Categories
Americana Journal Joy Notes Who Am I

A Maple Syrupy Memory

On the last day of our recent week of vacation, my wife and I stopped at a Maple Syrup Museum on Route 7 just north of Rutland, Vermont.  It was a fascinating stop for me as it brought back many childhood memories.   The museum contains many artifacts from the production of maple syrup in the late 19th and 20th centuries.  An entire wall mural was dedicated to telling the story of the production of syrup by the Native Americans of New England before settlers arrived.  This fascinating dimension of the history of the maple syrup industry was new to me and I was glad to see it featured prominently.  One of the most captivating displays was a hand-carved diorama depicting the gathering of maple sap using a team of horses and a sled with gathering tank on top.   In the same diorama is a representation of a sap-boiling shanty in the woods.  The first 3 pictures above are of this diorama.    The last two pictures are from an even bigger diorama depicting lumbering before tractor power.  The museum is a great stop for maple lovers and those who remember making syrup.

I have a very early childhood memory of assisting in the gathering of sap on the top of the hill above Twin Elms Farm.   Deep in the woods plot, there was an old shed devoted to boiling sap in the spring. My father and grandfather had traded the horses for a tractor the year I was born.   But, for the spring that I remember, it was too muddy in the woods to use the tractor for gathering sap.  Early tractors were not the behemoths we are used to today.    So my grandfather and father made arrangements to borrow a team of horses and use them to pull the sled and gathering tank.    I remember riding the sled with its metal gathering tank on top from the house up to the top of the hill and into the woods.   I recall the old wooden tank next to the boiling shed into which the gathered sap was dumped from the gathering tank.    I remember the old arch, as it was called, inside the shed.   It was simply two rows of concrete blocks, just wide enough apart to fit the large pans on the top.   The two pans were placed end to end on the arch.    The long slabs or poles of wood we burned were inserted into the arch underneath the pans at one end. The fire and heat traveled the length of the two pans– which must’ve been 10-12 feet — and the smoke exited through a stack at the far end.    The freshest sap was inserted in the pan nearest the chimney, the cooler one; the boiled-down syrup was removed from the first pan, the hotter one.   We did not use wooden buckets, as the diorama pictures, but galvanized metal ones instead.

This old syrup shanty on the hill was deserted before many years had passed.    After that, my father continued boiling sap on a smaller scale in a single pan over a smaller arch.   I remember helping and  trying to keep it clean and light colored.    I have many other memories that go with the traditions of maple syrup making at Twin Elms Farm too.   I remember loving to drink the sap straight from the tree.   I would go down to the maple tree in the front lawn and tip the sap bucket to get a drink.   There was just a hint of delicious flavored sweetness.

After the sap had been boiled down in the pans over the arches, my mom would “finish off” the syrup over the kitchen stove.    I don’t remember seeing it happen, but I was told that sometimes this released so much moisture that the wallpaper had come loose.   She poured milk into the syrup to help boil out the impurities.    I sometimes tasted the creamy, foamy skimmings, though I don’t think Mom approved of that.    I remember each year we would have a contest at stirring maple sugar.   Mom would boil down some syrup even further until it was just the right consistency for making sugar candy.  I think it was right when it would spin a hair from the spoon.     Then she would ladle it into bowls and we would begin stirring our bowlful.   The faster you stirred, the lighter colored and finer textured your sugar would be.   That was the goal.    Of course, the most delightful part was eating it.   I preferred eating it while it was soft and still do.   JoAnne learned about stirring maple sugar while she was dating me. She learned to love eating it too and still does, much more than me. I bought her some at the museum.

At the Vermont museum they had taste samples of different grades of maple syrup.  I checked them out!    I remember during maple syrup season on the farm, once in a while, Mom would serve us a small dish of maple syrup for dessert– nothing with it — just served to eat with the spoon.   I loved it and I still can eat maple syrup by itself.    Mom also prepared syrup for us to pour on snow if the weather made snow available.  This was also a delightful candy treat. We called it wax.

The museum had maple cream to sample also, which is the most delicious stuff ever, but correspondingly expensive.     As we left the museum, JoAnne and I just wanted to find a restaurant that served pancakes with the real thing—maple syrup—for a topping!  At home, we never ate pancakes any other way.

Categories
Journal Who Am I

My home church in Haskinville, NY

I can easily recognize both of my grandfathers in this old photo
I can easily recognize both of my grandfathers in this old photo

(I found this version of the story of my home church’s influence on my life while reviewing an old sermon.  This vignette was part of the introduction to a 2005 sermon.)

Where I grew up it was ten miles to the nearest bank or full-sized grocery store.  The hamlet that our family considered home was about seventeen houses and we lived almost 2 miles outside of town..  Like many rural hamlets it had formerly had a couple stores, a gun shop  and a cheese factory.  But by the time I grew up all that was left was a small convenience type store and a saw mill, both barely holding on.  Dad would buy us Fawn orange soda at the store on the way to the infrequent night bass fishing expeditions.   The hamlet had no fire department.  The only organization in town was the small country Wesleyan church.  It was a 19th century clapboard building with no rest rooms.   It held about 100 people when there was standing room only.    I’ve seen it that full a couple times for Christmas and Easter programs.  But usually it was the Sunday morning gathering place of about 55 souls, a generous percentage of them children like me.  Since most of the people were farmers and didn’t go anywhere,  those fifty-some souls were usually present almost the whole 50 Sundays per year that the church was open.  (It usually closed two weeks for camp meeting.)  The local historians told us that there had been a Wesleyan church in that town for almost a hundred years already when I was a boy.   Pastors came and went frequently over the years.  Most were good men, but at least one some 40 years before had caused a scandal which was still used as an excuse to stay away by the less religious in the village.

As I reflect back, I think of the many ways that little church had shaped my life.  The shaping had started long before I was born.  Years before,  a traveling evangelist had come through and my Grandfather, Homer Jones, became a Christian.   The Jones family had farmed in that town since the civil war. My maternal grandfather, Samuel Isaman, was a new-comer to that town having bought a farm about 1920.   He was of Lutheran background.  When his only daughter, Dorothy, was deathly sick with pneumonia he knelt in the cow stable and prayed for her.  She recovered and  he dedicated himself to serve God faithfully in that little country church.   So my parents met at Sunday School where they remember seeking to outdo each other in childhood Sunday School contests.

So, I am told, I was taken to that little church when I was only days old.  I grew up in the habit of going to church and Sunday school on Sunday.  Sunday in that town was the Lord’s day.  Very few people worked on that day except for the daily farm chores.   In that little church I learned that the Bible was God’s truth, the guidebook for our lives and the roadmap to heaven.  I learned that love and forgiveness, charity and honesty were virtues because they were God-like.   I discovered that being unselfish was the  true measure of spirituality and that it wasn’t easy because self-centeredness came much more naturally.   I valued reading and music and speaking because they were part of church.  I learned many Bible verses by heart there and they still come back to me.

Looking back, that little church was responsible for so much of who I am.  And I wasn’t the only one similarly shaped.  The little place can boast a whole line of spiritual leaders over several decades who grew up there.   Long before large churches with snappy mission statements were the vogue, it seemed to know how to teach us to love God and love others and it made disciples.

Categories
Journal Who Am I

Some Favorite Snacks

I have a reputation as one who likes to eat.   So one might expect an occasional post about good food.   Here’s a fun one about my favorite snacks.   What are yours?

Favorite crackers – Ritz Whole Wheat

Top 10 Favorite things to put on Ritz whole wheat crackers

  1. Judy and Louise Holcomb’s blueberry jam
  1. Carol Griffin’s sweet pepper relish
  1. cheddar cheese – tonight’s Cracker  Barrel Vermont sharp white was excellent
  1. JoAnne Jones’  bread and butter pickles– her Grandma Wilcox’s recipe I believe
  1. Jiff low fat creamy peanut butter — actually most any peanut butter will do
  1. JoAnne Jones’ strawberry jam
  1. Wensleydale Cranberry cheese
  1. My mother’s icicle pickles which I make
  1. My mother’s grape leaf dill pickles which my wife makes
  1. pepper jack cheese

Top 10 (11) Favorite fruit snacks (after pies and jam)

  1. bananas
  1. raisins
  1. dried fruit trail mix
  1. peaches   (Peaches and vanilla ice cream are really good together.)
  1. blueberries
  1. mangoes   (Mango salsa is a treat.)
  1. strawberries
  1. fig bars
  1. pears
  1. raspberries
  2. I can’t believe I forgot apples.  I love apples.  Apple pie, Applesauce, Baked apples, Apple grunt, Apple muffins, Apple coffee cake (JoAnne has a great recipe).  Okay, I don’t count too well.
Categories
Journal Joy Notes Who Am I Wisdom

How to make a long winter shorter

An early morning shot from an upstairs window
An early morning shot from an upstairs window

Like many northerners, I enjoy seeing a little snow around Christmas but soon afterward begin to wish it were springtime.  But, alas, there are still three months until spring if it arrives on time.  Then if we have a cold snowy February like this year, it seems like winter goes on forever.  So how does one make the time fly by?   I was thinking about that today.   My wife and I must be doing a particularly good job this year as I have hardly had time to wish for spring yet.    Here are my recommendations for making a long winter shorter. 

First, be sure to make a big deal of Christmas and by all means, don’t tear all the decorations down on Dec. 26th.   For ourselves, we never take any decorations down before Epiphany (Jan. 6) which is the traditional end of the Christmas season in the Christian Church.   Then, since I invite children from church over to see my trains around the tree and there are usually some children who haven’t come by Jan. 6, I leave the trains up longer until all have had a chance to see them.   So what if it is sometimes February by the time I get it all put away. 

Second, I suggest having some winter-only hobbies.  We have two.  One is feeding the birds.  Here in rural CT, bears will tear your feeder apart, I’m told, if you feed birds while they are awake anyway, so bird feeding makes a great winter hobby.   It’s also a very cheerful thing watching chickadees, juncos, cardinals, nuthatches, woodpeckers, etc. outside your window.    Occasionally a hawk may visit seeking a fat junco for a meal.  This year I have a cute and perky Carolina wren visiting regularly.

Another activity that JoAnne and I save for winter weeks is putting together jigsaw puzzles.   We both enjoy the challenge.  After we complete one, we carefully bag up the puzzle and put it back in the box for storage.  We’ll get it out and put it together again in a year or two.  Some become favorites and go together faster every year.   Essentials for this hobby are a spare dedicated table spot that doesn’t need to be disturbed often, a small collection of puzzles you like in sizes you like, and a handy puzzle lamp.   We like 500, 750 and 1000 piece sizes the best.  

 

In addition to our work at church and our interaction with our daughter and her family, these 3 winter pastimes keep the cold days passing quickly.   Before we know it, it will be spring.   And I haven’t even resorted to pulling out the seed catalogs to make garden plans yet—well, maybe a few times.        

Categories
Americana Joy Notes Who Am I

Our manger scene has a history

"A Savior has been born to you."
“A Savior has been born to you.”

Our outdoor manger scene is an integral part of our family Christmas celebration.  JoAnne and I originally made it while pastoring at our first church in Bentley Creek PA.  Our church was having a live nativity that year.   The animals were staying in the little shed/stable we had constructed on the lawn in front of the church and parsonage for a couple days as there were two live performances separated by a few days.  I was the caretaker.   JoAnne and I thought it would be a shame to have the animals there with no representation of the Christmas story, the reason for the celebration.   So we made the manger scene to place in the stable with the animals when the actors were not present.   One corner of one of the figures still shows the marks where I set it a little too close to the donkey and he reached around and chewed on it.

JoAnne found the figures she used for models in a coloring book we had purchased for Keely.    She used projection to transfer the forms to the 4 by 8 exterior plywood sheets that I had purchased.    Then I cut them out with a jigsaw and we painted them.   I  then devised a simple stand system that holds them upright securely but can be dismantled easily with a screwdriver, hopefully an electric one.    The current manger is not the original one.

Since then, every year that they were not being used for their original purpose, we have put them up in our front lawn for our Christmas display.    In Kirkville, we almost never actually put the baby in the manger as there was so often much snow you wouldn’t have been able to tell if the baby was under it all anyway.   Now they are with us at our third parish and still helping us to spread the news of Jesus’ coming; God’s greatest gift to us all.

Categories
Americana Journal Who Am I

Dating at the Fair

 

Keeping a tradition

One of the first dates I asked JoAnne to go on was to the Steuben County Fair.  We remember eating spaghetti at an Italian stand where I learned how to twirl spaghetti on my fork against a spoon rather than cut it up.   After that, one of our annual dates was a trip to the New York State Fair.   While we lived in Syracuse, we kept this tradition going by visiting the fair annually.   We love ogling all the exhibits.  JoAnne seeks out the needlework shows since that is one of her hobbies.  I love the farm animal and farm equipment exhibits because of my farm upbringing.    Both of us enjoy historical and travel exhibits and some vendors exhibits, though there are always more of these latter type than anyone can handle.   We admit, we missed our traditional trip to the NYS Fair this year.   But when we heard about the Big E, an exposition for all six New England states, we jumped at the chance to go.   Maybe this would be much like the Fair. 

The Big E

JoAnne and I arrived through gate 10 in the late morning on Friday, Sept. 27.   It was about the only day we were free to go.  But the weather was perfect and it was the day the big horses were showing –perfect for me.   We start with the nearest farm building which today houses an eclectic collection of alpacas, goats, and sheep.   We ask a question or two of an alpaca keeper and go through the wool exhibit too.   Outside is the butter sculpture.  Now there is a memory—

Categories
Journal Joy Notes Who Am I

Features I am enjoying about living in Connecticut

If you ask me the proverbial question, “Is the glass half empty or half-full?”  I’m the kind of guy who always answers, “Half-full of course!”  Count your blessings.  So, while I could talk about things we miss from New York, my mind tends to focus instead on what I am finding delightful about living in Connecticut.   Here’s a partial list. 

  1. Number one is spending so much more time with our daughter, son-in-law and wonderful little grandson Sam.   He loves holding my hand and walking around the house at this stage.  I better enjoy it while it lasts.  He is so huggable.   Now I see him about three times per week on the average.   JoAnne watches him two days per week and loves it.  She is a great Grandma, and a very creative care-giver for Sam.   
  2. The church God has given us to serve in our semi-retirement, Copper Hill UMC, is a joy.  I love country churches with history.  This one was organized in 1816 and we have already met many delightful new friends who are receiving our ministry with joy too. 
  3. I wear jeans and T shirts a lot more.  While I was working full-time, I only wore such relaxed apparel for an occasional gardening stint or when on vacation in the Adirondacks.  Now I get to wear it multiple times per week.  It feels good.
  4. There is more sunshine.   After all, Syracuse is tied with Portland, OR for most number of cloudy days so I should have expected it.  But this year, even the folks from CT are saying the weather has been great so I think it has been unusually nice.  We are loving it.  
  5. I am walking more.   The parsonage is about 15 minutes’ walk from a forest preserve with a great uphill trail that has been providing good exercise.  So far I’ve only lost about 5 pounds but I’m in much better shape.  We have lots of good conversations with people we meet along the way too.
  6. Since I am a history buff, I’m loving living where the timeline of local history commonly stretches back another 100 years to 150 years compared to Western NY.   This area of Connecticut began to be settled in the late 1600’s.   For a history buff, it’s like adding one-third more stuff to the pages.  Instead of 2 centuries of local history, there are three.   
  7. The area of CT where our parsonage is located is very rocky.  Our lawn has rock ledges and walls.  Our cellar is a rock foundation.   Walking in the forest preserve, we see huge rock outcroppings.  It reminds us some of the Adirondacks where we often vacationed when we lived in Syracuse.   I had a rock collection as a kid too.  
  8. God has blessed us with a parsonage that fits us very well.  JoAnne and I both have separate roomy offices in it, something we probably could not have afforded if we had purchased a home.  It has lawn and garden spots, a garage, and bedroom space for guests too.   It has also provided more than enough DIY projects to keep me happy. 
Categories
Journal Joy Notes Who Am I

A Personal Testimony

While I usually file my sermons in the sermon section, I decided to include this one here for two reasons.  First, because it is my first sermon at Copper Hill UMC.   Second, because it is very informative about me personally and will be a great addition to the Who Am I section of my blog.

First sermon at Copper Hill UMC

Intro

As I thought about how to begin this morning, I decided that there was not a better way than to introduce myself by giving my testimony—the story of my own Christian journey.  

Telling the story of God’s action in our lives is a Biblically recommended practice anyway, isn’t it.   In the passage Judy read, the servant of Abraham tells of God’s activity in helping him to be successful in finding a wife for Isaac.   In a sense, much of Holy Scripture is the inspired testimony of God’s action among his people, recorded for us to read and profit from later.  In the book of Revelation, in the verses that I read, John tells us that one of the weapons of the Christian church – one of the means that it can use to overcome the enemy of our souls is testimony – reciting to one another the work of God in our lives.  Testimony has several benefits.  Telling others what God has done has a way of confirming it for us too.   Testimony encourages and inspires others as well.  When one person testifies, it helps us to understand how God works and what he can do in our own lives too.  

My prayer is that this abbreviated story of my Christian journey will not only help you get to know me but also inspire and encourage your own Christian walk. 

A Christian beginning

Object: a family farm needlework or picture of my extended family

A Christian home

My journey began in on a family farm in rural Western NY.  I had the privilege of being born into a Christian family.  On Sundays, not only both my parents, but all four of my grandparents would be at our church.  I was told that I first accepted Jesus into my heart at age 6 kneeling in the living room next to my mom.  

.  

Hospitality to God’s Word at six

Key verse:  “He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. 12 But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” Jn. 1:11-12 ESV

It was an important beginning of giving hospitality to God’s word, God’s work and God’s Spirit in my life.  The Bible teaches us that each of us has an opportunity to do that.  The bible is using a hospitality metaphor.   As when someone comes to the door of our home, we can either let them in our shut the door, so it is with God’s teaching in our lives.   The Bible teaches that God I as one standing at the door of our hearts and knocking.  If we will give Him entrance he will come in (Rev. 3:20).  

Growing in faith in a small church like this one

Object: Haskinville plate

Childhood Sunday school

The church I grew up in was a lot like this one. 

Categories
Journal Joy Notes Who Am I

Moving Day part two

Our new house in the country
Our new house in the country

 

Monday July 1 was long anticipated.  We arrived at our new parsonage at 7:50 am to await the moving truck’s arrival.   We had been told they would come between 8 and 10 am.   That was the same window we were given when they packed us out and they had arrived about 9:30 am.   But this time, we had no sooner gotten out of our car than the big orange cab of the Allied truck crept slowly into view.   We were just in time.  

Organizing helps

JoAnne’s organization proved extremely helpful.  She had made sure all packers labeled every box with a big letter and a number.  The letter designated the room of the new parsonage where the movers could deposit it.  The number was used to keep track of contents which were also written in brief on the box and on a list.   The rooms all had big letters posted to identify them.  This organization greatly speeded up the unloading process.  It has also enabled us to find things we needed without unpacking everything.  JoAnne also tried color-coding the boxes with markers but that proved not so useful.   JoAnne and I mostly served as traffic directors to guide the larger pieces to their intended spots.  We had made drawings ahead so we each knew what the plan was and we also had it posted on the wall. 

Humor and hospitality

Humor helps so much when packing and unpacking household goods.  We joked with both crews all day.   They are hard pressed to get things done this time of year and it is very hard and physical work.   We bought subs at Subway for the crew that unpacked us.  It took them until about 6 pm.    By then the rooms were piled with boxes and the garage door would hardly close.   

We have felt blessed by God

We have felt very blessed in this move.  God provided financially to help us move through gifts from both churches and the CNY Wesleyan district.  Very little was damaged in the move.  We have enjoyed the hospitality of our daughter and son-in-law for two weeks in the middle and played with our grandson everyday too.   Personally, God has impressed me with more than one special verse in the process of the move.  All this has helped us combat the emotional grief of leaving Kirkville after a 22 year stay.   Thank you all for your prayers. 

Categories
Journal Joy Notes Who Am I

Moving Day

DSCF4248 (640x468)

Race to get it done

JoAnne and I have been so busy preparing for this moving day that I have not been able to chronicle it as I wanted.  Now it has come and gone so I have a little more time while we are between homes to think about it.  We have been driving ourselves for weeks to thin out our material possessions and pack up the remaining ones.   While we hired Fox Hollow Movers, the Syracuse affiliate of Allied Van Lines, to do the actual moving, we were to pack all the small stuff.   But when you have lived at one location for 22 years, you accumulate a lot.  Things come in a little at a time and very little goes out.   We scrambled to empty attics—we had things stored in the church attic and in the garage loft—and systematically attempted to reduce our hoard of books by at least one-third.  We gave away things privately, had a yard sale, donated to the Salvation Army, consigned things to antique dealers, and trashed and recycled mounds.   The closer moving day was, the easier it was to part with things.   The move helped bring the relative value of things into proper perspective.

Thank you to our friends

We could not have completed the task without much help from friends.   Kim O’s neighbors, Steve and Sandy, adopted our cat.  Ben Mackey brought us lots of boxes.  John and Josiah Durfee came twice to help dig daylilies among other tasks.   Jerry, Brad, John and Josiah helped me pack the garage on the day before the truck came.   Shaun and Mark hauled junk away.   And JoAnne had many helpers too, but especially Cindy, Donna, Kathy and Kim O.   Eva sent food and Cindy sent food.  Kim gave us a place to sleep and a great breakfast the last night.   I’m sure I have forgotten someone, but my point is; we had so much great help and we are very thankful.  We felt loved by the family of God through all the help that came.

God’s sustaining promises

 It has been difficult to leave.  It brought tears when I closed the door of the house for the last time, a symbol of the deeper stresses of the move.  One day as I was running one of the many errands, I stopped at Sacred Melody (Parable) bookstore for something and as I looked up at the display above and in back of the counter, there was a plaque with this verse.   “You will go out with joy and be led forth with peace (Isa. 55:12 NASB).   I knew the message was meant for me and it was an elevator for my spirit that day.   Indeed it has proven very true in so many ways.   Even the peace lily in the kitchen bloomed on the last day we were there. 

Moving Day long but successful

The truck and burly crew of four pulled in about 9:30 AM.   They set to work on the garage and then the office.  The leader cataloged everything and helped lift only when he was needed as he was busy writing and directing.   The other three packed the truck steadily.  JoAnne and I joked with them and prayed for them as the day progressed.   JoAnne was on the phone with Joyce as the crew was having trouble getting the piano out.  JoAnne and Joyce prayed and JoAnne let the crew know they had done so; just then the piano cleared the obstacle.  We ordered pizza for lunch and had grace with the crew before eating all together.  For supper, Cindy brought hot beef stew and I picked up subs so we said grace again and had supper together also.   The office told the crew to finish it all in one day even though it was estimated at a day and one half work for a crew.   One extra man came to help in mid-afternoon.   The whole job didn’t wrap up until nearly 9 PM.    It was an exhausting day, but all our goods were on that truck.    The house looked so different.   We had planned and worked to make it happen and now the first big step had been taken.  

Off to CT

The next morning, after a great breakfast at Kim’s, it was back to the house to pack the two cars.  The moving company could not take my daylilies on the truck because of NYS rules, so I had to make other plans.  I chopped them into smaller sections and took a sample of most of them in the trunk of the Buick to plant later. Then I planted three more at Kim’s house and gave lots of samples away too.  The plan worked but it took up much of the Buick trunk space.  This meant I had to really be a good packer with the remaining space.  But everything fit in.   Kim helped me label all the keys.  After prayer with Kim and greetings to Sue next door, we were off, JoAnne followed me in her new-to-us 2010 Honda Civic while I led the way in my Buick road-eater, as I call it.  All went very smooth except for one scary merge into the halfway point rest stop outside Albany.    JoAnne had a hard time getting across traffic but she made it.  The rest of the way went well.  Nearing West Hartford, I found the short-cut to Mark and Keely’s that I had been looking for too, cutting off 5 minutes more from the expected Grandma commute.  Thank you for your prayers for the journey.   Mark and Keely and Sam welcomed us with hugs and kisses and JoAnne checked in with Kim.   We were soon tucked in bed in Connecticut.    One half of the move was complete.