Life in Vermont; From Geoff Gevalt's blog:
The sap began running last Wednesday, March 21. The latest the first sap has been in years. I had gotten the new rig all set up — new pan, arch with fire bricks and new stove pipe — and we had our first boil Thursday night the 22nd. Oldest daughter Anna and her friends helped out.
Naturally I had to go away this weekend: The Soccer Tourney From Hell in Baltimore Maryland. If Jacob’s soccer club suggests one more tourney out of state, I think I will scream. Teams from as far away as North Carolina and Vermont got to spend the day Saturday watching the rain — all games not scheduled for artificial turf (read: most) were cancelled. Eventually the organizers cancelled the tournament for most of the age groups.
An interesting cultural note: We wandered around Baltimore Saturday, stopping long enough to eat some oysters and crab cakes. A few of went to Lexington Market, an eclectic collection of booths and stalls in a block-long enclosed building with people selling everything from ham hocks to mangos, fried chicken to soups, chitlins to sausage. A lot of spots have stools or bars where you can get a crab cake and a beer or, for that matter, just about any type of food imaginable, except, perhaps, French on white table cloths. I lived in Baltimore for several years a long time ago. I used to eat at least one meal a day (with beer) at Lexington Market.
For me, the experience was great; while it was changed it was also the same; familiar stalls and businesses that were still there, after 25 years. Some of the folks I was with, though, noticed something else: We were the only white people for miles. They were discomfited by that; they were made uneasy. “Hey,” said one of the parents, “I’m a seventh generation Vermonter from a small little town without any black people.”
Fact is, I hadn’t noticed. Or, more accurately, I hadn’t made notice of our minority status — I didn’t really care. Now that doesn’t make me any better than the others; it just shows the value of diversity, and the value of my own experience. We fear what we don’t know. I saw smiling faces of people enjoying a Saturday afternoon at the market; they saw people staring at them.
On Sunday, my son’s team played two games, losing 1-0 to a team from New Jersey with a mom so loud I swore I was at a taping of the Soprano’s. They lost on a mistake in the final two minutes. Next they tied a very good team from Virginia that was, boy for boy, far better than they were. But the Vermont team just would not let the Virignia team score and they almost scored a couple of times themselves.After a seemingly endless trip home, we made it. Tommorrow (oops, today) I’ll work in the morning and boil sap the rest of the day.
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