It’s been a while. I’ve attempted to record a few things here in recent weeks, but each time resulted in a few words that didn't amount to much. Maybe my near daily practice of capturing a sentence or two on Instagram has stunted my ability to string more meaningful paragraphs together. Likely.
We’re in the midst of the longest sugaring season Adam and I can recall. Normally it’s touch and go this far south in New England, with some years seeing only a 2-3 week prime season, but this year it’s been a solid month so far with a full week of perfect sugaring weather in the forecast.
When I think of all the work that happens in our lives, from growing and hunting food to preserving it to building things to fixing things to making things and so much more, Adam and I seem to fall into a natural division of labor. This isn’t by design and not even something we discuss much, but it is our way. We don’t tackle each project equally, but rather almost everything we do is kind of led by one of us while the other plays a supporting role. For instance, when Adam is felling trees, I wait until they're on the ground and he's bucked the logs, then I’ll step in and help from there. When he’s building or fixing something I tend to be the tool girl, the cheering section, the steady stream of food and drink provider. He hunts the meat, I help break it down once it’s home. Likewise, in the garden, well, let’s just say Adam would take fifty bucks to the farmer’s market every Friday if I was not tending a garden. But given that I do initiate growing food, he’s happy to lend time and muscle as I need it. Same thing with all that food coming into the house after it’s harvested, he’ll pitch in every time. Though also every time, as we make our way through yet another bushel of peppers or tomatoes, he’ll say that he can’t imagine putting so much effort into fruits and vegetables if I wasn’t in the picture, but he’s glad that I set the pace. And don’t even get him started on the intricacies of knitting. One time he knit something for Emily and his frustration over the slow stitch-by-stitch pace literally put a permanent bend in the needles. He is slightly more tolerant when it comes to sewing.
I could go on, but you get the idea. We all have our strengths and inclinations.
When we sat down this winter to work on some goals for the year, under the (loose) category of “relationship development” we both wanted to up our focus on harvesting wild food – together. Probably not commonly suggested in couples therapy, but maybe it should be. As much as Adam resists the domesticated act of growing vegetables, he is at home in the woods. Foraging the landscape comes easily for him. I’m equally game, and foraging with him is wise because his awareness is enviable, never missing a leaf, bark, root, or fungi that might be deemed food or medicine.
Maple sap is one of the first wild foods we harvest each year, and more than any other work we do, sugaring is our common ground. From start to finish we work side by side, each willing and able to do any of the tasks involved. We’re in step, picking up where the other left off. There is no discussion about who should do what or how we should do it. It all flows effortlessly and each year we remark how easy it is to sugar together. In the garden he hangs back, waiting for me to set the pace and present what needs to be done next. When he’s doing chainsaw work, I hang back, clueless about come-alongs (come-a-long?), sharpening files, and bar and chain oil. We’re fine with this dynamic, even finding purpose and comfort in it. But for those few weeks in February and March, tapping trees and hauling sap and checking levels and tending the fire, we couldn’t be more in sync. And that’s pretty nice, too.
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I hope to write more soon, but for now, that's the late-winter dispatch from our world. Miraculously offered in more than two sentences.