#sugar shack

[fannyrosie]

Le temps des sucres

Dress: second-hand Métamorphose temps de fille; Turtleneck: second-hand Cecil McBee; Cape/shawl: thrifted; Beret: local artist (gift); Boots: old Cobb Hill; Brooches: mix of artists from Design Festa and handmade by me

[balkanparamo]

The Sugar Shack

Ernie Barnes (African-American,1938-2009)

[lesorciercanadien]

Legends of the Sugar Shack

Tomorrow is our community's sugar shack breakfast in Halifax, and as I am awaiting those sweet treats and lively music, I'm going to share some tall tales from the sugar shack. Be careful when you're alone in the shack at night, in the middle of the wilds... you don't know what's out there.

As human nature would dictate, waiting all night, watching the hearth fires dance and flick, they would tell each other stories of nostalgia, hauntings, far-fetched quests, and merriment to keep each other awake. So, 'tire-toé une bûche!' (pull up a log), and let's dive in!

The Snowshoed Revenant

The deceased owner can return to torment the sugar makers during the night. One tale speaks of a deep dark night in the cabin, while the sugar was boiling, the sugar maker witnessed a revenant sitting on his porch, his boots laced into snowshoes. After a while, the strange man took off his snowshoes, shook them and banged them together to shake off the snow, and placed them against the wall. The sugar maker never got to see the revenant's face, as it was always covered by a thick scarf. He came many nights. One night, he spoke to the sugar maker after he partook in his usual snowshoe removal ritual. The revenant said that he was his father-in-law, having died without having returned two pieces of iron he had stolen during his life. "If you return these two objects to this family, you would never see me darken your doorstep." So, the sugar maker returned the objects to the family, and he never did see his father-in-law haunting his porch after that. (Jean-Claude Dupont, 1978.)

The Ghost Owl

There was a sugar boiler who, as he was tending to the hearth fires in the dead of night, heard a low moan that echoed into a stuttered, gravely sigh. It would come from the shadows of the shack just outside the door. He would open the door to see what could have made that awful noise, but there was nothing there. As he settled into his bunk, the noises returned, followed by cold-blooded scratching sounds on the roof. Overtaken by fear, the sugar boiler left the shack as quick as he could and headed for home. When he returned to his boiling shift the following night, the same haunting moans came back. He thought that it could be some "connaissances" (translates to 'relations'; the French-Canadian traditional word for ghosts of family members that come in the dead of night to watch you or remind you to say a prayer for them). He couldn't take his fears gnawing at him, and bolted for home once again. The following morning, he made his way to the presbytery to pay for a Mass sung for the poor soul that was haunting him. As the night closed in, and every night of the sugar season after that, not a peep was heard. When the sap stopped flowing, as the sugar maker was cleaning up the tubes among the trees to store them for the year, he found his dreaded ghost. It was a great owl, now dead, having been strangled in the tube lines. (from A. Pomerleau, from Saint-Séverin de Beauce, Quebec 1974).

Folkloric note: to see a white owl in your sugar maple groves is a sure sign of terrible awful, deadly bad luck. You are supposed to stop all work for the day and go home. Some legends tell of an unfortunate worker who despite seeing the ghostly apparition, kept on working. His body would be found crushed by a rotten tree, not having paid attention to the bad omen.

The Good Spiders of the Shack

One day, a man was running through the woods, being pursued by a bloodthirsty bandit. Seeing a lone sugar shack in the grove, the poor man dived through the door and hid among the bunks. As soon as the door shut, the spiders wove a lovely web that shone in the springtime sun, covering a large part of the door. As the bandit approached the windows and door, he noticed that the thick spiderwebs of the door's lintel hung like a thick curtain, showing that the shack hasn't been disturbed for years. The man, thanks to the shack's industrious spiders, was saved from his fate. (M. Ferron & R. Cliche 1972.)

Cultural note: it was the social expectation to never, ever lock your sugar shack all year-long. This was to ensure wanderers always had a chance to survive in the wilderness if they were ever stuck without supplies or shelter.

The Loup-Garou in the Sugar Shack

One night, the sugar boiler had a really hard time staying awake to watch his fires. As his eyes cloaked with sleep, the front door blasted open, and a mess of black fur as big as a salting barrel rolled in. The sugar boiler sprung from his bunk in a fright, but didn't forget his hatchet, ready to strike the mysterious intruder. This beast, with no discernible legs or head, moved in to circle him in. The hatchet met the loup-garou's shape, and as the blood flowed, the black fury calmed down to show a man, bent-over with fatigue. The sugar boiler recognized him as one of his neighbours. The neighbour shook his hand, saying, "Thank you for freeing me! I was cursed to spend every night in this hideous form, raving around, hoping someone would make me bleed!" The man picked up his desiccated furs, and made his way back to his own shack, just over the hill. (Marius Barbeau, 1933.) Painting: A werewolf returning home. S H Vedder in Pall Mall 1901

Witchy Learnings: Taking inspiration from folk tales

The Sugar Shack is by definition a very liminal and enchanted place. Anything and everything can happen! It's a space of shelter and protection, warmth, and where revenants, loup-garous, devils, and will-o-the-wisps can appear any time. A place where Fire and Water meet, in the constant heat of the hearth-fires (they can never die out, they need to keep boiling the sap), and the tree's water being collected and boiled. These two combine to create a sustaining sweet treat for the entire community, fostering a sense of shared delight and merriment.

Spiders can prove to be powerful allies in protecting your home/sugar shack/cabin. You can keep the spider webs near your doors untouched.

Keep your knife/hatchet sharp and sheathed in your altar (just to cut curses, DO NOT harm anyone).

Listen to your ancestors if they show up in a dream or even in your mediumship readings. Do they need you to fulfill a favour? Pay a mass for their soul? To have a candle lit or prayer said? Did you take care of your dead recently?

Owls in my practice are considered bad luck. I had an owl as my altar guardian before but lol you learn cultural cues as you go. I got a rooster instead.

The social expectation to never leave your sugar shack locked applies today to your own attitude towards helping others. Do you shut people out, not wanting to create a fuss or bother? Maybe revisit that, especially this time of year. Many may be struggling to survive.

To close off this sugar shack season, since I'll be busy getting married in three weeks, and moving to a new place, here's Diable à Cinq playing "On t'attend à cabane", a rallying tune for chasing away the winter blues to gather among friends, collect sugar water, boiling it, and celebrating the bounty from the trees.

« Je sais mon loup la vie peut être tough On est perdu et des fois on s'empoche Les noirceurs d'l'hiver sont presque finis On est au printemps pis tout reprend vie. »

"I know my wolf (term of endearment) life can be tough,

We are lost and sometimes we stumble,

The darkness of winter is almost over,

We are in spring and all revives."

[fanfanlemoko]

Partie de sucre à la Cabane Joyeuse, Saint-Raymond-de-Portneuf, Québec, années 1890.

[gbiechele]

New England History

Various Vintage Lenses

[sonicandvisualsurprises]

Visit Original Link

1967

Sugar Shack A-Go-Go bursts with manic energy, driven by a gritty, overdriven fuzz guitar riff that cuts through the mix like a chainsaw.

[gadawg-404]

Sugar Shack

Orlando Florida

[papillondusublime]

7 haïkus (dans le même ordre que les photos auxquelles ils correspondent):

1) Ciel bleu, glace noire, J’ai vu neiger blanc semblant… Cœur bleu, humour noir

2) Le poney : pogné… À être monté comme un Ski-doo tiguidou

3) Dehors y fait frette… Je m’encabane en cabane À sucre, pur sucre

4) Au Québec, quels becs Sucrés et salés se frenchent… No hablo inglés!

5) La tire d’érable? Moi, je tire des rats bleus… Bâton, battons-les!

6) Poutine envahit Ma langue roumaine : explosent… Les saveurs en bouche

7) Pompiers! Mon cœur brûle D’envie que fonde la neige… Par chaleur humaine