A Day to Remember

We had a big day yesterday.  It started with A. going outside at 5:30 a.m. to fire up the evaporator in preparation for more sugarin'.

Well, actually, it technically started with me getting up at 4:45 a.m. so I could take a shower, but that's not at all memorable, so let's move on.

Jason arrived at 6:45 a.m. and Cubby demanded to go outside.  Cubby is a big fan of Jason's.  What's not to like?  The man drives a truck, provides us with fish, and is associated with maple syrup.  These are all positives in Cubby's book.


So we went outside to pay homage to Jason.  A couple of hours later, the MiL came outside to tell us that my sister-in-law was at the hospital, in labor and working to deliver Cubby's brand-new girl cousin unto us.  YAY!  Oh, and also the tree guy called and he was coming to take down the enormous and worryingly hollow ash tree looming over some power lines near the garden.

Ten minutes later, Tree Guy arrives with his enormous truck and proceeds to hop in the man lift, fire up a chainsaw, and start cutting branches way high up in the air.  Cubby was transfixed.  Of course.

AND THEN.

Just when Cubby was sure the day couldn't get any better, a huge diesel truck pulling a trailer loaded with a real tractor came up the driveway.  And the tractor had a wood chipper on the back of it.

I thought Cubby was going to pass out from joy.  Instead, he purposefully approached the tractor, inquiring "Drive?  Cubby*?" This should not surprise anyone, given his history. When informed that he would not be operating that particular piece of heavy machinery, he then switched to "Drive?  Man?"  He repeated this approximately every five minutes until one of the men did actually drive the tractor into position.  Then they drove the diesel truck behind it and started chipping the branches.

You are looking at my son's idea of heaven.  God help me.

The tree guys finished around 11:30 a.m., just in time to bring Cubby inside for his nap at noon.  What with all the activity of the morning, he was naturally exhausted and slept for three hours.  That afternoon, he spoke what is really, truly, and technically his first grammatically correct sentence with no pauses.  He was busily hammering at a chunk of wood near the evaporator and talking to himself when, clear as day, I heard him say, "Good job, Cubby**!"

Okay.  Self-congratulations.  Better than orders to his mother, I guess.

At 4:45 p.m., the MiL called to let us know that Cubby's cousin had arrived safely and all concerned were doing well.

At 5:45 p.m., I called a halt to the sugarin' so the sugarers--and Cubby--could come inside and eat dinner.

At 7 p.m., Cubby went to bed and I did dishes.

At 8:30 p.m., a large pot containing nine quarts of maple syrup was borne into the kitchen to be strained and put into jars.

At 9 p.m., I finished washing all the pots and other accouterments of sugarin'.

At 9:01 p.m., A. and I dragged ourselves upstairs and into bed.

It was a long day, but a productive and exciting one.  Sugarin', tree removal, first sentences, and a brand-new baby.  Not bad for a random Wednesday in February.

* He did not technically say this, as he doesn't actually refer to himself as Cubby.  But we must keep the mystery alive, mustn't we?

**  See disclaimer above.