Dirt roads+melting snow=“mud season.” It’s here and it’s
squishy.
But that’s what we Vermonters can expect every March along
with our town meetings and lots of little tin buckets with pointy hats hanging
off every maple tree around. (The more serious sugar farmers up here run little
white pipe lines from trees to holding tanks and evaporators. But it's the buckets that make March for me.)
There’s a saying in Vermont: It will sugar off. That means you don’t have to worry
about things too much because eventually, the sap boils off and you’ll have
golden maple syrup. Things will settle down. After all the collecting and the steam’s
evaporated, the essence will appear.
I trust that will happen to our sappy steaming vat of national health care reform. What's sap and what's the real thing? Maybe before Vermont’s sticky sugaring season is over, we’ll actually have something sweet to sink our teeth into. We've been wound up for a year now, listening to claims and counter-claims. I’ve decided to just stop thinking about it anymore. It will all sugar off.
This morning I learned that meditating 12 minutes a day staves off aging. Excuse me. I'm off to be as still as one these buckets.
Comments