar content...They were working on 'US Grade A Medium Amber' while we were there....

Here's Ian by the grading scale. He can TELL it's the yumminess.


Then they hired Ian to be their spokesmodel. They paid him in syrup.

It was a beautiful day and we couldn't stop gushing about it on the way home over our Wendy's chili with our quart of syrup safely in the back seat.



P.S. The snowpile is still going strong....lots of you are out already. This is one fierce pile of snow, folks.

As if yesterday wasn't enough...

{Reprinted from jackjen.blogspot.com, with permission}

Yesterday evening, after my own personal snow-removal-miracle occurred, I sent a very nice thank-you email to the nice man who coordinates public works for our town. It involved lots of "Thank You's" all in a row, and probably a little bit of, "I didn't mean you had to do it TODAY..." But none the less, I was ever-so-grateful.

You'd think that would be the end of it.

You'd be wrong.

This morning, I looked out the window and saw this:


Right. A full-on bulldozer. Plowing away at my snow pile. I looked in my email in-box and saw a friendly email from my public works friend. It said:

"Jennifer, glad we could help; my men will be there sometime today to make it better for you. I also live on XXXXXAve in North XXXXXXXX, so feel free to email me anytime."

If ever there was a spiritual confirmation that Boston was the right locale to choose, this was it.

(In the same thought process, however, I had a foul, foul resurgence of my long-buried opinion that Provo City takes little-to-know care to attend to the needs of the students who live there...but that's another blog post entirely).

Now, I realize that this causes some complications with my contest. Because the snow pile went from huge to...well...nonexistant:


I was going to put a poll on the sidebar of my blog to get your opinions about what to do now, but decided against it. It's my contest, geewillikers, and I reserve the right to make the rules. Since the snow pile at the back of the cul-de-sac didn't technically melt, but rather, was MOVED, we will gage the date by the melting of the snow pile's new location: directly to the right of the driveway. It looks like this:


Since the pile is now sitting on grass rather than asphalt, and since it's about twice as high as it could ever get in the street, I will give you until Friday, January 18 to change your guess if you'd like. You still need to leave a comment in the original contest post, and you need to include your OLD guess as well as what your NEW guess is.

All in all, if you're considering a move to the metro-Boston area, maybe this moves it higher on your list. Yesterday morning I was huffing and puffing and cursing my lack of stamina to clear the whole driveway....and one email, 2 heavy-duty plow trucks, 1 bulldozer, and 1 sanding truck later, winter has changed completely. (Incidentally, I'd speculate that this list of equipment might be the sum total of the snow removal force in the city my husband grew up in....but it doesn't snow much in the South.)

I'm pretty sure I see a rainbow overhead.