Molasses 2005

This past weekend was Molasses Making 2005. It was the earliest any of us can ever remember doing it and I can attest that if we do it this early again next year it may come to blows. There is a big temperature difference between last August and late September in eastern North Carolina. I sound like Dad now, but whatever could go wrong, did this year. The carburetor leaked badly and we got it down to a slow leak. While I wasn't there to witness it, apparently the leak still led to the Model A's engine catching on fire. Ed threw a bucket of water at the engine to put out the flames only to find out that the bucket also had four cans of Dr. Pepper in it. At least no one was hit with a flying soda can.

The harness above the cooker has settled to where the boiler couldn't be lifted off the fire without replacing hardware. We found this out around 5:30pm on Sunday. As Dad fished around for stuff he said, "well there are lots of options but everything takes a half a day." He and Kenny managed to rig something up that worked okay and cooking was underway around 6:45pm.

We had to leave around 7 in order to get home at a reasonable hour. I hated to leave Daddy there with so little help. He looked very tired. But we all had to get home for work on Monday. I have dreams of how we'll be better organized next year. And no cane shall be cut until after September 15th if we can help it.

I didn't stay long enough to get pics of the pouring off of the molasses. But here are a few pics. They all start to look the same year and year except the people get older looking.

Molasses Making 2005 I'm still working on my damn photo gallery software, so sort by FileName Ascending if you want them in chronological order.

Things we learned this year for next year

• Never ever try to make molasses in August. It's too damn hot and it conflicts with Curtis' okra crop.
• One row of cane makes over a barrel of juice (ideally). This year we got about 65 gallons or so.
• 50 gallons of juice should yield 7 gallons of molasses
• We filled 7 "donut buckets" this year (each being a little over a gallon to leave room for foam).
• We put the juice on at 6:45pm and Daddy and Curtis took it up around 10pm. Unfortunately, it was underdone.
• Curtis used a fork thermometer this year and it read 226 degrees F just before they took it up.
• The carburetor is leaking and should be looked at before next year.
• Sandy soil from the back field works well for packing the edges of the boiler. Ideally, we should go out and build up the edges with concrete.

In my wildest dreams I would see going down to the farm a few weeks ahead of time to prep the area. But we'll see how things are going for us this time next year.

Just keep it out of my eye

I called and left a message for a dude, asking him to call me back with details about his "external exception error." He called me back about 10 minutes later and after I told him that I had some details on file he asked, "So do you have specific questions about anything or should I just unload all over you?" Must. Control. Snicker.

Every naughty comment alarm was blaring in my head. I managed to calmly suggest, "why don't you just give me a recap on the problems you've been seeing and we'll see what we can do for you."

He's gone

And just like that, he's gone. He waited for me to get home and finish my conference call. I told him last night that I wasn't ready for him to die then, but if he gave me one more day I'd be okay with it. And he rallied for me. He perked up and ate some kitty treats and used his litter box and even purred a little for me this morning. But he started the belly crawl again around 2pm today. And Rich called me to tell me he was sitting up there with him. My poor father. I called him at 3:15 and left a sobbing voicemail that I had to pull my shit together long enough for my 3:30 phone call and then I needed him to come over and help me decide if it was time to take him to the vet because I couldn't do it by myself. So he came over and we decided it was time. He was only breathing in gasps every 15 seconds or so. And he was becoming less and less responsive.

Of course, he would decide to start dying during rush hour. I've never been so frustrated with traffic in all my life, Rich weaving through lanes of cars while I tried to help my gurgling cat breath in my arms. But he held out until we got to the vet. He was too far gone for us to put an IV in him and take our time like with Connor. But Dr. Smithwick gave him a small shot to help him over that edge and put him to sleep. They wrapped him up and put him in a little cardboard kitty coffin and handed him back to me within a few minutes of bringing him in. I probably looked like a crazy woman, sobbing and desperately hugging this cardboard box in the car.

I'm so glad we took him home. We went to my parents and Daddy and Rich dug a hole for him next to Lady and Buddy. And I was consoled that he was home. I felt almost good that he's not hurting anymore. I miss him a lot. But he died without a single flea on him and with a belly full of kitty treats. And that's the best I could do for him.

Part of me wanted to go out and get some dinner. To enjoy an evening of going to a restaurant that we pick based on the menu and not how long will it take to eat and will an animal die in the house while we're gone. But in the end, I was just too tired. So weary. So Rich went and got me sandwiches and I hunted for pictures of our little guy. I can't find the really good one of him on Jeremy's head. But I did find some classics. I had forgotten how much he terrorized Sarah. Maybe that was part of her neurosis years ago was waiting for Loki to pounce. He certainly lived up to his name.

You can look at more pictures of him here. He has his own album under family.