Maple Syurp--The best Ever

I don't know what the deal is but last year my syrup was lousy. I had lots of it and felt my methods were, maybe short of elegant, but rustic and generally clean. Everything was the same as I have always done, but it tasted "off".

Admittedly, it was a strange year, not consistent with weather patterns of the past, so I figured the trees were unhappy, or disgruntled, maybe despondent, something had spewed forth this nonsense. I will say this, there was concern that the big maple up front had its greedy roots in the sewer line thinking that it could up its nutrient contend by latching on to my left overs----if you know what I mean. Maybe, for some reason, that was imparting a unpleasant taste--certainly an unpleasant thought. But from a biological standpoint that didn't really seem to stand. Trees have discretion and don't just take in solids. Do they? Why, it could have been in an area where there were lots of cattle. Would that make a difference, make it taste like beef, or other stuff. I put manure on the garden and the vegetables are great, not cowy.

Point is, it was not good, not robust and classic in taste, maybe suitable for making maple syrup pie (which we did) but not something one would flow over a nice stack of pan cakes and just slurp up every molecule.

So this year I was a touch reluctant to go forth, but out of habit set out the tap line in all the trees in the yard and few across the street in the towns land. Like last year the weather was all over the place. The sap ran one day in early March, then it dropped to 10 degrees and went back to winter adding a foot of snow. All my stored sap froze solid in the big container. A week later the flow was on and for two days I packed in my quota needed for my gallon of syrup.

This year I didn't set up at my brothers due to gas cost. Even going 15 miles one way to pick up collection added more cost than the syrup would be worth even at $30 a gallon. So I plied my craft right here in town, which only makes sense anyway.

One of the things different I did was to eliminate the sap from the big maple up front, the one that was suspect of being a sewer sucker. I noticed the sap in that tree, while sweet, did appear a touch off in odor. Maybe there is squirrel that expresses his did like for me by doing unmentionable things in the bucket.

As the boiling started, I noticed that the old familiar kiss of maple was there and the taste of the concentrated sap was tasting mighty fine indeed. At the end of the final boil on the stove, there was no question, it was a prime year and that next morning my pan cakes were floating in new made syrup. The thrill is back.

Ayn Rand Missionary Position

Sitting here in Wisconsin it is hard not to notice that we have a bit of a political problem. It seems that our governor is a big fan of one Ms. Ayn Rand. Now this is not a new thing. Rand and her banter has been around for along time and he, the governor, is not the first to get hung up on Atlas Shrugged. In fact, that dude from the House Of Representatives, Paul Ryan, has the same burr up his butt---that would be along with Ron Paul and his kid Rand Paul.





After hearing this connection, I couldn't help but review old Ayn's writings to see what all the fuss was even though I seemed to recall that she was a libertarian, or at least thought to be one. I have always thought that her teachings, philosophical leanings were a touch on the fascist side and when I read the statement below, it would seem she does have a hint of that.

Jonathan Chait sums up Rand’s moral philosophy, “The core of the Randian worldview, as absorbed by the modern GOP, is a belief that the natural market distribution of income is inherently moral, and the central struggle of politics is to free the successful from having the fruits of their superiority redistributed by looters and moochers.”

Let's see, does this have anything to do with the fact that something like 60% of USA wealth is now in the hands of the top 20% of the population--and the situation is getting worse. Now, this governor has just proposed that wages be cut from the scumbag teachers while the same time he is giving tax breaks to the wealthy---and, of course, some corporate welfare.

In fact, I wonder where all the corporate welfare comes in for this plan. It seems inconsistent with Ayn's writing. How about those looters on wall street and the big banks? Moochers? What do you suppose one calls the bailouts? It's not like they worked hard using their vast knowledge and hard work to get that. It was just plain fraud. They are economic terrorists for God's sake!

It is particularly confusing when one considers that the money for those bailouts is coming from the regular workers. Oh ya, "thugs" he called them. That would be the teachers with their damn masters degrees. Imagine that, the governor was a college drop out. Did you ever notice he sorta has a 15 foot stare in a 10 foot room. He is also a evangelical fanatic.

It does get hard to follow, but I think maybe it is time to give a thought to being our brother's keeper rather than funneling the wealth to the undeserving rich who for the most part are simply stealing it. A price will be paid.

Question Mark Butterfly and the Hawk Foot

Two days ago while tidying up the studio, I found the body of the Question Mark Butterfly. It was the one I had written about in March, the one that had showed up in the studio flying about thinking spring was blossoming and mating was in the air. At the time I thought he would sit it out in the studio, tolerate a little chill and then re-emerge full of vinegar in April, to go look for friends. No such luck. He was found motionless, stiff with death, lying on the floor not far where I had seen him trying to get out the window. His wings were spread as if mounted in a collection box and his legs withdrawn. I suppose he froze or possibly starved, even though I thought he might be able to have just sat it out in a comatose condition, rather in an insect hibernation. Sadly, he never got his day in the garden, but only had a brief flutter in the studio. At the time I had an option to let him outside which is where he wanted to go but I held back not wanting him to have to sit out a number of cold nights. Now I wish I would have given him liberty even if it was just for the one afternoon. The sun was warm, the sap was flowing and it probably would have been a lonely flight, but still it would have been in the wilds, his land. In the process of looking for his body so I might get an additional photo for the blog, I found this Hawk foot I had collected some years ago from a deceased bird I found next to the highway in Colorado. Like many Hawks, particularly young ones, that go after some hapless animal wondering the roads, he had a speeding auto end his brief days as a raptor of the heavens. I had not taken part in his demise and in a gesture of appreciation, I harvested the single foot as a souvenir. I have always like it because it is an interesting statement of the effectiveness of natures evolution. Always something to learn from dead things. I guess, I would have preferred both of them alive.

Art in the form of Peeps

Peeps are animal shaped marshmallowy sorta food items thought to contain nothing but sugar and some odd chemicals. I didn't know what they were until a year ago when the Riverfront Art Center advertised for art pieces made using Peeps. These Peeps come in a number of Eastery animal shapes including, chicks, bunnies but none of Jesus---which I found odd. Jesus Peeps would be, like, so epic, but maybe some sort of sacrilege. I'd have to have a Jesus Peep. There are some rather human shapes, maybe bunnies, but rather anthropomorphic, that could be costumed like the dudes at the last supper and Jesus---oh, that one woman was there too.

Anyway the idea was to make an art object out of Peeps, an art object that could make a statement, or imitate life, or just be clever, or maybe a play on words. Last year Ann and I did a Mona Peep painting for the Louvre. The head of the Mona was an actual Peep but the rest was a rather striking painting Ann did. We thought it was cool.

This year we did a Lambeau Peep which featured a football-playing Peep jumping into the stands celebrating a score, much like our Greenbay Packers did this year as we kicked some serious ass on the way to the Super bowl. The only modification to the piece that did not ring true was that fact Ann insisted on having two quarterbacks on the field and one of them had to have the number 7. She had to honor John Elway, the greatest quarterback ever.

However, most impressive was one much in the vain of this years sad political situation where we had our state taken over by some kryptofascist and as a result we now have a never-ending caravan of protest over dubious jackass political stunts.

Sure to the cause, we had a Peep show that featured the state capitol surrounded by a vast crowd of protesting Peeps. Many carried signs and entire scene emanated the struggle of working man----but they were working Peeps.

There were no Jesus setups featuring stone rolling or crucifixes, which was disappointing because there is potential there and, if I am not mistaken, is what Easter is about---even though Easter was a pagan God---I'm not sure how that all works out even after my years at the monastery---or was it a convent. Next year.

The Flower that Bloomed

Earlier, I had mentioned how the Amaryllis had, after so many years, decided it was time to go forth and make preparations to breed. This it had determined to do, because it was getting old and the folks that owned it, that would be us, gave it an appropriate amount of fertilizer to make such things happen.

I also noted that I too felt a little fertilizer in the form of a cold beer might make me bloom. Well, it can be said that I did bloom (but not breed) in that I felt good about myself, not delusional nor misguided, but comfortable in my shoes. It was, after all, a metaphor.

To slip away from the metaphor, it might be mentioned that a few beers can lead to breeding, possibly unintended, but in my case, being "fixed" has eliminated that possibility. Hey, baby, want to have a few beers and slip over to my place for a roll in the hay?" Same kinda deal, just not so elegant as the actual flower.

But smart ass as I might be, one can not but take note of this attempt to breed. Each day I get up and come down and marvel at the display put on by this Amaryllis. The only flaw in the system that I can see is that it is not outside where the accommodating insects, or I suppose humming birds, could revel in this wonder of nature.

While I like my original metaphor of noting the similarities between me and this flower, both of us blooming and all, it is now difficult to see where the commonalities are. I think it is just in the semantics rather than the visuals. It is spring and that is good.