IT'S BEEN A HARD WINTER

ANDY AT THE SUGAR SHACK IN A BETTER TIME; APRIL 2008

Friday, 32 degrees F.  Wind N, light with stronger gusts.  The sky is clear, the humidity 72% and the barometer high, at 30.45".  The snow dumped on us on Wednesday will begin to disappear today.
   We went out to Andy and Judy's camp yesterday evening for supper.  They were going to be with us for Easter Sunday dinner, but have decided to give up on maple sugaring without boiling down any sap this year, and go home for Easter.  The last snowstorm, with another foot and more added to the frozen slush still in the woods was the tipping point I guess, and I can't blame them.  It has all been a futile struggle this season.     If they stayed another couple of weeks they would undoubtedly get some sap and make some syrup, but they have things to do back home, and really miss the grandchildren. And they're tired.
   I took some photos with the new Canon camera I bought yesterday but discovered it didn't come with  a cord that connects the camera to the computer, and the one from my Nikon that I had to scrap doesn't fit.  I don't know how the manufacturer can sell the camera without one but there was sure none in the box.  The Nikon, which has been nothing but trouble, finally wouldn't work at all and the warranty was up.  It was the worst purchase I have made since our 1979 Ford Fairmont, and that's saying a lot.  Hope the new camera is better, but things aren't starting out well.
   I haven't checked with any other of the maple sugaring operations but I am sure they are all tired, disgusted and ready to pack it in as well,  but some will tough it out.  It has been one hell of a winter, taking its toll on animals, plants and humans.
   At Andy's Grocery in town yesterday a guy that I didn't recognize because he had grown a winter's beard hollered out to me, "The turkeys are all gone," to which I answered, "we've already bought a ham."
   He said, "No, no,  the turkeys out by your deer stand."  They had been doing O.K. until about three weeks ago when Joan and I had last seen them along the road.  I asked him what had happened, assuming they had ended up on someone's dinner table.
   "They froze to death, sitting up in the pine trees, the whole flock.  There they were roosting on some lower branches but they didn't fly when I walked up so I picked up a stick and poked one and it fell off, stone dead.  The rest of them too,"he said.  I assume they got caught in one of the recent wet, freezing blizzards.
   It's been a hard winter.