Musing #15 - Maple Sugar Candy! (Supposedly)

I need to do some serious thinking (and praying!) about future blog posts, now that I've finished posting chapters of In His Hands. I want to thank you all so very much for joining me on that journey of chapter-posting! Your encouragement and wholehearted support has meant a lot to me :-).
I did have one idea for a story, and now, with no further ado, I present to you:

Maple Sugar Candy! (Supposedly)

NOTE: How many of you have read Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House in the Big Woods? Ever wanted to try the new recipe of "maple sugar candy"? Or maybe you have tried it; if so, be sure and comment and tell me how it went for you! This story is based off what happened to me when I tried to make the taffy form of maple syrup :-). (Of course, however, I had to change things up a bit and throw in "Mom" as the candy-maker, considering Libby is only eleven years old.)

***

  "Mom, Mom, it's snowing outside," eleven-year-old Libby exclaimed, racing into the kitchen. Her auburn curls were tangles about her face. Beneath the wild locks, her cheeks were a bright pink. Her blue eyes sparkled. "You should just see it, Mom! It's beautiful."

  Mom smiled and dipped a spoon in her pot of oatmeal. She blew on the spoon, then took a tiny taste. "Needs more salt," she murmured to herself, setting the spoon down and reaching for the salt shaker. To Libby she said, "I know, sweetheart. I've been watching through the window."

  Seemingly unaware that her mom had responded, Libby skipped about the kitchen. "I'm so glad it's Saturday," she bubbled. "That means no school, and not many chores. Lots of time for Jedidiah and me to go sledding, and snowball-fighting, and - "

  Dad walked into the kitchen just then, and Libby ran to him and threw her arms about his waist.

  "Well," Dad chuckled, returning the embrace, "that's quite the welcome."

  "Oh, Dad, I'm just so excited," Libby said. She released her hold on her father and continued her hopping about the kitchen. "We haven't seen snow since -"

  "Libby," Mom cut in, her voice soft and reproving, "I am glad that you're happy about the snow, but please do your joyful dance in another pair of shoes."

  At her mom's words, Libby stopped cold. Her gaze dropped to her boots, then wandered about the floor. Oops. Slushy snow was everywhere! 

 Libby lifted her head and offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Mom. I'll clean it up."

  "Good," Mom commended. "Afterwards you may call Jedidiah in for breakfast. The oatmeal is almost ready."

  "Yes, Mom."

***

  "Mom, may Jed and I please go sledding?" Libby begged, standing on her tiptoes before her mother.

  "Have you finished your chores?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Every last one." Libby held up her hand and began to tick the tasks off with her fingers. "I cleaned my room, fed the chickens and gathered the eggs, took care of Buttercup, and cleared the table. Jed lent a hand with the dishes." She sent her brother a bright smile. Dishes were a tedious task - even with this new-fangled machine called a "dishwasher" - and it was nice to have help.

  "All right," Mom agreed. She looked up at the clock. "It's eight-thirty now. You have until ten o'clock."

   Libby squealed her joy, gave her mother a quick embrace, and ran for her snow-gear. "C'mon, Jed!"

***

   "Wait . . . until . . . I get . . . up there . . . Libby," the girl's red-cheeked little brother panted. He trudged his way up the thick snow, lugging his sled behind him. "Don't go down . . . without me!"

  "I won't," Libby promised. She took a deep breath of cold, fresh air and swiped a tendril of hair from her face. No avail. Another crisp breeze blew the curl right back into her eyes. 
   Libby flopped down onto her sled. Her golden puppy, Buttercup, bounded over and hopped onto her lap. Her warm, wet tongue swiped across Libby's chilled face. Libby giggled. "Easy, girl," she said, scratching between the dog's ears. 
  "Well, are we . . . going down or . . . ain't we?"
  Libby looked up. She grinned. "Glad to see you made it to the top, Jedidiah. Of course we're going down, once you're ready."
  He grinned back and dropped his sled to the ground. Throwing himself atop the sled, he grabbed the ropes of his sled. "I'm ready."
  "Yippee!" Libby set Buttercup on the snow alongside her sled. "Follow us, girl." She grasped her own ropes and beamed at her brother. "Don't worry, Jedidiah. You know that the ride downhill is always easier - and more fun - than the walk uphill." She leaned forward. "Race?"
 He offered a breathless nod and pushed his cap farther down on his head.
  Inward shivers of excitement skittered up and down Libby's spine. It's been two long years since a brisk, long ride on the snow with my brother. "Ready," she said, "set, go!"
  The siblings pushed off with exceptional force. They flew down the hill in a flurry of white snow and red sleds. 
  Libby's scarf ripped wildly in the wind. She laughed and squealed. "I'm way ahead of you, Jedidiah!"
  "No, you're not!" Jedidiah yelled as he whizzed past.
  Libby's smile split her face in the thrill of a race. And I'm gonna win!
  She shifted all of her weight to the front of the sled and leaned as far forward as she could without toppling into the snow, sled and all. The wind blew in violent gusts against her, forcing her eyes to squeeze shut. She could feel her hat lift, and she hurried to grab it.
  Oof!
  All of a sudden, Libby had run smack into a huge, towering snowdrift. The snow fell down upon her in bitter, heavy clumps. She yelped.
  "Libby!"
  Jedidiah's shout seemed to come from far off. Two minutes later, he was at her side, scooping off the snow in great heaps. Libby spluttered and shook the snow from her hair. Where's my hat?
   Locating the piece of clothing in a clump of snow, she yanked it out. She attempted to place it again upon her head, but it was covered in the prickly, cold flakes of snow, and it only succeeded in chilling her farther. With a shiver, she flung it away.
  "Thanks for your help," she told Jedidiah as she pulled herself to her feet. It was difficult, as her two layers of clothes were thick and heavy, and her body already shook with cold and fright. "I'm freezing now - chilled to the very bone. I'm ready to head back inside." She grimaced as her stockinged feet sloshed around in boots full of snow. 
  "Okay," Jed agreed. "Are you sure you're all right? Do you need help walking back to the house?"
  "I-I'm fine," Libby said. "I can get back by myself. I'll ask Mom for a mug of hot cocoa."
  Jedidiah nodded and turned. "All right. I'm going off for another ride." With that, he began the slow walk uphill, then shouted over his shoulder, "Save me some hot chocolate!"
  "I will!" Libby hollered back. She brushed the snow from her jacket and sneezed. 
  Woof! Woof!
  Libby looked down and smiled. "Howdy, Buttercup." She knelt to scoop the puppy up in her arms. "Are you cold, too?"
  The pup licked her mistress' face and yipped.
  "I'll give you a ride," Libby said. She placed Buttercup upon the sled and grasped the rope. "Let's go."

***

  "You stay here, girl," Libby said, placing Buttercup in the wood-box on their porch. "I'll come get you when Mom makes us a warm, tasty snack." With that she turned and flung the door open. 
  "Mom! Oh, Mom!"

  "Libby?" Mom stepped into the kitchen, eyes wide with surprise. "What're you doing back so soon? Where's Jed?"

  Through chattering teeth, Libby explained. Then she asked, "May I go change my clothes and make some cocoa?"

  "Yes, change your clothes with all do speed," Mom answered. "Then come back here."

  Libby bounded off. She threw off her snowy clothes and wriggled into a fresh, warm pair of pajamas. She used her brush to remove the white flakes from her hair. Her curls hung, loose and damp, about her neck. She shivered and pulled on a sweater.

  Running back downstairs, she found Mom in the kitchen.

  "Are you making a pot of cocoa?" Libby inquired, squinting at the object in her mother's hands. Maple syrup? It couldn't be, but "MAPLE SYRUP" was written plainly on the label. Since when did we make cocoa using maple syrup? 

  "No, honey," Mom said. "We have no cocoa mix left. I was thinking of another fun winter treat." She smiled at her daughter and held up the jug of maple syrup. "Ever had maple sugar candy?"

  Libby shook her head. "No, but I've read about it in my books." She gasped and clasped her hands together. "Oh, Mom, are we making candy?"

  Mom's smile grew wider. "Yes, we are."

  "Oh, yay!" Libby did a happy twirl and reached for her little apron. "What can I do?"

  Mom reached into the cabinet. She pulled out a pie pan. "Fill this with snow," she said, handing it to Libby. "Pack it down and leave it outside. I'll boil the syrup."

  Libby nodded, plunged her feet into a pair of boots, grabbed the pan and her gloves, and dashed to the door. Flinging it open, she set the pan down and pulled on her gloves. Then she grabbed handfuls of fresh, clean snow and packed it deep down into the pan. She set the pan on the porch railing and firmly instructed Buttercup to leave it be; then she stepped inside, shut the door, and ran back to the kitchen. "Finished, Mom," she said.

  "Thank you, dear." Mom stood by the stove. A pot was on the burner, and she was stirring the contents briskly. 

  "What're you doing?" Libby asked, wandering over, but keeping her distance. 

  "Boiling the syrup," Mom answered. "It must reach a high temperature before we pour it over the snow."
  Libby watched, enthralled, as her mom stirred and tilted and poked at the syrup with something she called a "candy thermometer." At last, Mom said, "It's ready. Hurry, Libby, and get the snow!"
  Libby wasted not a second; she dashed for the door, threw it open, and grabbed her pan of snow. Scurrying back inside, she dropped the container with a soft plunk on the countertop. "Here, Mom," she panted.
  Mom flashed a grateful smile and began to drizzle the syrup over the snow. Libby stared in fascination. But even to her young eye, something just didn't seem right. She bit her lip, however, and refrained from saying anything. Mom surely knew what she was doing, and after all, Libby had never seen maple sugar candy set before.
  The pot of boiled syrup was at last drained, and the snow a funny brown color.
  Mom set the pot aside and stood before the pan, hands on her hips. "That's odd." She poked the mixture with her finger and took a tiny taste. "It should be thicker, and more . . . well . . . taffy-like."
   "That's okay, Mom," Libby said. "Maybe, if we gave it a few minutes to set, it'll turn into taffy."
   However, not even a few minutes turned the maple-soaked snow to "taffy," or anything that resembled taffy. Libby looked at her mom and sighed. Mom looks awful disappointed. And no wonder! This stuff looks like maple slush. Another sigh. I'm disappointed, too.
   The two were so busy studying the candy they didn't even notice that Libby had left the door open. Not until two soggy paws caught at Libby's dress, and a wet nose pressed against her apron. "Buttercup!" she exclaimed, kneeling, "How'd you get in?"
   Jedidiah stepped in next. "Did you save me any of that cocoa, Libby? I -" On catching sight of the pan on the countertop, he stopped short. "What's that?"
  "Maple sugar candy," Mom said. Her shoulders slumped. "Well, at least it should be."
   "What's going on in here?" It was Dad. He removed his coat and glanced at the maple snow. "What's that, Marian?"
  Mom crossed her arms. "Maple ice."
  "Hmm." Crossing the room, Dad opened the silverware drawer and grabbed a spoon. "Sounds good to me." With that, he scooped up the slush and took a hearty bite. "Mm! Delicious."
  "Oh, me, too!" Jedidiah hollered. He picked up a spoon and dug in. "Oh, it's yummy." He smacked his lips and dove for another spoonful. "Just like maple syrup."
   Libby glanced up, and her mom smiled down at her. "I reckon I have my family's approval," Mom whispered.
   Libby wrapped an arm around her mom's waist and squeezed. "That's right, Mom. Maple ice it is!" 
    And she hastened to get her own spoon, before Jed, Dad, and Mom ate all that maple ice themselves. Buttercup licked the slush that fell to the floor, and all in all it was a very pleasant ending to a snowy January day.

Maple Sugar Candy (not ice or slush)

Image Credit: Apartment Therapy