Marching Through March

Heads down, comfort food intake up, the march through March is a dreary one here in Vermont. A few weeks ago, we were fortunate enough to have a few days of warm weather that resulted in an early mud season and a far too early appetite for Spring. One morning we sat outside in the snowy/icy/muddy driveway with cups of coffee and let some sun on our face. The rest of our day was perfect only because of that glorious half hour. 


Now, we find ourselves with a brand new foot of snow covering our hills and town and everything.  The promises of sun and seedlings are ever present motivation to wait for May. But when March delivers two helpings of Nor' Easter in a week, life gets suddenly demoralized and the farmers feel like they are stuck in a time warp. Every day Charlie goes outside to work on the building of our little greenhouse, but it's starting to feel like warm days will never come.

The ducks, however, are none the wiser. Having learned what the outside was for the first time in mid-November, they have yet to discover what warmth feels like. They happily wiggle in and out of their house all day long, tunneling their beaks into the snow and squawking the day away in absolute merriment. We, however, cannot wait to have them out on pasture, eating grass and bugs to their heart's content. 

We have been trying, in earnest, to entertain ourselves through this gray month. We attended our first town meeting and voted for a few things. We have 6 measly taps on a group of sugar maples high up in the hill. Every day that the temperature breaks 32 degrees one of us hauls some buckets up there to collect the sap and let the weight pull us back down. We boiled on our old wood stove this past weekend and produced TWO WHOLE PINTS of syrup! Thanks to our friends for letting us borrow their syrup thermometer - a tool we desperately needed. And when we're feeling particularly resentful of our cabin fever, we strap on some heavy boots and carry our skis up the hill to do a run or too. It clears some of that stale energy that tends to gather in your veins all winter. 


Here's hoping for an abrupt arrival of spring.

Ever yours in snow, 


Take Stock Farm