Category Archives: Putting Food Up

The woods of Maine

Am I the one behind the times?

Backwater. Backwoods. Out of touch. Out of date. Woods queer. Stuck in the past. These are terms used recently to describe people like me. Obviously, they are not terms of endearment. They’re not positive images as they’re being used in these conversations.

Here’s a little about me, in case you’re a new reader. I hunt, fish, paddle, forage and have a one-acre garden. I raise chickens, ducks and turkeys for meat and eggs. I’m a dumbass with a smart phone I barely know how to use to make a call (it’s not set up well).  I don’t care to know more. I can make calls, text and send pictures. Apps? I have a great flashlight… All the other apps came pre-installed. My name is Robin, and I am an app failure…and I like it that way.

Fawn Runner Ducks

Fawn Runner Ducks

I’m on Twitter. I thought I’d enjoy sharing #TreestandTweets but it was annoying. I’m not sitting in a tree to tweet; save that for birds. I’m there to hunt and be aware of my surroundings. I have followers but I don’t follow the rule of following back everyone who follows me. I’ve never been to a Tweetup and have never felt the need to, even “for my career.”  I have a Facebook page for my writing but don’t post there a lot. No need to inundate anyone with reminders about me; they know where to find me.

Out of date. I’m anti-genetic engineering, anti-Monsanto, anti-food lot, anti-antibiotic in factory farms…I’m anti-factory farms. I know what’s in my food. Like a growing number of people who are paying attention, I provide at least some of my own food.  If you aren’t already providing some of your own food, you are behind the times.  I can feed myself with food I grow, raise and buy locally. So I’m out of touch, backwater, backwoods, stuck in the past, but I can feed myself.

I’m out of touch. My kids didn’t get cell phones until they were driving. We live 20 miles from the high school, further from their jobs. They had cell phones with limited amounts of minutes so that they could call us in an emergency. We <gasp> were pretty insistent that they communicate with people face to face. I’m not used to this commonly accepted bad habit of ignoring people in favor of someone else.

I’m out of touch even with a cell phone. If your phone rings in a restaurant and interrupts someone’s meal I won’t hesitate to tell you we are not in a phone booth. If someone else is more important than the people you are with at the moment, do the unimportant people a favor and leave. Get off the phone and communicate face to face.

Backwoods. You bet! Forty-five acres in the middle of thousands of acres, no neighbors in sight. I can feed myself from the land. We heat our home with wood, a renewable resource. I’m not depending on anyone to keep me warm. Or fed.

firewood

We burned four cords of firewood in the winter of 2012-13.

Woods queer: (adjective) a milder form of insanity that results from living in a rural isolated environment, typically the woods or forest.  Ok, I’ll claim that, but I don’t think I’m any more insane than the city or urban queer. We’re all a little insane (but some of us don’t know that yet) no matter where we live.

Backwater. Backwoods. Out of touch. Out of date. Woods queer. Stuck in the past. Happy. Satisfied. Fulfilled. Content. Well fed. Warm. Self sufficient.  It works for me.

The woods of Maine

I live here.

 

Preparing for a Successful Turkey Hunt

Preparation for turkey season starts well before opening day. You don’t want to find yourself shivering on the cold ground with a gun that isn’t equipped to do the job or worse yet, you’re unfamiliar with, and making odd noises with your new calls.

It’s never too soon to learn how to your calls in the comfort of your home. It’s perfectly acceptable to cheer using a big loud GOBBBBBBLE when someone scores a touch down during the Super Bowl. The family and friends celebrating with you will be thrilled. Or not…whatever. That’s not the important issue. Practice as often as necessary. I don’t practice outdoors when the toms start answering. I want them to think I’m the new tom in town, and I want them to be eager to strut in to check me out.

  • make time to learn the different calls hens make
  • when should you call
  • when should you not call
  • learn about owl and crow calls as locators
  • learn now to not make your crow call sound like a duck

Dress for the occasion. Choose camo patterns and colors that match the location you’ll be hunting. The clothes I have on at the end of April will have too much brown and not enough green for the end of May. I’ll need warmer clothes an hour before sunrise when I walk to my hunting spot than I’ll need a month later.

If you’ve never hunting from the ground, find a spot and sit still. Turkeys have excellent vision. It’s not as easy as you might think. You want something to sit on if you’re on the ground. Rocks, sticks, twigs, moisture and cold can make sitting still miserable.

While you’re sitting still, stay quiet. Turkeys also have excellent hearing.

Are you going to sit in a blind? Behind brush? Find your spot ahead of time. If you’re using a blind, put it up in time to let the birds get used to it. Turkeys are aware of their surroundings. They know when something changes.

Learn how to use your decoys. You don’t want to stand in the field fumbling with decoys while the turkeys laugh and point their wingtips at you. Learn to place your decoys and get out of the field.

Scout. Find the turkeys. There’s no use in sitting still on a cold morning, not making a sound, if there are no turkeys in the area. They don’t have to be in the field immediately at the beginning of legal hunting time, but they have to be close enough that they can hear you, and that you can call them to you. On a clear morning you can hear toms gobbling a mile away easily. Locate the birds a few days ahead of time.  Don’t frequently be in the area you’ll be hunting when you’re not hunting. The birds will move on if you’re there too often. Look for tracks in mud and sand along roadways. This is what you’re looking for:

Turkey track in mud

Turkey track in mud

Tracks are 3.5″ to 4.5″ long and 3.75″ to 4.25″ wide on a mature bird. In grass, look for manure. In agricultural fields, look for big “bowls” in the soil where they’ve taken dirt baths.

Find the area the birds are going up to roost at night. The spot they choose to end their day is where they’ll start the next day. I have Ricky, Lucy and Ethel. They move with the breeze and are realistic enough that the wild turkeys will try to peck them into submission.

What happens if you shoot your turkey and it doesn’t die? Be prepared to shoot again, or wring or stomp on its neck. They’re tough birds. I shot my first turkey and lost it when it flew away. We searched all over for it. I don’t know if it eventually died or if I only knocked feathers out. If I’d been able to take a second shot safely (it flew over my husband’s head) I’d have tagged the bird. Make sure you can get the second shell in before you hunt.

Know the pattern of your shotgun. This is the pattern of my .20 gauge at 18 yards

spray pattern for .20 gauge shotgun, 18 yards

Picture a turkey’s head in that pattern. You’re aiming for the head and neck. Knowing how wide the pattern will be at different distances will help you make a better shot. Use the ammo you’ll be using when you hunt. I’m hunting with my new Remington 870 12 gauge with a turkey choke, using a turkey load. The pattern above is an example only.

Know where you can hunt. Ask for permission from the landowner. Permission is not only common courtesy, it’s a big safety factor. If everyone asked landowner permission the landowner could tell you who and how many other people are hunting there. If I know someone else is hunting in an area and don’t know or trust them, I stay away. Steve was shot in a hunting incident. I need to know who’s out there.

We have a huge exception to asking landowner permission in Maine. Large timber management companies own large tracts of forest, fields and water in Maine, and leave them open to hunting. Many require a fee for bear baits and tree stands but I don’t know of any that require you to get a permit to bird hunt on their land. Check to be sure.

Eastern wild tom turkeys in Maine

We stroll through like we own the place.

Know the boundaries. I live in WMD (Wildlife Management District) 19. This district opened to turkey hunting recently. Until it opened we could hunt on one side of Route 6 but not the other. If you found turkeys on the other side of Route 6 you could try to call them to you on the legal side, but you risked calling them across the road in front of vehicles. If you watch North Woods Law you know that Maine game wardens are hiding directly over your shoulder watching every single move you make. They’re like moms – they know everything. Or it feels like it. If obeying the law to stay moral and ethical isn’t enough, think of the wardens. Take a turkey outside the legal area is not worth it. It’s just a bird.

Know the rest of the laws. Turkey season isn’t like other seasons in Maine. The hunt ends at noon, not 30 minutes after sunset. Read the book. Find a tagging station before you need it. Get your permits, they might not come with your license. Do you need a transport tag? How long do you have to tag your bird? Know the laws and save yourself time, money and possibly the loss of your hunting priviledge.

boc choi dill seedlings

Fedco Seeds Order 2013

Here’s the 2013 Fedco Seeds order. I order the majority of my seeds from Fedco for several reasons.

  • It’s a cooperative, not a conglomerate
  • Monsanto
  • They buy from/support small seed growers, some of them Fedco staff
  • Maine business: local starts at the beginning, not at the grocery store.
  • Staff is wonderful. And funny. Helpful, informative and are folks who are just like me and maybe you
  • Best prices I’ve ever seen, and I’ve looked at hundreds (some repeats, different years) of catalogs in the last 25 year

I’ll eventually move some of this list into new blog entries. One will be varieties that are new to me, seeds I’ll plant in February and March in the high tunnels, varieties I grow only in high tunnels, and who knows what else might cross my mind.

boc choi dill seedlings

Boc choi and dill seedlings

This isn’t a complete list of everything I’ll grow this year, it’s just the order from Fedco. I’ve ordered from Renee’s Garden (A media kit so I’ll be writing about that order, too.) and will order from Johnny’s (which is not owned by Monsanto). I have some seeds in stock.

204 – Provider Bush Green Bean
265 – Indy Gold Bush Wax Bean
577 – Fleet Bicolor Sweet Corn
680 – Painted Mountain Ornamental Corn
710 – Coral Shell Pea
818 – Oregon Giant Snow Pea
1234 – Cross Country Pickling Cucumber
1302 – Ministro Slicing Cucumber
1407 – Golden Arrow Zucchini
1504 – Saffron Summer Squash
1611 – Zeppelin Delicata Winter Squash
1633 – Eastern Rise Winter Squash
1655 – Blue Hubbard Winter Squash
1672 – Galeux dEysines Winter Squash
1687 – Waltham Butternut Winter Squash
1702 – Wee-B-Little Pumpkin
1710 – Diablo Pumpkin
1713 – Lumina Pumpkin
1716 – Jarrahdale Pumpkin
1718 – Winter Luxury Pumpkin
1719 – New England Pie Pumpkin
1727 – Rouge Vif d’Etampes Pumpkin
1740 – Cheese Pumpkin
2108 – Early Wonder Tall Top Beet
2310 – Harris Model Parsnip
2378 – Purple Top White Globe Turnip
2398 – Laurentian Rutabaga
2425 – Bleu de Solaize Leek
2447 – Whitewing Onion
2490 – Rossa di Milano Onion
2498 – Walla Walla Sweet Spanish Onion
2510 – Space Spinach
2728 – Red Salad Bowl Lettuce
2980 – Lettuce Mix
3220 – Tatsoi
3260 – Shuko Pac Choi
3303 – Tendergreen Broccoli
3338 – Falstaff Brussels Sprouts
3352 – Golden Acre Cabbage
3375 – Ruby Perfection Cabbage
3410 – Snow Crown Cauliflower
3469 – Kale Mix
3471 – Kolibri Kohlrabi
3764 – Early Jalapeno Hot Pepper
3837 – Revolution Sweet Pepper
4135 – Opalka Paste Tomato
4207 – Juliet Tomato
4418 – Genovese Basil
4530 – Bouquet Dill
5152 – Helen Mount Johnny-Jump-Up
5211 – Crackerjack Mix African Marigold
5305 – Brush Strokes Pansy
5355 – Carnation Rose Poppy

Nine week old meat chickens.

Slaughtering Day for the Meat Chickens

It was cold the day we killed the chickens. Steve finished a few projects he’d been working on outside while I did some housework and cooking. With those tasks done, we could concentrate on the birds. I put the dogs in the house. Ava, our English Shepherd, spent a lot of time with “her” birds, and I didn’t know how protective she’d be of them when they squawked as we picked them up or when they were killed.  She has epilepsy, and stress and anxiety induce seizures.

9 1/2 week old Cornish Rock meat chickens

These 9 1/2 week old meat chickens are full grown. The roosters were starting to crow.

Steve found a large, heavy firewood log that hadn’t been split yet. He pounded two large nails into the top, outside edge of the log to serve as the chopping block. The chickens should die instantly, not be wounded. The nails serve as a holder for the bird’s head.

The chopping block, equipped to hold the chicken still.

The chopping block, equipped to hold the chicken still.

Nine and a half weeks’ worth of time put into raising the chickens ended quickly. Steve set the chopping block down by the high tunnel. The first chicken squawked and flapped for a few seconds before it relaxed. He carried it to the block, put its head on the outside of the two nails, picked up the ax and with one small swing, cut off the bird’s head. Its wings flapped violently for three or four seconds. When they slowed, he placed the carcass on its back to bleed out.

I handed him one of the two birds I was holding, he killed it, and I handed him the next one. While he killed that one, I retrieved two more chickens from the high tunnel. With five birds ready to be butchered, we headed to the makeshift table.

We don’t eat the heart, liver or gizzard. We don’t know anyone who wants these organs so we no longer gut the birds. It’s kind of a shame we don’t like them but they don’t go to waste so I don’t feel bad about not using them. More about that later.

The air temperature was 40* and the breeze blew. I dislike butchering in warm weather so the cool day was most welcome.

I cut the bottom half of the legs off at the joint. They’re supposed to be great for chicken stock but I’m not able to get past the fact that they step in manure. I dropped them into the offal bucket. I cut the skin open from the bottom of the breast to the top and pulled it away from the meat. It takes a bit of strength to move the skin from the legs. I remove the skin before cooking chicken so there’s no point in going to the trouble of plucking the carcasses. I pushed the bird down the table to Steve. He removed the leg and thigh quarter as one piece, then fileted the breast meat from the bone. That’s it; that bird is done. The meat goes into a large bowl until I’m done with my portion of the work and  move it into the cooler filled with 45* well water and a block of ice where it will cool. We worked through five chickens in a half hour, picking up speed with each bird.

Tammy, a friend of mine, arrived to help us at the end of the fifth bird. We caught five birds, handing them one at a time to Steve. I removed the bottom half of the legs, Tammy cut the skin and pushed it back out of the way, and pushed the carcass down to Steve. We had ten birds finished. On the third trip to the chopping block, Steve asked for seven birds, about half of the 15 left.

Butchering the meat chickens

With the skin removed from the breast, the meat is easy to remove from the carcass.

It takes about 30 seconds to remove both halves of the breast meat.

It took two and a half hours to kill and butcher 25 birds. The roosters were impressively large weighing between 9.5 to 10.5 pounds each. The hens were seven to eight pounds each (live weight). We had more roosters than hens. I hoped for 100 pounds of meat and was very pleased with the end total of 117 pounds.

When the chicks arrived as three day old fluff balls they were kept in a plastic bin in the house. They had a heat pad for warmth. The moved outside to grass during the day and came in at night. I was eager to get them out of the house. They moved to a chicken tractor, then the high tunnel. The weather was unstable for part of the time they were in the tunnel so I had to be careful to open the doors to let the breeze cool the tunnel. There were days warm enough to make it hot inside the tunnel so the birds were outside on grass and in the garden. In the end, most days were cool and cloudy. I opened the doors on each end for air circulation and to let them out, and they often stayed inside if I gave them food. If I didn’t give them food they went out to eat but returned the extra warmth of the tunnel. The high tunnel made my work very easy. It was nice to not move the tractor twice a day at the end when they were at their biggest and messiest stage.

I let the dogs out when we finished. Ava sniffed around the table where we’d cleaned the birds, and had no interest in going to the high tunnel to see that the birds were gone. She seemed to already know. She didn’t look for them. Our morning routine involved tending the meat chickens first, then the laying hens and turkeys, then the ducks and bantam chickens. Ava rounded the corner of the shed and raced to the tunnel first each morning. She hasn’t done it since the birds were killed.  We killed chickens a month after we got her as a pup and again last year. As a two year old in her third season of working with meat chickens, she remembered how this works. She’s an excellent asset to our homestead.

The meat was cooled overnight, drained and packed in Food Saver and Ziplock freezer bags. I used quart Ziplocs that are made to prevent freezer burn. A small hand pump sucks the air out of the bag. The Ziploc bags are easier and faster to use than Food Saver bags (which you have to make individually). If they work as well in the freezer at preventing freezer burn I will use Ziploc exclusively next year.

This is the first year in many years (I don’t remember how many.) that we didn’t lose any birds to predators. It was by far the easiest, most successful year we’ve had with meat chickens.

Meat Chickens – Five Weeks

Raising meat chickens isn’t very exciting or interesting after the newness wears off. They’re cute at first, then not as cute as their feathers fill in. By the time they’re feathered out, which has happened with the five week old birds, cute is out the window. They’ve been demoted to something on my daily to do list. This is how I make the separation between the chickens here temporarily, being raised as food, and the laying hens that are here for several years. These are not birds to get attached to. I treat them respectfully and take good care of them but they won’t see me often in the next four or five weeks.
The birds are five weeks old and average three pounds each. I’m happy with their growth. It’s not so fast that they’re going to have leg problems and not so slow that I’ll have to keep them into November.
Chicken Tractor

The chicks have been kept in the chicken tractor unless the weather is bad.

There isn’t any chance of skipping a day of moving the chicken tractor. These birds, Cornish x Rock, are poop machines. As soon as the grass dries in the morning the tractor is moved sideways to fresh grass. I move the front, the back and then the front again. It takes about a minute. The chickens are in and out of the tractor during the day. I put their food in the tractor but their water outside to help keep them moving. A tarp is zip tied to the tractor. It covers about two-thirds of the tractor to provide shade and protection from the rain. At night, we add another tarp to cover most of the tractor to help them stay warm and safer. There’s enough open area to allow air flow.
The base of the tractor is made of 2” x 6”s. Ten foot PVC pipes are attached to both long sides of the base with U brackets and form a Quonset-shaped frame. The frame is covered with coated wire to add support and stability, and keeps the tarp from sagging. It’s tall enough for chickens and turkeys.
U clamps are used to attach pvc pipe to boards to form the frame of top of the chicken tractor.

U clamps are used to attach pvc pipe to boards to form the frame of top of the chicken tractor.

Something interesting but unfortunate happened when the chicks were four weeks old. I told Ava to put the chickens in the high tunnel. We were going to have three days of rain; the tunnel is the best place for them in bad weather. The birds are used to her being with them and will follow her around. She moved the first 20 in a few minutes while I cleaned and filled chicken, duck and turkey waterers. I didn’t see chickens out but a head count in the tunnel showed only 20 birds inside. “Ava, bring me the chickens.” She went to an old chicken tractor off to the side, waiting to be dismantled. I don’t know if Ava put the birds in there or if they went in on their own. Ava refused to go in and herd them out. She’s stubborn but she enjoys working. It’s not like her to refuse to move the birds. I leaned in to pick one up and heard the distinct hum of an angry yellow jacket. I put the dogs in the house, safely away from the nest, to avoid making the situation worse.
yellow jacket nest in chicken tractor

The yellow jacket nest was out of sight when the tractor was upright.

One of the chickens had been stung and was trembling in the far corner. It gasped for breath. I was sure it was going to die. I sprayed the flying yellow jackets and as much of the nest as I could see. When the four loose birds were safe and sound in the tunnel I returned to the tunnel to retrieve the dying, or by then, dead bird. It was not only alive, it ran away from me. I caught it, took it to the tunnel and put it down. It fell over, gasping again, and looking like it was on the verge of dying. I checked on it several times before the rain started. It alternated between gasping and dust baths. I’ve never seen a bird as dirty as this one. I don’t know the significance of the dirt bath or that it helped the bird in anyway. I wouldn’t have been able to tell it apart from the rest of the chickens if it hadn’t still been dirty. It made a full recovery.
We’re planning to butcher the chickens on October 28, before we get busy with deer hunting. It seems like a long time but the first five weeks passed quickly; these five weeks will too.

Meat Chickens – Three Weeks Old

Ava’s charges, also known as the meat chicks, have been here for three weeks. They’ve grown from tiny yellow puffballs weighing in the neighborhood of two ounces to an average of 15 oz. Yes, I weighed a few. I was curious. They’re 20 days old as I write this and are growing well.

English Shepherd and Meat Chickens

Ava herds the chicks out of the tractor.

The chick starter I’m feeding the meat birds is powdery. I dislike it a lot but it’s the only starter available locally. By locally, I mean within 50 miles. The dust floats through the air and creates a film on everything in spite of the air purifier a few feet from the chicks’ bin. And, they stink. Before I had all of the newspapers under them changed they’d already pooped on the fresh papers. It was too cool at night to leave them outside. I’ve shuffled my poultry around to avoid a chicken and duck-killing skunk until I can catch it. Having the chicks in the barn wasn’t an option. I moved them to the enclosed sun porch.

Two days after moving them to the sun porch, I moved them to the small high tunnel. They’re outside all day every day with the exception of one rainy day. We got 4.5 inches of rain in 18 hours. During the day they chicks are on grass. They’re closed into the tunnel in late afternoon. They sun warms the tunnel. At sunset, I move them into the plastic bin, place the cover upside (so it can’t clip on and suffocate them) on top of the bin, and they’re toasty warm in the morning.

This is a lot of extra work. I probably should have ordered them a month earlier. Next year. I’ll remember this next year and avoid the constant chick shuffle.

At this point, extra work excluded, the chicks are still very easy to care for. I started with 26 and still have 25. The chick with black spots didn’t look good one morning and was dead a few hours later. It happens.

During the day I feed and water them, count them to be sure none have squeezed out, and walk away. These are meat birds. They’ll always be well cared for but they’re not pets. It’s important to be very clear in the difference between the barnyard hen that lays eggs and stays a few years, or maybe her entire life, and the birds that are here approximately eight weeks.

English Shepherd and Meat Chickens

Ava keeps the chickens safe from predators.

If you’re familiar with raising Cornish rock crosses or similar breeds in backyards, you’ve probably heard how gross, dirty, disgusting, fill-in-the-blank they are. I raised them that way the first year. I kept food and water in front of them all the time. They had room to roam but with unlimited food, they had no need to get up and move. They really were repulsive. The following year was better. I took their food away from them in the evening, leaving only their water. They were less disgusting. I made more changes the third year. I put up a portable fence around the tractor, opened the door and let them roam during the day. And roam they did because they were hungry. I fed them in the morning to help with morning chill. They were fed again in early evening to get them to go back into the tractor without having to be herded in by one of the farm dogs. They spent the day chasing grasshoppers, beetles and other insects. Just like “normal” chickens, they took dust baths. They behaved like the laying hens. I let them into the portions of the garden not being used. It’s a great set up. They scratched up grubs, ate weed seeds and deposited manure. As soon as they’re full feathered out, the tractor is moved to the garden when the soil is dry enough. They’re moved back to grass before rainy days.

Twenty five chicks have eaten 50 pounds of food in three weeks, plus whatever they’re finding on their own in the grass. They’re still too small to manage grasshoppers alone but a few chicks competing for the same one can catch it and pull it apart by fighting over it. It takes effort on their part but eventually the grasshoppers they catch become a meal.

Ava helps me in the evening by herding the chicks. She brings them to me to move into the bin for transfer to the high tunnel. She stays nearby and checks on them often during the day. When they’re old enough to be turned loose into a large area, she’ll spend several hours inside the fence with them. The rest of the day, she’ll be outside the fence to chase away hawks, eagles, late-migrating turkey vultures and anything else she thinks is a threat to her birds. I’ve corrected her twice for picking up uncooperative chicks to bring to me. She used to drag a mean rooster around by a leg when he didn’t cooperate. I stopped that habit but could see she was still tempted. He was mean so…well…off with his head. Problem solved then. I’ll probably have to remind her to “let it be” a few more times. She’s stubborn.

 

 

 

 

The Smokehouse

I admire Rohan Anderson and his lifestyle. His blog, Whole Larder Love, is well written and his photography is beautiful. He recently built a smokehouse. Here’s the short video of the process.

Chandler’s Sugar Shack, LLC

Originally published in Lancaster Farming.

TOPSFIELD, Maine — Making maple syrup has become a tradition for the Chandler family in Topsfield, Maine.

Bob Chandler is a retired forester. Marge retired from teaching a multi-grade classroom of kindergarten through second grade in a nearby three-room elementary school. Retirement goes by the wayside in late winter and early spring when their sons, Bobby and Bart, and Bart’s wife, Jamie, pitch in to tap trees, collect sap and make maple syrup.

Bobby has moved away from the immediate area and, like his father, is a forester. It’s fitting that a forester is making maple syrup; he obviously enjoys the work. He’s working six days a week, but he’s home on Sundays to help. Bart and Jamie, high school sweethearts, recently bought a house and moved back home to Topsfield. Bart is an engineer whose skills are put to use in the family business. Jamie is the new “Mrs. Chandler” at the three-room elementary school, replacing Marge when she retired.

Chandler's Sugar Shack

Chandler’s Sugar Shack is anything but a shack. Stop in to visit!

Chandler’s Sugar Shack LLC started as a hobby five years ago. The goal was to tap 100 to 150 maple trees. They sold 40 gallons of syrup the first year. Now in their fifth year, they have 1,300 trees on tubing and 200 buckets hanging on trees.

“They’re young and they have the energy to do all this,” Bob says. “There’s a lot to it. It’s not a weekend project. It takes a lot of time to get the flagging tied to the trees to lay out a level path for the tubing. You can’t have sags in it. Then they (Bobby and Bart) put up 12-gauge high tensile wire. The tubing is tied to the wire to keep it in place.”

The Chandlers recently built a pump house for the new vacuum pump and moisture filter. The building sits just off the side of the road at the bottom of two hills. It also houses a 500-gallon stainless steel milk tank and other equipment.

“You can tell where the sap is coming from,” Bart says, “by looking at the hoses. This one’s coming in from trees behind the cemetery.” There are five hoses coming into the tank and he knows where each one originates.

While Bart explains the tank, hoses, moisture filter and vacuum pump, Bobby takes a hose from the tank in the pump house to the pickup truck. A plastic 375-gallon portable tank is strapped down in the back of the truck. The pump moves 30 gallons of sap a minute from one tank to the other.

“This is a lot easier and takes a lot less time than emptying buckets,” says Bobby.

You can’t help notice the tube that comes down the hill and crosses the road far above your head. “It fell down a few times,” explains Bobby. “It’s on that big ash tree that moves in the wind. We left it down after a few times and just put it back up when the sap started to run.”

On a recent warm morning, it’s already 40 degrees at 9 a.m., and the road is getting muddy. A truck slides around and makes ruts in the road on the way to the sugar shack. The warmth and sun make for a good sap run. Steam rolls out of the opening in the roof and the air smells faintly of maple syrup.

Gordon and Eva Severance stop by. Eva says, “We came out today because who knows what the road will be like for Maple Sunday.”

Rick Whiting, a neighbor who lives just up the road from the sugar shack, pulls in on his ATV. “A few days ago I had the snowmobile, but the road’s all mud now,” he says.

Conversations carry on about ice fishing and the nice fish being caught, questions and answers about the syrup operation, mini-tours of the equipment, what everyone’s kids are doing and the ever-changing weather. The sugar shack is a meeting place this time of year.

The next truck coming up the drive is Bart and Bobby with the freshly filled tank of sap. Bart backs into a small space between the building’s porch and the firewood. The sap is pumped out of the portable tank and into another 500-gallon stainless steel-lined tank. It goes through a cone-shaped filter before pouring into the tank. They filter it twice to make sure it’s clean, they say.

Back inside, Bob opens a closet door. “Take a look in here. This is new this year. It’s RO, reverse osmosis. That filters the sap,” he says. “The refractometer showed the sap had 1.8 to 2.0 percent sugar when it came in. It’s gotten sweeter as the sap started flowing well. After the sap goes through the reverse osmosis equipment, the water is reduced and the sugar content goes up to 6 or 7 percent. The permeate (distilled water) goes into another 500-gallon tank outside and the concentrate is pumped up to a holding tank above the ceiling. From there the concentrate feeds down into the evaporator.”

When the boiling liquid reaches 219 degrees F, it is ready to be poured off and bottled. The sugar content is now 66 to 68 percent. The Chandlers have designed their own syrup containers this year. Their name is on the container along with labeling requirements and their website, chandlerssugarshack.com. They offer one-half pint to one-half gallon containers for sale to their customers.

When Monday morning rolls around, Bob and Marge are on their own and will be for the entire week.

“It’s not too bad,” Bob says. “Marge tends to the evaporator, grading and bottling by herself when I pick up sap. It doesn’t take too long to fill the tank and drive back.

“This isn’t the hardest part. The stuff that takes the most time is done before the sap starts running. We could use an animal control officer,” Bob says with a slight laugh. “Moose could be a problem in the tubes. We knew we had a leak some where because the amount of pressure didn’t match the amount of sap coming in. We didn’t find the leak until the sap was running good. The boys had to cut out a length of tube that a bear chewed and replace it with a new piece.”

Around noontime, Bart heads for the door with a piece of high tensile wire he and Bobby cut earlier. A piece of wire kinked and snapped, letting the tubing sag.

“Stop at the house and tell your mother I’m ready for lunch now,” Bob says. He started boiling at 6 a.m., and boiling will continue until around 6 p.m.

Bob occasionally rises from his chair by the evaporator to skim foam from the boiling sap or add a drop of organic canola oil to reduce the foaming. When the door to the firebox of the evaporator opens the loud boiling sounds are replaced by the roar of the fire. When the door closes, it’s quiet for only a few seconds. The sap quickly returns to a hard, noisy boil. They burn approximately six cords of wood. Some of it is slab scraps from Bob’s custom sawmill and the rest is hardwood they cut, split and stack.

The Chandlers don’t advertise for Maine Maple Sunday, which will be held this weekend, because they don’t know what the dirt road to the sugar shack will be like. They don’t want anyone to make a long trip and find out that the road isn’t easily passable. As long as the sap is running, though, they’ll be there and people are welcome to stop in. They had so many visitors last year that they had to buy more vanilla ice cream to serve with the fresh syrup. Visitors have come on Maine Maple Sunday from as far away as Texas and Kentucky.

Bob doesn’t know exactly how many gallons of syrup he expects to make this year. “They told us when we bought the RO and vacuum that this would be a transitional year. We tapped more trees, but we’ll boil less sap to make more syrup. How much we make depends on the weather and how the sap runs, and how it goes with the new equipment. We’re learning a lot this year.”

One hundred fifty taps in the beginning has increased to 1,500 taps this year, and they’re not done yet.

“The boys want to increase to around 4,000 taps next year. We’ll lease a lot with around 2,300 trees next year,” Bob said. “This evaporator isn’t big enough for what they want to do next year … but that’s a conversation for another day.”

The End is Near

9/10/2011 10:00 AM
By Robin Follette Maine Correspondent

The end of the “warm” growing season is near.

The average annual first-frost date jumps around so much now that I no longer know what it really is anymore. I’m sticking with Sept. 15. The 10-day forecast shows nights in the mid-40s.

There isn’t a lot left in the garden. Most of the extra bush beans I planted specifically to feed the soil are now … feeding the soil. Sometimes I get the “I’m done” bug and watch out garden, you’re going down.

Until the something-or-other on the three-point hitch came undone, I was a rototilling wild woman one afternoon. I called Steve, my husband, to explain to him what was wrong in hopes that he could tell me how to fix it.

“The blue one is hanging down, swinging back and forth.” He asked which blue one. I hadn’t noticed that all three are blue. He asked what was happening, or not happening. The tiller wouldn’t pick up. It turned, but I couldn’t lift it anymore. That was the end of tilling that day. I’ll never claim to be mechanically inclined.

My kitchen looks like a cannery. There are two roasters full of tomatoes in the oven, a pressure canner cooling on the sideboard, another canner heating up, jars of tomato sauce popping and salsa verde waiting to be put away. The countertops are lined with empty jars, boxes of shiny new lids and a bowl of rings, all waiting to be used.

I’m reasonably sure there’s a sink under the pile of dirty dishes in front of the window. I vaguely remember seeing the bottom of the sink for more than five minutes, though that was days ago.

The tomatillo jungle, a double-wide row of plants in one side of a high tunnel, will be pulled this week. I’m looking forward to that monstrosity being nothing but a bad memory. In their place, I’ll plant spinach, boc choy, turnip, baby beet greens and other cold weather greens.

I’m ready for the tomato plants to be, too. I have most of what I’m going to can put up. The cherry and grape tomato plants will stay in so that kids at a local elementary school can have them for snacks. I’ll save a couple of Jet Star tomato plants and two cucumber vines. The rest will be gone soon.

Opalka produced very well again this year, both inside the tunnel and outside. More cold weather greens will be planted when these plants are pulled.

Pumpkins, squash and gourds are my favorites. This year, thanks to aged poultry manure, I have beautiful pumpkins and gourds. Cinderella pumpkins are red and the warty Galeux is very warty. It’s a little too soon to be sure of what the seeded winter squash will do. They need more time than Sept. 15; I hope they get it. The winter squash I transplanted are just about ready to be cut.

For the first time ever, the watermelon have done well. They’re not as sweet as we’d like them to be because of extreme rain, but they taste good.

The onions are beautiful. I learned this year that I’ve not watered my onions enough. A very wet August finished off the onions beautifully. They’re spread out to dry now. Soon, the storage variety will hang in the dark pantry in mesh bags. The red onions will be eaten fresh and another variety will be sliced and dehydrated for use when the whole onions run out. The garlic is disappointingly small. I’m blaming the soil. The best garlic has been set aside as seed and will be planted in October.

The corn is taller than me this year. It’s nice to look out the kitchen window and see it standing there. I’m holding my breath, hoping it fills out before frost. I’m eager to have my fill of late-season corn and to cut the stalks for fall decoration. They’ll look nice bundled and sitting beside the great pumpkins on the back porch and out by the mailbox.

There’s still time for radishes, salad turnip, cold-tolerant lettuces, spinach and more out of the regular garden. When frost threatens, I’ll put low tunnels over the plants. They’ll be opened in the morning, closed in late afternoon and give me up to two months of additional growing time outside. Or maybe longer.

We’ll see how early the snow starts and if it stays or melts.
 

A Morning Walk

I don’t know if it’s late winter or early spring. I’m leaning toward spring but we still have more snow than open ground.

Steve isn’t here very often (only to eat and sleep during the week) so there isn’t a lot of time to talk about what’s going on with my business (the farm). We took a walk around the farm this morning. I pointed out where deer have been eating the tips off branches on an apple tree at the pond. That lead to us walking the tree line and discovering tips over most of the apple trees. I knew I’d be putting cages around the apricot and peach trees when I plant them this spring. It reinforced my plan and made me start thinking about paying better attention when Ava barks at 4:45 am and wants to go. She must be sensing the deers’ presence like Maggie did. Steve flagged four wild apple trees that we’ll keep and pointed out what he’s going to cut down and brush hog. If we don’t keep up with brush hogging the forest creeps into the open space.

We talked about my plans for Christmas trees and how I’ll acquire them. I was going to pull them from a certain spot in the forest to thin out the seedlings. I’ll still do that because otherwise they’ll be in worthless clumps but the trees I’ll plant will come from a spot that is more gravely so that the roots let go easier. I’m going to plant a dozen this year and six a year plus whatever needs to be replaced each year after.

I pointed out how much more space I’ll be using for the raspberry patch. We have Heritage, Latham and Kilarney. I’m going to dig up and plant Heritage suckers first. I haven’t yet decided if I’ll start a new row of Latham or not. I won’t be replanting Kilarney.

I showed him damage to roofs on two small buildings. Actually, it’s a lack of roof on both buildings because of the last heavy snow. One building is coming down, the other will be repaired. If money fell from the sky I’d replace the barn.

We talked about where the apricot and peach trees will be planted. We discussed a change in my business plans. More about that later.

Steve surprised me with plans to buy a bed shaper for me. Nice!

The strawberry plants were just delivered. I have 75 Fort Laramie plants that have runners. If I like them I’ll snip the runners to make new rows. They’re supposed to be good the first year, great for two years then decline. I’ll till them under at the end of the third year. I don’t have much to lose. I’ve never grown them before but they were only $15 for 75 plants with a sale and coupon. I’m disappointed to read on the receipt that my apricot trees are not available. It doesn’t say if they’re not available at all or just right now. I’ll email to ask.

I’m put out by the garlic. I’ll write about that next.

Steve isn’t here very often (only to eat and sleep during the week). We took a walk around the farm this morning. I pointed out where deer have been eating the tips off branches on the apple trees, how much more space I’ll be using for the raspberry patch, which wild apple trees have been flagged to save and to cut down. I showed him damage to roofs on two small buildings.
11 minutes ago · Friends Only · ·

    • Robin Follette We talked about where the apricot and peach trees will be planted and ideas of where I’ll put the Christmas trees. We discussed a change in my business plans. He surprised me with plans to buy a bed shaper for me. Nice! The strawberry plants were just delivered!

Fruit

I had Steve as my captive audience today. He can’t get away from a talkative wife while driving 70 mph on the interstate. I’ve wanted to pin him down on an orchard and today was the perfect day to do it.

“If I order apple trees, will you clear the land for them?”  I’m going to order pears, peaches, plums and maybe apricots too but apples are his weak spot. He checks on the wild apples often from mid summer through fall. We pick and preserve the apples we need. The rest are left for the wildlife – deer, bear, partridge.

“Where?”  He knows where. I’ve talked about this for years.

“Same place as always.”

He was ready to plan with me. We’ve been waiting for three very big widow makers in my chosen area to finish falling. The heavy wind has finally done the job and the trees are down.Turns out he walked out there before the ground froze and discovered it’s a lot wetter than we realized. It won’t work. Instead, we’ll plant the saplings along the edge of the grass. There were more than two dozen apple trees growing in sight of the house when we moved here. Goats and browsing cattle killed a lot of them. I let them strip the bark because the apples on those trees were of no value to us.

I don’t know yet what varieties I’ll choose. I’m looking forward to an afternoon with the Fedco Tree catalog and a pot of tea.

I’m going to expand the raspberry patch this year. I have those plants already. I’ll dig up suckers and move them into rows. We have Heritage, Latham and Kilarney.

I’ll post more about the trees when I make decisions on varieties.

Chickens

There’s a feeling of satisfaction when we put up food we’ve grown or raised ourselves. We processed 22 eight week old Cornish rock chickens today. We set up, did the work and dumped the offal in about two hours. The birds came from Welp. We are exceptionally pleased with the quality. We’d have had 100% success if it weren’t for the damned raccoons.  We didn’t gut any of the birds this year. We removed legs and breast meat. It meant losing a small amount of meat in the wings but we’re ok with that. The trade off for time saved is well worth it.  The birds were raised on grass, slept in one of the greenhouses at night and fed minimal commercial food. One bird, a hen, was too fat but the rest were perfect. The birds were excellent foragers.  I’ve done so little farm work this year that it felt good to do something farmy today.

The greenhouse that’s planted is doing well.  The small gh housed chickens at night but is now empty. I’ll turn on the water to soak the bone dry ground and get it ready for the planting.  The new gh isn’t going to be planted until February.

Bird count – seven turkeys, six ducks and 11 laying hens. We’ll process four turkeys before Thanksgiving.

Pest count – two bears, 10 raccoons and one skunk. They’ve moved on, some under their own power and others with help.

Looking for – a farmcollie puppy in the spring!

Apple Cider Jelly

CeeCee asked what I did yesterday.  After successfully killing the rototiller I picked apples and made apple crisp.  I also made a pie from the last of the Jarrahdale squash I froze last year and made a big pot of seafood chowder for supper.  I love to cook, especially when most or all of the food comes from the farm.  The scallops and shrimp came from Steve’s brother.  He’s a lobsterman.  The halibut came from my sister.  She and her husband caught it while on vacation in Alaska in July.  The potatoes were grown here.  The butter, cream and milk came a dairy 60 miles away.  Even the salt came from Maine.  As for the pepper, I don’t have a clue.

I’ve been cooking today too.  I made stuffed peppers for the freezer, apple cider jelly from wild harvested apples, and pizza crust.

Apple Cider Jelly

4 cups apple cider
7 cups sugar
2 packages of Certo

Mix the cider and sugar, bring to a full rolling boil.  Add Certo, bring back to a full rolling boil, stir constantly for one minute.  Jar.

I should put tomatoes oin the oven n to roast for sauce, more in the slow cooker with peppers and onions for stewed tomatoes and more for plain tomatoes – but I don’t feel like it.  I’ll start them in the morning and let them cook down while I work on firewood.  I need to make blueberry jam and I’m thinking about mint jelly.