Sunday, March 29, 2020

On Circling the Wagons

For frontier wagon trains, creating a protective perimeter
with the largest objects they had at hand provided some
measure of emotional and physical security.
It was known as "Circling the Wagons". Apart from times
of peril, it offered a feeling of control over environment,
a visual establishment of community, a circle of union.
This post will report on the mostly continual changes that are
occurring here, so that when we look back, we can remember
what it felt like to try to shoulder on against the onslaught!
* * * * *
But first, a weather report:
this past week the calendar indicated the "first day of Spring."
March offers alternating days of hope and gloom.
In the parking lot the maple trees hint at the color to come
with their reddish leaf buds.
Two days earlier, we woke up to Mother's Nature's
sense of humor, as seen out our deck window.
Warm enough air and soil to sprout crocus,
And along the river walk trail, the carpet of decaying leaves
is being pushed aside by colorful shoots.
The forest of trees will soon have their complement of
foliage to block the nourishing sun, but for now,
vines take advantage and get a head start on greening.
Oh, I'm looking forward to emerging into summer!
But 'til then, like the whole world, we circle our wagons. 
NHMM continues to adapt and function in the middle 
of this pandemic crisis. Change is constant as we share the need 
for protection and isolation, as well as the strengthening of
emotional and social ties. 
It seems like news-worthy datelines crawl across each day,
but one of major significance happened on Thursday, March 26.
NH Governor Sununu issued a "stay at home" order.
Guidance we were following from the Missionary Dept. 
now had the force of civil government.
As I prepared last week's post, our hearts were already
full as we waited for the inevitable -- sending home
two dozen young missionaries because of health concerns
that put them at higher risk, plus a couple of 21 month Elders.
We had a special Sunday (safe distance) meeting with these two,
serving as Spanish speaking Hermanas in the Manchester Ward.
They promised they would drop into the office on Monday
so we would be sure to see them before they were gone.
(Sisters Ladle and Green at Manchester airport.)
Sunday night late, they "attacked" our apartment door with 
hearts overwritten with sentiments of affection and caring.
(As a side note, we believe they may have also traveled
to the Auburn home of Sister Nicklaus and similarly attacked
her door - something very novel to her, and which impressed
and touched her husband particularly!)
By Tuesday morning, we learned they had traveled home
with flight plans arranged extraordinarily by their parents,
to get them out of harm's way. It seemed extreme, but . . .
. . . within hours, news was received about earthquakes
near Salt Lake airport. Soon aftershocks prompted new activity
from the Mission Dept. hedging against possible complicating 
airport closures. We received urgent word through Pres. and
Sister Beck that the Mission Dept. in SL was authorizing us
to enlist parents' help in the same way
for the remaining missionaries on the "at risk" list.
We each took a few names, and called parents with urgent
instructions to book flights for the next day, Wednesday.
During this scramble, I was asked to book two flights
for Sisters that I am very fond of - such a torrent of conflicting 
emotions, to urgently and efficiently assist them away!
The many who left will be represented by the few
who we could say good-bye to:
here are Sisters Hernandez, Stant and Van Wagoner. 
(On a forward-looking note, three new missionaries arrived
Fri. night, reassigned from Asia region, with more still
on the docket to come and serve with us in NHMM.)
Here is a posted picture of Elder Rice who we were able
to connect so completely with when he was assigned
to the Bedford Ward and could regularly visit the office.
He returned home through the Tucson airport. 
Now there's no chance to hear his homecoming report.
The final departure in this "batch" was Sister Gaunt,
from England. She was able, on Sunday, as part of
a mission-wide online devotional, to share her feelings
about her service, her commitment to sharing the Gospel,
and her struggle to turn this heart-wrenching change
over to the Lord, who has a plan and fulfills it with love.
With high priority to comfort and lead the missionaries even
as they learned about their fellows leaving, and as they
deal with the stay at home directives, this past week was 
filled with on-line meetings. One included a presentation by
the regional medical adviser Dr. Gatrell, who talked with calm
and good sense about the virus and how to take personal care
to reduce risks, and the need to get outside for exercise.
His words reassured me, certainly.
Another day, Dan Carter, a counselor who lives and works
within the mission, talked to the missionaries about practices
for dealing with the emotional ride as we shelter and
stay inside. His advice was also comforting and helpful.
 This image, below, is of Vince as we listened to a morning 
meeting from the kitchen area of our apartment.
Vince is my "rock" and remains 
[sometimes aggravatingly] positive and hopeful.
Given the choice to leave or stay (as essential office staff), 
we have received personal assurance to stay.
But in balance for safety, we are working fewer hours each day
in the office, and also trying to skip alternate days. 
(Not quite sure how we will explain the "essential" nature
of our work, under the stay at home directive.)
As I have rolled and plunged emotionally, I keep trying
to find the "good" in these novel situations.
The "Polyanna" effect is a phrase I like, so I guess I was
hunting along those lines. I'm sure life will change because of
what started in earnest for us this final week in March.
A down-note is my reaction now to the "threat" posed
by simply encountering the apartment building door knob,
one of the few community surfaces we must touch each day.
I wonder how long it will take to become "normal" again.
A small glimmer is that we were home late one morning
to spy the friendly cardinal visiting Vince's deck feeder.
(It felt like "good luck", but I wish he'd come 'round 
to this side!)
 On some level, I am analyzing my reactions, and comparing
to those of the humans around me. We didn't dash out,
for instance, to pick up a disproportionate amount of
toilet paper. Yet when I heard that the "only essential" businesses
restriction would NOT allow the craft stores to stay open,
I risked a trip for supplies so I can feed my creative needs.
This image below, represents the protective "gear" that
the Manchester Hobby Lobby had arranged for mutual benefit:
a vinyl barrier between clerk and customer!
We learn constantly about the miracles occurring here as 
teaching and invitations to "come unto Christ" continue, 
through inventive, creative ways. (I'll share more another time.)
Stories abound regarding helpful folks who share and serve,
comfort and medically treat. Cooperation seems to be alive and well.
(Of course, there remains much doom and gloom from network news.)
But my lamp has been filled by so many, from those reaching
to check in with isolated son Cory in Lehi, to testimonies
from dozens of young missionaries, to online comments
from positive-thinking nieces or friends from ward families.
I received particular strength hearing the voice of our
physician Prophet, with encouragement to call upon God
for comfort and guidance. Words that helped me
remember why we are here.
Sending our prayers for protection to the imperiled,
comfort to the worried, succor to the weary.
May your filled lamps help light the way through.

Sunday, March 22, 2020

Tapping Those Maples

Our experience here in New Hampshire this week has echoed 
those of so many of our family and friends: 
it has been unlike anything we've experienced before. 
We will make an attempt to recount those changes
and modifications and continuing miracles later.
This week's post will present something that we have been
looking forward to since Christmas: maple tree tapping.
Visually we were treated to a sublime trees experience last autumn.
Here at early March, the sweet payoff begins in a different way.
(The image above shows the "grades" of maple syrup produced
during the late part of the season [left] to early [right].
They are ALL considered Grade A!)
 Maple Festival weekends have been held here  
yearly for consecutive decades.
Health crisis situations forced it to be cancelled for 2020.
However, we made "safe" arrangements with Just Maple
in Tilton, just 27 minutes to the north of us in Goffstown
(who share a special friendly relationship with the Rose
family in Franklin, our acquaintances from the Canterbury Ward).
And so were able to travel up to have a private tour. 
Delightful and educational!
 New to us was the idea that the freeze/thaw balance by
early March was when trees are tapped and "sap" is collected
and processed. Quotation marks are added because sap brings
an often mistaken mental image from what is actually collected.
We learned that the below-freezing night temps with
daytime temps in the 40s is optimum, so March is maple season!
It is a very labor intensive, traditional craft, with some 
technology and streamlining upgrades.
Pure pleasure (double entendre intended) was it for us
to meet and be informed by Pure Maple at Green Acres Farm
 owners and operators Barbara and Roger Proulx, 
shown here (above) at the end of our visit in the gift shop. 
(Wish I had purchased one of everything!)
This "full-time" operation for them plus daughter and her husband
began as a a 4H "experiment".
But it has since turned into a significant enterprise.
Pure Maple takes the lead in a small co-op with folks farther
north where a younger generation are turning a family farm
and its acreage from an ag business to maple production.
Barbara gave us the royal treatment with a private session,
showing us (above) the sugar maple leaf, left, and the red maple
leaf, right. Sugar maples provide the best sap for syrup.
 She talked about the traditional methods of drilling into
the maple trunks so that the taps can reach through the bark
to the sapwood where fluids flow, using a hand "bit and brace" drill . . .
. . . with bit diameter around 5/8" that allows 
the tap to be lightly hammered into place.
Here are large and small taps, which are collected after use,
cleaned and re-used many years running. Barbara indicated they
have about 2500 taps in use each season.
Here Barbara shows how more modern methods use
rubber tap lines to form a collection system among
a forest of trees, with sap running into large collection tanks.
This example, below, shows the juncture of multiple tap lines.
Though mechanized to some extent, the operation
and process is still very labor intensive and requires
a lot of overseeing and monitoring to ensure 
optimum collection. New England states have associations
which assist them with outreach and marketing.
Barbara talked about their business focusing on wholesale
accounts for retail outlets, and how Pure Maple is committed
NOT to compete with neighboring operations and farms.
Part of Barbara's fun educational presentation includes
brief discussion of two "critters" that also love the sap.
On the left here is the yellow belly sap sucker, a member
of the wood pecker family. They like to use their strong beaks
to bore their own holes into the bark of the maples at just 
the right time of year where the sap will flow, attract bugs
(who also like the sweetness), and then the birds return to collect
and eat these delicacies which come sugar coated!
Squirrels can seem so cute, but they know how to take advantage
of the collected sap, so they are discouraged any way possible.
Once outside, we took a pic of the educational tree
to show the wood pecker holes.
Using a "cookie" from a tree that had to be cut down,
Barbara showed us the signs from previous years' tapping.
Well within the bark exterior layers, you can see the healed-over
tunnels where the taps once had been placed, 2-3 per tree.
The tree continued to grow, healing over and adding layers
beyond where the taps had entered the previous surface layers
and removed at the end of the sap collecting season.
Barbara recounted how she often has new-comers ask if tapping
HURTS or damages the trees. Her response points out
that it would be folly to damage the source of their income!
Barbara walked us outside to the "sample" tap tree
very near the gift shop, convenient
to assist with the demonstration and teaching.
Here we see the standard collection bucket with its
metal roof, which protects the sap from being diluted
from air moisture condensation or rain/snow fall.
Behind the demo tree she pointed out their "sugar bush" --
(pictured below) or the grove of maple trees which they harvest from.
She noted that because the tubing systems are gravity fed,
and their property slopes away and to the left in this pic,
their collection containers are about as far from the sugar shack
as they can be. They use a tractor to haul them back.
Barbara removed the roof from the demo tree bucket and
seemed a little surprised how full it was, because at 10 a.m.
that morning when we were there, they had already harvested
the sap collected here once already. Inside the bucket is what
appears to be clear water - and when she dipped and poured
a few tablespoons into our mini paper cups, it tasted like
lightly sweetened water. But how fun to experience that!
 Next, we walked to the evaporation "sugar" shack.
Through the open roof, we see the steam escape
as the sap is boiled down. From the smoke stack,
we see the wood smoke drift, a sure sign of the work going 
on inside. The white tanks are where the sap 
had been collected out in the bush then brought here.
Stepping into the shack, we met son-in-law Eric,
whose job was tending to the evaporation.
He monitors the temperature levels of the evap tank,
adds anti-foaming powder as needed,
gathers the loads of pine logs needed to
stoke the oven (Roger's job is splitting logs) . . .
. . . shown here (below) closed up and working hard.
 Eric watches the oven for at least 8 hours each day 
of the season, adding fuel every 3 minutes or so.
The multi-chambered evaporation stove moves the slowly
condensing liquid until it has reached the right consistency,
then it is collected, cooled and taken to the production kitchen,
cleaned, strained, filtered, then prepared for selling in different forms.
It takes 40 gallons of sap to make 1 gallon of syrup.
Pancakes for breakfast will never seem the same!
As the tour ended, we returned and enjoyed ourselves
in the gift shop. Just Maple produces syrup 
(cleaned, strained, filtered) plus maple sugar, candy, 
flavorings, and more. The list of maple products also 
available from other producers is very extensive. 
My favorite purchase did NOT survive
the trip home to be included in this image:
maple sugar coated pecans -- gifts from two trees
from the north and south of this wonderful country.
Our peace of mind and routines have been shaken this week,
but what a pleasure to venture out and enjoy this experience.
My lamp was filled at thoughts of these folks still willing
and interested in this traditional and historic industry
(it is thought to have originated by happy accident in
native cultures), for Barbara's willingness to spend her time
to welcome and enlighten and educate us, 
and for the spirit of cooperation that we got a glimpse at.

So now that you know what is involved in production,
make sure you take one final waffle to wipe up
and enjoy every last drop of syrup on your plate!
Take care and be safe!

Sunday, March 15, 2020

Traveling Toward Healing

My plans were to have a very different post this week
regarding an important step being taken by a wonderful,
new friend of ours here in New Hampshire. 
World-wide and local reactions to
the Corona-virus epidemic have changed those plans.
Instead, I will log in a short post to document the exceptional
week that it has been, otherwise a small blip or side note. 
By mid-December of 2019, I was noticing the return
of oral symptoms which indicated a reversal of a previous 
"miraculous" blessing allowing us to begin our mission on time.
A visit to a local oral surgeon confirmed it, and while treatment
was possible here in New Hampshire, of course, consultation
with my wonderful dental and oral surgeon team in Utah
convinced me it was best to travel back for quick treatment.
So we made flight arrangements out of Boston's Logan airport,
and opted to take a very convenient Boston Express
shuttle bus from a transit hub 12 minutes from our apartment
in north Londonderry (Exit 5).
 Our arrangements were on JetBlue (first timers) with
a flight that arrived at Salt Lake International at 11:55 p.m.
on Wednesday night. (Our return was slated for 11:59 p.m.
on Friday - October 13th, adjusted by JetBlue to 12 midnight.)
 An open Thursday morning and noon gave us a chance to visit
with each of our sons, then I checked in with my exceptional
dentist Daniel Harris who, according to his thoughtful . . . 
. . . and creative plan, severed my very long dental bridge between
the back two anchor molars so that the infected tooth could be
removed. Dr. Harris is part of Jordan River Dental office.
So with the first step completed, I went across campus . . .
. . . to the office of oral surgeon Dr. Kyle Christensen . . .
. . .where I was invited to sit comfortably with nitrous flowing
into my receptive blood stream . . . 
. . . until he would complete the extraction and bone graft,
and stitch me up to begin healing.
Dr. Christensen is the principal at
Wasatch Oral and Maxillofacial Surgery, and has
completed previous implants for me.
The two doctors are working together on a plan that will
guarantee me the best long term outcome.
This all sounds very straight forward, and essentially it was.
However, with all the COVID-19 concerns, my lingering
chest/head cold (including a cough) was bound to turn some heads.
I had called both dental offices before leaving New Hampshire
to make sure they would still see and treat me. But I had lingering
concerns about being semi-prone and having the need
to cough ramp up. It was a blessing that my cough was very much
controlled, during both flights, and during both procedures.
Of material assistance was Sister Matkin's willingness to loan
their warm vaporizer to help me recover and sleep at nights.
(She helpfully suggested that I could pack it - and I did:
here it is on my hotel night stand.)
The only "bump" in our experience was an unassociated physician
appointment that I had set up so that I could get a different
medication's effectiveness checked with my regular doctor
while in my home area. When I reported at the front desk,
the receptionist asked me about any cold or flu symptoms,
and I honestly said she could hear my laryngitis when I spoke.
I assured her that the cold had started before there were any
COVID cases reported in New Hampshire. I had never had a fever,
and this was a simple head cold. She handed me a mask,
and told me to reschedule - which I could not do.
It was a bit of a shock that as someone who was ill, 
I couldn't get help from a physician.
Since we have returned, Jordan River Dental has notified
their patients by email that if cold or flu symptoms exist, patients
should call to reschedule. 
I guess everyone is trying to help the effort.
To wrap things up, I will note how grateful I am for mission rules
that allowed me to travel home for this dental work, for excellent
and caring dental professionals who helped me, for the inventor
of lidocaine which allowed me to feel no pain during the procedure.
My lamp was filled by fellow missionary Sarah whose steamer
helped me both here and there, by family who cheered me
and surrounded me with their love as we chatted together and
encouraged each other in these difficult times.
Friend Andrea lifted her lamp for me as her positive attitude 
in the face of a dramatic change of baptism plans came 
with the words: It's all good. He has a plan for everything.
He knows what he is doing. . .

Now hopefully, as things continue to evolve in this virus crisis,
we can all work together, and with Heaven's help, perhaps
make it through the roadblocks on this road to healing.