…but today, I reported to my classroom for the first time since March 12, 2020. It’s almost time to close up shop for the summer.

As I approached the doorway, I couldn’t help but notice the “Pandemic Cleaning Checklist” that hung on the door. I pulled my mask down so I could anxiously exhale and clearly view the steps our custodians took to make the environment safe. Then, I turned the key and entered.

Everything else was just as we had left it. The setting was eerie, in mildly post-apocalyptic way.

Lucas’ handwriting greeted me from the whiteboard — in bold purple marker, it reminded me of his campaign to be my favorite student.

Our field trip bus request and permission forms peeked out of a yellow folder I had prepared for an upcoming special event I had planned with some of my teacher soul-sisters from other districts.

A few leftover Class of 2020 t-shirt order forms puddled up on a student desk near mine.

I quickly sprayed the markerboard and wiped it clean. I tossed the order forms and the field trip folder into the trash. Many other stacks and bundles followed. I purge. It’s what I do to put the past in the past.

For over six weeks, I have maintained communication and connection strictly through digital means. I have driven past homes, honking and waving at precious friends in their yards and I have briefly chatted with my parents in their driveway when I dropped off supplies.

Folks, it is not the same. You can see the proof in the photo on the left. That woman has had limited real human interaction for the last month.

Do you see the fear in her eyes?
Do see the darkness?

Now look at the face on the right. That face is relaxed, smiling, and glowing. That is the face of a teacher who is back in her element, hitting reset, reflecting, and making plans for the future. It’s the countenance of a woman who spent just a few minutes chatting eye to eye with colleagues in the high school hallways. These images were taken just a couple of healing hours apart. Clearly, face-to-face interaction is a steroid, and we all need a shot.

I am not mourning any longer.
Our students are going to be okay.
We are going to be okay.

We have to allow ourselves to be.

Ready yourself to overcome this.
Plan to put the past in the past.
Prepare to purge the fear.
Get ready to glow!!

My Readers… I wrote “The Angry Man – COVID19” with appreciation of personal risk related to the readers of this current and highly emotional discussion. I also considered the temptation of some to classify this article as “Conspiracy theory” which often groups unconventional and unconstrained sharing of ideas.  In the end, I decided to publish this opinion paper that some will agree with and others will not. My hope is that you take the time to read it and that you consider its content with your objectivity (experiences and education you have acquired). My optimism is ever present in individuals and organizations where leadership is constantly critically learning through active measures to acquire knowledge. — Jim

I don’t know about you, but I am starting to get my dander up every time I hear that we need to “Shelter in Place” for the goodness of all humanity. If we don’t follow that instruction, death will happen, and it is a certainty. If it is not you that dies, you will bear the guilt of the “Carrier” or be the cause of another’s demise. And yes, that person, “You” killed, will most likely have been old or have some type of affliction that made their previous life at least a bit more miserable than yours. How dare you! How did we get here? It is like the perpetual optimism I usually enjoyed has left my brain and has been replaced by a cynical and artificially directed member of an ant hill. It may be this home security prison that is getting to me or the ever-building distrust I am gaining by observing the airwaves. Personal and destructive agendas wrapped in a caring tone of voice seem to be exploiting emotional distress for gain. COVID19, I know you are an enemy of the Nation and world, but I believe you pale in comparison to those devious in power using your existence to strengthen themselves. 

Men have created things about COVID19 that tick me off. The initial predictions for infections and mortality changed, a lot. That, followed by changing definitions for how to count the dead and diagnosed are the most perplexing and frustrating in the spotlight for me. I am paying attention to these things like most Americans. How can an epidemiologist go from predicting 2 million to under 60 thousand deaths for the USA within two months with the same considerations of social distancing? To my scientists: that science is not trustworthy and should embarrass the college that graduated you! I am angered since I feel as if we as a Nation are being led like helpless sheep by persons or groups with influence and something to gain which is not in the vast majorities best interest. “They” would sell their soul to improve or secure their position. Is it right to cause panic across the entire realm of what we used to call rationality of society? Can the number of ICUs or hospital staff ever be large enough to keep every patient alive? We are all mortal, right (sorry for the cynicism)? 

On April 16, 2019 the CDC redefined what deaths will be counted as COVID19 deaths. The newest change will now include those patients in the COVID19 cause of death pile if their death is suspected to be associated with COVID19. This is like washing away other mortality causes to a large extent since most who die in ICUs today require breathing assistance and many perish from pneumonia-like symptoms. In fact, hospitals have tracked a specific measure of quality called Hospital Acquired Pneumonia (HAP) for years now wanting to make sure hospitals were not the place pneumonia was acquired because of an unsterile environment. Pneumonia, noted upon admission, impacts many deaths of patients admitted for the top causes of death in the nation. Pneumonia will likely not be listed as the primary cause of death if the bodily systems were already weakened by failing systems (i.e. Heart failure). COVID19 will seemingly now trump other causes of death primary diagnoses even when weak bodily system created a mortal opportunity. Will the COVID19 presumptive diagnosis capture all those previously deemed pneumonia’s and jettison COVID19 in the ranking of primary causes of death? I think it is likely. Being isolated is an expectation while an ICU patient and the intensity ration of staff for care is very high. While we change our diagnostics to add new groups into the COVID19 category we must realize reimbursement for care, vents, etcetera is highly linked to these diagnostics. This environment in our hospital system will lure staff (clinicians and administrators) to target the right diagnosis that leads toward the money. 

Political posturing should make everyone on this planet furious. Budget proposals including right and left wing add-ons without association to defeating COVID19 or helping the public affected by its presence are prevalent. Name calling is quickly the tact of elected leaders versus working to find amicable solutions. Leadership divides along party lines without consideration of debate or credibility of arguments. There is a self-centeredness larger than ever before in history based on “Power.” Federal, State and County Leaders are examined prejudicially or preferentially based on the Republican or Democrat suit they wear. Within our largely two-party system we have forgotten that dignity and respect must be the first choice when being leaders. Listening and evaluating different points of view focused on a topic can elevate a common man to be redefined as a cooperative and learning leader. Many have lost the gift of maturity that enables older folks to show attention without expressing insubordinance through appearance or action. Has it become an impossible task to try to appreciate the stress of a leader trying to make the best decision for all, without critically and immediately looking at the shortfalls of the plan? Blindly following is foolish and insincere loyalty is mutiny. So where does that leave us? I think the politicians are putting us in “their” middle, forcing policies they believe in into the center of COVID19. Isn’t it time their motivations change from reelection to serving even those who do not go to the polls. 

The collective media has become one of my most despised sources of information even though there is virtually no other alternative. They intentionally dramatize singular cases of COVID19 and glorify their coverage in a self-promoting way that is undignified. For instance, the smallest fraction of hospitalized patients who had no comorbidities along with their COVID19 are focused upon. I must believe this is to incite individual fear in the general population hinting, “This could be you”, if you do not abide by the new stay at home rules. Multiple correspondents have used COVID19 to tell their personal story of struggle from home. The most maddening is one from CNN who without a doubt needed to be the main character in the COVID19 story after he contracted the disease. His connection with the Governor of New York, gave him an inside scoop to COVID19, but clearly the concentrated story is of himself. We know he had a fever. We know he claims suffering. We know he had a social isolation argument with his neighbor. Oh, might I add; we know he was not “Sick enough”, at least physically, to be hospitalized. And now, we know he needed to continue “His” story, so he is now following his wife’s COVID19 struggle. This is only one reporter making me ashamed to have watched even one of his pity party newscasts. Sadly, I think some of those reporters, like him, might hope of being hospitalized and taken as close to death as possible for their career developmental story. 

From me, who thought I was the “Angry man” when I started this piece, I am glad I got the words out of my head and onto paper. I can’t believe that I am the only American that has had their “Optimism protection system” weakened by the peripheral annoyances of COVID19. Maybe that should be listed as a new symptom? I will drive on collecting factual and comparative data to make good decisions that are informed by common sense, objectivity and reason. I’ve decided to double-down on not being a thoughtless drone receiving the news or guidance knowing that my outlook and lens play a part in the interpretation and outcome. I am optimistic and so should you be. It looks like a nice day out so I think I am going to go for a run. 

“To Lead is a Privilege, to Think is a Responsibility” – Jim Laterza 

We’ve always had bird feeders and have enjoyed watching many different birds visit our yard. About five years ago, we briefly saw a male Bluebird visit our bird bath. After some research, we determined it was just a “fly by” and that he wasn’t overly impressed with our food and lodging offerings. My wife decided that we needed to add Bluebird houses to our backyard.

Much to our delight, the following spring a Papa Bluebird visited once again. He must have approved of our renovations because a few days later, he brought the decision-maker with him – Mama Bluebird. That first year was very exciting for us as we watched them daily from March through September.

The following spring we upped our game by adding a mealworm feeder to our backyard, not knowing if they would return or not. You would have thought we won the lottery the day we saw a Papa Bluebird sitting on one of the houses. Mama soon followed and our “Bluebird” spring and summer unfolded just as the year before. Mama and Papa’s behavior the second year mirrored the first, so now we understood what “normal” was for raising a family of Bluebirds – and it’s pretty awesome!

As we have gotten to know our Bluebirds over the years, we have come to truly appreciate how magnificent they are. As mentioned above, a Papa Bluebird visits each spring by himself. This is his scouting run to scope out suitable places to raise a family. Mama usually shows up a few days later, and they basically start “claiming their turf” by sitting on one of our houses. They are not fending off other Bluebirds, but other birds like Starlings and House Sparrows who also look for holes/houses to build nests in – and also have been known to attack Bluebirds.

Claiming their turf can go on for weeks before they even start building a nest. Similar to the boxing analogy of “pound for pound best boxer”, Papa Bluebird is one of the baddest birds on this planet! We’ve seen times when a Starling has trapped Mama in one of the houses, and out of nowhere Papa comes dive bombing the Starling and chases him away. Papa is extremely protective – just ask a few curious squirrels who have gotten a little too close to the house. Papa is always on watch! He’s like a dad at the playground who never takes his eyes off his children as they play with their friends. Papa likes to sit in a few different spots, usually high points where he can keep an eye on the entire backyard.

It’s heartwarming to observe Mama and Papa Bluebird truly being a couple. Much like a husband and wife, they have their different roles but they work as a team and share many responsibilities. During nest building, we watch them both gather pieces of grass and individually disappear through the hole in the birdhouse. We have also seen Papa carry some nest building materials to the birdhouse opening to hand-off to Mama inside.

Bluebirds are very social. They do not mind interactions with people, and at times we think they actually enjoy us being around. Our Bluebird houses allow for the front section to swing open so we can look inside. We don’t look too often, and we always knock on the side of the house first, but we can watch the progress of the nest building with an occasional peek. Watching nest building is fun, but nothing compares to looking inside a house and seeing a little blue egg in the nest! Mama usually lays one egg a day, in the morning, for five or six days. She actually spends time away from the house during the time and we monitor the egg laying in the early evening each day. “Dive bomber” Papa is always watching us from a nearby perch, but somehow knows that he can trust us. Once all the eggs are laid, Mama takes to keeping them warm by sitting on the nest for about two weeks.

We made a big mistake with our birdhouses the first year. We mounted our houses on wooden stakes that looked nice, but were not very sturdy. After Mama laid five eggs that first year, a raccoon (most likely) knocked the entire house down one night and there were no eggs left the next morning. We felt terrible, and quickly put the houses back up on “industrial strength” poles with safeguards to prevent anything from climbing to the house. We were afraid Mama and Papa would go away, but they stayed. The next day they both sat next to each other on the birdbath for a very long time. Their daily routine was sadly no longer required and they were likely a bit puzzled, but it also seemed like they were mourning. Staying close together, not flying all about until they decided to start all over again – which they did, but in a different house in our yard.

Once the baby Bluebirds are hatched, Papa now elevates his protector role and guards the house pretty much all the time – and aggressively chases away any bird or animal that gets close to the house. He also becomes chief cook and bottle washer. As mentioned earlier, we have a mealworm feeder close to the birdhouse. We add mealworms to the feeder in the early morning most days. We don’t bother Mama during this time, but we do get close to fill the feeder. Papa watches us closely. As soon as we start walking away, he will fly to the feeder for a mouthful of mealworms. He collects the mealworms, but he doesn’t eat a single one as he flies to the birdhouse opening for a beak to beak hand-off with Mama so she can feed the babies and herself. This routine continues for the next 10-15 days. As days go on, we’ll see Mama and Papa go into the house and come out with little white sacs in their mouths. They are removing the waste from the babies so the nest stays clean and safe (gives new appreciation for the disposable diapers we used for our three kids :).

Next comes the best part of helping our Bluebird couple raise their family – the babies start to fledge the nest. After 15 days or so, we start seeing the babies start poking their heads out the birdhouse. It’s really fun to watch over a couple days as they get more courageous, you think one is about to go for it – then he or she thinks “not so sure” and pulls back inside. Growing confidence, along with an increasingly crowded house, finally leads to the first fledgling leaving the nest and immediately perching on a nearby tree branch. One by one, they all take the leap of faith over coming days and our backyard is filled with Bluebirds.

After several intense weeks, Mama and Papa finally can relax a bit – although their parenting responsibilities continue. We add more mealworms per day to the feeder to satisfy the growing needs of all the new babies. Some of the babies quickly find their way to the feeder and become fairly independent right away. Others, are more tentative and we watch as Mama or Papa bring them mealworms wherever they may be perched in a tree. Over coming weeks, many of the fledglings stick around and often play together in our birdbath. As their first brood of baby Bluebirds continue to spread their wings, Mama and Papa have already started nest number two and start the entire process all over again

So, during this unprecedented time of uncertainty and fear, we are blessed to have a pocket of normalcy that our family escapes to everyday – right in our backyard. I hope reading our Bluebird adventures provides you with a brief escape as well, and I hope you find comfort in seeking your own pockets of normalcy within your lives.

In the turbulent sixties, spies were in demand. There was that war going on over in ‘Nam, anti-war protests across the U.S., and the civil rights movement in the south. My new, young spy friend had been deployed to Eastern Europe, keeping an eye on Soviet activity. I was a bit in awe.

Much later, I was working for a global software development company that sent consultants around the world. The project that I was working on was domestic. But one of my close associates and friends there had come out of military intelligence. He was gathering and analyzing data electronically, from strategic hot spots around the world. My cousin Les was doing the same thing on the ground in South Korea.

A few years later, working for the same company, I encountered two more CIA agents. They were an odd pair. He was short, overweight, balding, and bespectacled. She was a tough one, a real piece of work. She had a manly manner, and rode her Harley to work. They had been working together for years. An unmarried married couple, deployed by the CIA to do interrogations of vietcong, in Vietnam. The company I worked for was headquartered near the Pentagon, and provided cover for CIA operatives. I can tell you this, if you ever encounter a short, overweight, balding, and bespectacled man, tell him what he wants to know. If you don’t, he will cut off your tongue!

It seems they’re everywhere. And they just can’t be trusted!  I thought I could trust Paul. We had been friends in our youth. We went to church youth activities. But, wouldn’t you know it, he married my girlfriend! I guess you can do that if you work for the NSA.

But still the messages came in, unrelenting, unsettling, disquieting.  It is not easy to watch as things spiral out of your control.  Another hand on the rudder, another voice shouting as your ship tacks to and fro without you even being aboard.  It is the lack of control that drives you crazy.  This is action that you yourself have confidently undertaken more times than you can count.  You are good at it.  The results certain.  Dependable.  Pleasing.

“No Sara,” I cry again as the fatal text comes in.  Each previous text was a small incision, a mere papercut.  But this last is a slash to the juggler.  I winced when Sara had substituted another brand of hot dogs for my beloved Ball Park Beef Franks.  I whimpered when the Kraft deluxe mac and cheese was replaced with the store brand basic.  I cried when the chicken breasts were refunded, and I wept unashamedly when the family pack of T-bone steaks suffered the same fate, the fact that the Dinty Moore stew had survived unscathed being meager solace.  But now I am inconsolable. Devastated.  Stricken with a sadness the depth of which I may never escape.  I hold the phone in my hand.  The text stares back at me.  Tauntingly.  Remorseless.  The loss too painful to countenance, I look away.  The Breyers cherry vanilla ice cream has been refunded.  Life no longer has meaning.

And then the phone chimes again with one final, incongruously cheery message.  “Fry’s is on the way!!”  And now I am left to make the decision.  How much do you tip a woman whom you have never met, who may be saving your life, but has destroyed your will to fight on?

There are some places in life that never leave us, even when we leave them.  What transpires in these temples of our formation lingers like an indian summer over the rest of our life.  The memories and experiences imprint on our very soul and provide the standard by which we measure goodness, love, right, wrong, joy.  None of these places have marble tiled foyers or soaring columns.  They are rarely pristine, often worn, and always well lived in.  While not mecca, they are certainly worthy of a pilgrimage when seeking a renewal of spirit.  We have all knelt at these altars, humbled by their influence, grateful for their refuge.  They are the sites of our most precious memories and most meaningful relationships.  More often than not, we find our way back to them on the scent of fresh baked rolls, or the sound of katydids on a summer evening, instantly transported to the safety and comfort of home.  It is the place our self-confidence is nurtured.  It is where who we are is created.

For me this was my grandmother’s dining room table.  It was the gathering place for the whole community.  The coffee was always on, and more often than not, there was some fresh-baked treat or other available as accompaniment.  The door was never locked.  Even when my grandmother and my aunt weren’t home, they left the doors open in case company stopped by.  They prioritized family, whether by blood or proximity, above all else.  Those relationships were what they lived for, and the number of people whose live’s they touched was an indication of how desperately needed their kind of love was. 

A typical night would see anywhere from four or five to twenty people crowded into the small dining room. There was a lot of laughter, and some tears too.  Folks didn’t always agree.  Healthy debate was plentiful, and often colorful.  You knew better than to express your opinion if you didn’t have the knowledge and experience to defend it.  More than anything else, though there was relationship.  Personal interaction.  Eye contact.  True concern for one another and an attempt to understand even if agreement was unlikely.

It’s what I miss most about my formative years.  I didn’t realize then how quickly that type of interaction was going to fade from the world.  The more “advanced” we have gotten, the further we have traveled from a place where discourse leads to compassion and disagreement does not equal disrespect.  Blame is now more important than resolution and redemption is unheard of.  Everyone’s voice has equal volume when there is nothing to compete against, and isolation gives a sense of bravado far greater than any that would be displayed face to face. 

I am as guilty as anyone of succumbing to our digital age.  For years our dinner table has had as many electronic devices present as people, if it serves as a gathering place at all.  The same is true of every room in the house.  I’m embarrassed by the number of virtual tethers in my home.  The formative years for my kids have been dominated by social media and streaming entertainment instead of real experiences and real relationships.  In an effort to give them the newest, coolest, and best of what our society offers, I have deprived them of what’s most important.  Engagement.  We text from the same room, share memes, YouTube videos, and communicate in a shorthand as likely to include a GIF as a complete sentence with punctuation.  A family desperately oblivious to our need for a reset and reconnect. 

And now here we are, a couple of weeks into limited interaction with the outside world and things are starting to change.  Social Distancing has lead to dinner at home instead of in a crowded, noisy restaurant becoming our new normal.  That, accompanied by a strict no electronics at the dinner table policy, excluding the one we use to Zoom for an extended family Taco Tuesday, has led to conversation, collaboration, cohesiveness.  We have discovered there isn’t much on social media when everyone else is home just like you are.  We have discovered that there is only so much T.V. anyone can stomach before searching for a book, or a game, or better yet, seeking out a conversation.  Our house has started to resemble the home I grew up in.  Sad that it has taken a government order to get us here.  Funny that “Social Distancing” has resulted in reclamation of some of the closest relationships anyone should have.  Not how I would have hoped for a culture shift but I’ll take the victory when there aren’t too many of those going around. 

Will we be able to maintain this when the social freeze thaws?  Only time will tell, but right now my back patio feels a lot like my grandmother’s table used to.  If we get lucky, future days will see it  filled with family, both by blood and by proximity, that need that place where they feel safe. Where they can find a little bit of themselves in the person sitting across the fire pit from them on a fall evening.  Where they discover what being a person is all about from someone that has lived long enough to become one.  And maybe, just maybe, it will be the setting for the conversations and memories that linger like an Indian summer over the rest of their lives. 

With the framing complete, it was now time to get this sugar shack weathertight. (To read about the framing, check out part I of our project)

Metal roofing is the traditional roofing choice for sugar shacks…and I was certainly not going to stray from tradition.  This was the part of my project I worried about the most. Metal roofing requires a perfectly square roof and getting the panels running straight right from the get go.  My only other metal roofing experience was a tiny wood shed and to say that turned out as desired would be an untruth of epic proportion. With a lot of roofing to install, and both my daylight hours, and the hours my buddy Adam could help me running short, the pressure was on, but after much sweating, fretting, and occasional frustration…the metal roof was in place, and aside from a couple screws that were not seated completely, it was and still is leak free.

Typically this was the point in a building project where I’d be so focused on getting done, that it would take the fun out of it.  But, I kept focusing on some words that my dad told me during one of my earlier building projects. He said “don’t wish for it to be over, the building is the fun part, enjoy it”.   With those words ringing in my head, and a grin on my face, I was ready to tackle the next phase of construction.

Again, sticking with tradition, I wanted my sugar shack to be clothed in board and batten siding.   For those that don’t know, this is a type of siding where wide boards (called boards ) are installed vertically, and narrow strips of lumber (called battens) are placed over the gap between the boards.  I ordered some rough cut hemlock from a local lumber company. I soon learned that rough cut 1”x12”x16’ boards, that were in a full sized tree only days earlier, are heavy, very heavy. Working against weather, and often losing, I worked quickly to get these soggy planks hanging on my building.   With temperatures down into the teens, if I was going to get this thing closed in, I was going to have to keep working.

When I first picked the spot to build my building, from a casual glance, the ground looked relatively level.  Perhaps I was standing with one foot in a hole, because it wasn’t until I started framing that I realized there was about a 12” drop in grade from right to left.  I took a momentary break from siding, to haul 10 tons of crusher run to bring the grade to level. Before starting this project, I had purchased the smallest Kubota tractor and a front end loader to go with it.   I believe with this one task the tractor paid for itself….to this day, the woman who shares my last name, disagrees.

With the grade leveled, I finished up the siding and worked through all the trim details, battens, and building all my doors.  I had seen a pretty neat window setup using barn sashes and a tilt-in design that I used for all my windows. I had also seen a clever design for the cupola doors that would allow them to open upward and keep the weather out while boiling.  The trickiest part of that task was figuring out the pulley placement so that a grown man could actually provide enough force to open said cupola doors; with some trial and error, I got that all figured out.

I don’t know why, because it’s certainly not the norm, but I wanted a wooden plank floor in my sugar shack.   This posed a bit of a problem because wood fired syrup evaporators can be a fire hazard with a wooden floor underneath them.  There are ways to protect the wood, but none of them seemed as safe as I thought they should be. I decided that I wanted to put a large paver hearth under the evaporator area.  To keep moisture at bay, promote good drainage, and to ensure a level base, I put down 4” of gravel on top of the crusher run. I framed the floor with pressure treated 4”x4” sleepers.  I boxed in the area where the pavers would be installed, filled that area with paver base, leveling sand, and then placed the pavers so that they would sit level with the wood flooring. I put a vapor barrier on top of the sleepers and for flooring, and installed 1”x10” pine for floor boards.   The end result was the old timey barn look and feel with a fireproof hearth area. I was thrilled with how it turned out …and I had finished this last bit of construction 4 months to the day from when I started.

While I was building,  I had ordered a 2’x3’ hobby sized Evaporator from Mason Evaporators in Maine.   Unfortunately it arrived a little too late to use for the 2019 season. Without the pressure to get set up for boiling, I took a break for a few months and spent some time taking care of other projects that had been neglected during the build.

The next thing on the to-do list was to get the stack through the roof and connected to the evaporator.   I did not have the heart to put a hole in my new metal roof, or enough chimney assembling experience to convince myself that I needed to install the stack myself, so I reached out to Crocker’s Hardware in Leroy, NY to do the honors.  What would have taken me days of fret, worry, and potential catastrophic results, was done in a day’s time. If I were to do this part over again, I would either have framed the roof so the stack could go straight up, or would have placed the hearth off center, but I did neither of those things, and ended up with a slight bend in the stack. It did not seem to effect performance of the evaporator.

With a particularly wet spring and early summer, I had to wait for a long enough dry stretch to get some stain on the siding.   I picked up a pro-sumer grade sprayer, and in the course of a day, was able to get two coats of stain protecting the hemlock siding.  Based on some input from a friend with a lot of rough lumber experience, I ended up using Flood CWF-UV5 Transparent Stain for my finish.

The other task I decided to hire was getting the electrical run from the house to the shack.  A 50 AMP service would be the best choice to meet the power needs of the shack. To save some money, I signed up to trenching the 100 yards from the house to the shack and lay the wire.  While the trench was open, I ran some direct burial ethernet cable so that I could eventually have internet in the shack. I’m not sure if the money I saved was worth the trenching time, but I did unearth a random kitchen spoon from my backyard, which provided some moments of head scratching as to how such an item would find its way there.  A mystery still unsolved to this very day. The electrician hooked everything up, and with the panel box in place, I took it from there and ran all the lighting and outlet circuits in the shack.  

It was about at this point where I completely lost sight of the shack part of this project, and turned it into an exercise in carpentry creativity.   The overpriced galvanized barn lights and metal clad wiring should have been the first indication that I was taking things too far, but sometimes these things are lost on me.

For those not that close to the maple syrup process, a lot of sugarers use Reverse Osmosis (RO) to remove a large amount of water from the sap before boiling.   Not only does this save time, but saves on fuel cost to run the evaporator. I don’t currently have a Reverse Osmosis setup, but knowing that someday I might want that, and knowing I wanted some running water in shack, I built a small 3’x8’ insulated and heated closet that could house a 65 gallon fresh water barrel, small water heater, on demand water pump…and eventually my RO setup.   I closed the closet in with leftover siding materials. I built a beefy open cabinet to hold a stainless steel wash tub and had some soapstone countertop sections cut out of a remnant from the local stone shop. I installed this next to the utility closet and ran a drain from the sink out to a gray water well about 15’ away from the building.

Now that all the ‘essentials’ were in place, it was time to think about the optional features that would come in handy once the shack was in use.   I was definitely going to need some shelves for storage and additional work surfaces. I built an overhead shelf to hold sap buckets. My buddy gave me an old metal workbench that needed some fresh paint and a new work top.  A night in the workshop with some leftover framing materials took care of that. I put a narrow shelf above the sink area and turned that into a mini maple museum, decorated with old syrup tins, sap buckets, and other maple memorabilia.  I was looking for a place for people to sit when they were hanging out during the sugaring season. A common suggestion on the forums was a picnic table. I still had some of the scaffolding materials that I used for framing the roof. Despite the screw holes and foot prints, these made for a great picnic table.   The last thing I needed to build was a platform to hold my sap barrels. I build that out of pressure treated materials and set it up under the overhang section of the building.

At this point, having completely blown my original budget, construction was complete and all that was left to do was to wait out the winter and think about the day the sap would start running…. 

I had finally done it.   After years of scheming and dreaming, I finally put hammer to nail and built myself an honest to goodness sugar shack.   The extra touches, though not at all necessary really add to the look and feel of the building.

And for those wondering, the sap did finally start to run, and I tapped 25 trees and was able to make about 6 gallons of delicious maple syrup.  Everything in the shack worked out really well, from the evaporator, to all the work surfaces, to the running water and even the cupola doors.   

These days, when I look out over the back yard while enjoying my morning coffee, it almost looks like a scene from New England.   The extra touches and extra dollars that went along with them were definitely worth it. I’ve done a lot of building over the years, but I can honestly say that nothing was as fun and as rewarding as my old timey sugar shack.

Resources used in this phase of construction:

Armor Building Supply - Metal Roofing

Crocker's Ace Hardware - Chimney Install

Jay E. Potter Lumber Company - Rough Cut Hemlock

M.C.M. Natural Stone - Soapstone Countertops

Mason Custom Welding - Maple Syrup Evaporator

Whoa, screech, screech … not so fast! I live in Georgia and not just any part of Georgia, I live in Augusta, GA. The home of the world-famous Masters Golf Tournament. It was scheduled to happen the first week in April when thousands of golf lovers would descend on our grand city. Well, the Masters was postponed and some say the entire city is going to blow away. It doesn’t seem like folks are conceding to that train of thought and the biggest adjustment so far is restaurant curbside service and busy new drive-through windows. Neither the postponement nor social distancing have impacted the weather either. The end of March has been beautiful hanging in the 70s. My suspicion is that the Greek god of Meteorology, Jupiter, is asleep or not watching the news and has not figured in the corona effect. For now, mowing the lawn and sitting outside to enjoy a cool drink in the sunlight is going off without a hitch.

To add even some more confusion to the mix of the corona virus self-isolation, my wife and I have taken to walking not only once per day, but twice! The self-isolation and “Work stoppage” at most offices with a “Work from home” directive has caused many of our neighbors to be in the “Hood.” That is morning, noon and night and every day. Is there a workday or evening difference? It’s not proving to be so different. And, “Social distancing”, is causing the strangest phenomenon in the behavior of my neighborhood. People must be dropping their devices, laptops and even televisions to go outside and enjoy the air. Wait, isn’t that corona virus air?? If it is in the neighborhood air it is causing some to sit on their front lawn and wave from a safe distance of at least six feet apart or others even to walk carefully on the opposite side of the street and say hello when passing. In fact, I think that I have found people who may have been cave dwellers in underground tunnels beneath their homes. They may have been freed by “Social distancing.”

Irony, I am so glad it exists. It is the surprise impact of the effect of something. It’s a lot like a comedic punchline. Did you know what was going to happen before that comedian delivered the “Killer” line? No way, but it was funny. Here in my neighborhood, corona and social distancing are creating a social and aware environment where people are wondering inquisitively about their closest community. It’s not about fearing that their neighbors may be infectious. It seems to be a new desire to be aware of them, their neighbors. It’s as if connecting with them now is important.

I am not sure how the corona virus will inevitably impact me or my family, but I believe the ironies so far have at least some elements of goodness. My goal is to not lose the hope momentum and to focus on those positive indicators of humanity that set us apart as communities and neighbors. As our health system and personal health is tested, I believe there will be many micro-cures of communities delivered by the ironic impact of social distancing. I look for them to provide electricity to fuel more unpredictable and positive magnetic connections and hope they bring.

They knew that “The Times, They Are A Changing”. They knew that “The Answers Are Blowing In The Wind”. They were experiencing war and unrest, and they knew that their parents had also experienced a terrible war. The war their fathers fought had ended. “Their father’s hell did slowly go by”.

I fear that the young people of today are NOT tuned in. They do not listen to the news about the war we are now waging, against COVID-19. They think this is their father’s hell, not theirs. The sacrifices of Social Distancing and the guidelines of the virus task force do not apply to them. We need to listen to an old song, and heed its advice. “Teach Your Children”, written by Graham Nash.

I’ll admit I’ve lost track of exactly how long we’ve been trying to live lives of isolation and social distancing.  Most days, I’m not entirely sure what day of the week it is. And, even though I’m still working my day job, only from the confines of my home, there must be something about that drive to and from the office that provides a better sense of counting the days…a delineation of time that is emphasized by actually getting in and of one’s particular mode of transportation.   I’m not even the type of person that is on the go during the regular work week all that much, rarely eat out, hit up any stores, or do all that much out of the daily routine on Monday – Friday. But, I’m finding there are parts of my daily routine that I miss… the pre-work run with my running buddy, the stop to my favorite coffee shop on my way to work, the morning catch up time with my coworkers, having a face to face meeting, and the freedom to know that if I really need a new pair of running shoes, today, I can go to the store and buy them.

I think the strangest phenomenon may be the extra calories it seems to take to remain isolated.   I mean, I can’t eat enough. I noticed the other day as my family finished lunch, we were trying to decide what time we’d be eating dinner, and then how long after that would we eat our brownie sundaes.  Now, don’t get me wrong, we are blessed beyond measure in that we have these luxuries, but I’m to a point that my pre-isolation britches no longer fit my mid-isolation physique. We have a real problem here.

Petty struggles aside, there are some really good things going on in the world during this time of crisis, and maybe paying attention to these is good for the soul.

Time with Family

I’m thinking our son may not see the positive in this…but ‘family time’ has gone through the roof.   We eat meals together, play games, work on puzzles, house projects, take rides, and watch movies. We’re back to simpler times.   It’s like Little House on the Prairie here… minus the prairie, and the horses, and the crying that happened every episode…oh, and the whole electricity, internet, and automobiles thing.

Free Concerts

I’m a huge music fan and I love going to a live show.   The number of artists, both big and small, that have decided to live stream performances has been amazing.   What’s really cool is the ability to then ‘attend’ those concerts with family and friends. A local singer songwriter, Chris Wilson, has been live streaming two concerts a week.   It’s been fun to share his live stream link with people and ‘watch together’. We text, and Facebook Message, and just sit back and enjoy the gift of music together, yet ‘distanced’.   It’s the coolest thing.

Keeping Occupied

Since the Social Distancing edict came out, it seems that companies and organizations are stepping up to provide resources to keep yourself busy.   I’ve seen free virtual museum tours, a bunch of online workouts to help stay fit at home during this time, but I think one of my favorite things has come from Audi.   Now, I will admit to having a bit of a soft spot in my heart for German automobiles, but the Audi coloring book is one of my absolute favorite things to be announced since our ‘stay at home’ philosophy went into effect.  I’m torn between the R8 on page 12 and the rally car on page 10.    Where are my colored pencils?

Companies Doing Good Things

It has been great to see so many companies stepping during this crisis.   Mortgage companies are waving payments, companies like ROKU are offering premium channels for free, I even got a message that Verizon was giving us 15GB of data usage for no charge.  Some companies are offering better sick time coverage and a lot of grocery companies are offering pay increases to some of their employees during this crisis. All great stuff. All nice gestures during a time of uncertainty.

Magical Musical Moments

Along with all of the live streaming concerts, many artists are posting scaled back performances from their homes.   It’s a neat glimpse into the everyday lives of some of the musicians I most admire, and makes them feel a little more ‘human’.   Even though I’ll likely never meet any of these performers, it’s nice to see them in a little less ‘polished’ light. I’m a big Norah Jones fan, and watching her cover Patience by Guns and Roses was an unexpected treat.  

… and Steve Martin was getting into the mix with some great banjo performances….   These are just a couple samples, but lots of musicians are opening up their homes and their hearts to spread a little joy at a time when we could use it the most.

 Checking Things off the List

There has never been a better time to check things off the to-do list than now.   There are garages needing organizing. Photo collections needing sorted. Closets needing pruning….but save the pre-diet clothes, this thing may go on for a while.  With all excuses being rendered useless, now is the time to work through that to-do list that you’ve been avoiding for so long.

Supporting Local Businesses

This is a tough time for local businesses.   With many of them being told to close their doors or restrict their offerings, it’s more important than ever to show them support in any way they can.  Many restaurants are offering delivery or curbside pickup. Some businesses are promoting ordering online for delivery. And, if you’re nervous about the human contact, you can even consider buying some gift cards to use once this whole thing is over, and help these businesses stay afloat until that day comes.

People Coming Together

One of the things that I like the least about Social Media is all the negativity.   The polarized political climate is more than I can take most days. We tend to focus more on our differences than our similarities. It has been a bit encouraging that ‘some’ of that has settled down during this time of crisis.  COVID-19 shows no preferences.  None of the things that tend to drive us apart matter, we are all equally susceptible to getting ill. If nothing else, this virus has shown us that we are more alike than we are different and we are in this together. ….and people are acting that way. I continue to hear stories about people rising to the occasion to do good, to help each other, to make a difference, to do what they can to make someone smile. Quite honestly, it gives me hope.

Laughter is the best Medicine

There’s a saying that laughter is the best medicine. Now, I’m no doctor, so can’t confirm or deny those claims, but I’d like to believe they are true. I see a lot of folks posting pictures and videos of things to lighten the mood, and I think that’s a good thing. Some of the memes about social distancing, staying at home, home schooling, continually eating are hilarious. So, I’m going with the belief that the more I laugh the healthier I will be…and I’d suggest you do the same

That pretty much wraps this piece up. Certainly not an exhaustive list, but some of the positive things I’ve noticed since this whole thing started. There’s a lot to be nervous about these days.  There’s a lot of uncertainty, a lot to worry about. But if you take a minute to pay attention to things around you, there is good to be found.  All you have to do is look for it!