The warmth of wood

The fresh fallen snow blanketed the east field as I looked out the kitchen window this morning. Four inches of the soggy cotton clung to the firewood pile that is being worked up for next winter.

I guess firewood has been kind of way of life since my earliest memories. At an early age I remember helping my Grandfather and Father at the back of the saw rig, sawdust in my eyes and the constant ring in my ears. Working near the spinning saw was a dangerous job, but it also marked a sort of "coming-of-age" in my family. Today, chainsaws have become the primary tool in the firewood trade, but the hum of the old Farmall tractor and the song of the saw can still be heard in early fall as we work up the dry limb wood for the cook stove.

After a couple of years of burning wood that was not quite dry enough, we try to make cutting and splitting our firewood a high priority. We'll let the sun and wind of the upcoming Spring and Summer dry our wood again this year. I try to have about six cord of hardwood ready for the "people house" and about two cord of softwood ready for the sugar house.

For generations rural farm families have carefully managed their woodlots, taking what was weak or dying, and leaving the healthy growing trees. In the early days here in Maine, this natural fuel for heating the farmhouse was nearly as important as the vegetables in the garden or the hay in the meadows. A winter with little or no firewood meant hardship that cannot be imagined by us today. Often, the kind gesture of a neighbor would provide the wood needed to keep from freezing to death, but just barely.

In recent years, much like in the early years of my life, oil has become a natural resource with an uncertain future. We do have a fuel tank in our cellar, but the oil boiler has not been fired in months. The quiet energy released by my ax and our fire provides security that cannot be measured. Needless to say I have continued to value the trees in the our woodlot, their future decided by me and my saw alone.

The Gatherer

The Hunter is out tending to the herd. He passed the torch to me for my first post!

The wind and driving rain we experienced last night, not only took down a stately white pine, but revealed the remnants of last year's herb garden. Seeing the workable soil brought thoughts of cold frames and planting peas, but I was quickly reminded by a late afternoon sleet storm, that it is still February. We are however, awaiting our FedcoSeed order so we can start filling up our southside kitchen windows with seed trays and the aroma of potting soil.

Our family works throughout each day either making a piece of our own a little better or keeping up with all that we have put before us. Today we canned our first 1 1/2 gallons of Fancy Grade Maple Syrup. Due the unseasonal upcoming weather, we decided to finish our first batch on the cookstove. Supper tonight was pancakes with blueberry from the Meadow picked in August, bacon from last fall's Litchfield Fair pig (caught by our daughter in the pig scramble) and this morning's freshly finished Maple Syrup.

Maple sugar season is underway

With the warming days of late winter comes the maple sugaring season here in Maine. After years of boiling sap under the stars, we have moved inside this year and we are looking forward to having a fun and productive season. We are trying to produce 25 gallons of syrup this year if the weather allows. Our two cord of sugarwood has been cut since last summer and is awaiting the good sap runs of March. We are burning mostly pine and fir this year, hoping for some hot fires.

It takes about 40 gallons of sap to produce 1 gallon of syrup so there is certainly some serious boiling to be done. The early settlers would boil for days in cast iron kettles over open fires to produce this sweet treat that has been sought after for generations.

Our stainless steel pans and fine filters will make our syrup look clearer than in days of old, but then again the smoke and ashes falling into the syrup must have added some good flavor.

Kidding season has arrived at Juniper Hill Farm

The barn has become busy with the arrival of our first goat kids of the season. This winter our goat herd that started at 14, has swelled to 21 with several more kids expected soon. Our small herd of dairy goats, Nubian and Alpine crosses, provide our family with fresh milk and homemade cheese, along with the enjoyment of seeing these loving creatures grow and prosper.

As you might expect, with 10 to 15 kids born here each spring, some of our young will be sold to other prospective goat keepers while we have kept a few each year to grow our herd. This year we will be producing goat's milk soap and more kinds of cheese for our own use and for sale. We have found that goats are sized right for a small farm such as our's and our children are always willing and able to help care for our herd.

I will add more photos soon so you can see the activity that happens in the barn at feeding time. It's a lot of fun. See you soon.

Juniper Hill Farm - Building a Family Farm

Welcome to the Juniper Hill Farm's first blog. Today we want to celebrate the birth of another "family farm". Not a four hundred acre spread with a weathered farmhouse and a leaning barn, but a little 20 Acre lot in Bowdoin, Maine with a place for all: man, woman, child, animal and plant alike.

In the coming weeks and months we will let you folks share in the challenges and rewards that come with "doing for ourselves" as we like to call it. You might call our farm a "subsistence" farm. Growing our own food and fuel and doing for ourselves in any way we can. If we're lucky and Mother Nature allows, maybe we have enough to share or sell, maybe enough to pay the taxes, or maybe not.

While many family farms have been lost to development pressure, many more were simply left by our ancestors, in search of a better life. Easier maybe in the cities, but certainly not better.

I believe that those families that never left the backcountry farms have a greater appreciation for family ties and the duty to continue a family tradition of hard work, faith and dedication to the land. We hope you enjoy the thoughts, as random as they may be from time to time, and we hope to hear from you soon.