The taste of this special treat is frozen in my memory.
The scent of maple syrup transports me back to a time when everyone I knew in my small town in upstate New York tapped their sugar maple trees. Every March, on my way to school, I’d peek into the buckets and see the clear, watery liquid dripping in.
My most pleasant memory comes from the spring before my younger brother, Wally, and I even began school. We must have been 4 and 5 years old on the evening when Carolyn, our older sister, proposed to our mother that she take us to a sugaring off on Spring Woods farm. She knew all the farms in the area.
Much to my surprise, Mom let us go on the outing. Carolyn said she would walk us to the farm just after dark the next day.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der February/March 2017-Ausgabe von Country.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der February/March 2017-Ausgabe von Country.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
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