August at Lemon Squeezy Farms: More Happened Than I Thought

I can’t be the only one who sometimes feels like life just blends together from one day to the next and nothing really happens.

Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Feed animals. Water something. Collect eggs. Do chores. Go to bed. Repeat.

And then I stop and look back over an entire month and realize, Good grief. A LOT happened.

This past month brought some pretty amazing moments to Lemon Squeezy Farms, along with one especially wonderful celebration that happened a few hours away from the farm.

Celebrating 85 Years

My family and I threw an 85th birthday party for my dad!

Marc and I left the farm for a couple of days to spend the weekend celebrating with family. Moments like these have a way of making me stop and really drink in the day.

My three sisters and I don’t get together nearly enough, but we worked together to make Dad’s celebration special. Everyone had a wonderful time, but most importantly, Dad had a wonderful time.

At the end of the evening, one of my sisters asked him what he thought of his party.

His response?

“It was better than I could have ever imagined.”

Even writing those words gives me chills.

What a gift to have the opportunity to celebrate 85 years of someone’s life while they’re sitting right there, surrounded by the people who love them. It was one of those days I hope I never forget.

Then Marc and I headed home, back to Lemon Squeezy Farms, where apparently everyone had been busy while we were gone.

My dad, 85 years YOUNG!

One Goodbye and One Very Pregnant Cat

When we returned home, two things were confirmed.

First, Walter was no longer around Lemon Squeezy Farms.

Second, there was absolutely no question that Clementine was pregnant.

I’m so sad that Walter is gone. He was the larger of our two kitten brothers. I even went back through their veterinary records and confirmed that Walter consistently weighed about half a pound more than Jesse.

But Walter was also always more independent. He was a bit of a loner and more likely to strike out on his own, while Jesse tended to stay close to his mama and would come running to us when we were outside.

I wish I knew what happened to Walter. Farm life sometimes leaves us with questions we don’t get answers to, and this seems to be one of them.

Once Walter was gone, Jesse turned his attention to the only two options he had left: his mama…and us.

Meanwhile, Clementine has obviously been making friends with one of the Toms from across the road.

Initially, I felt a little bad for her. She’s young, and now she looks like a barrel with four little legs sticking out underneath her.

But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited.

I think those kittens will be here soon. The other night, I could actually see them moving inside her belly! Watching those little movements brought back memories of carrying my own children and feeling them kick, roll, and move.

What an incredible miracle and privilege that is.

As Clementine’s belly grew, though, she began pushing Jesse away. It was hard to watch, but nature knows what it’s doing. Clementine needed to prepare herself for her new kittens.

And Jesse needed to grow up.

Or…

He needed to find someone with a particularly soft spot for ginger kitties.

Meet Mr. Pom Pom, House Cat

Lucky for Jesse, he picked the right house.

I started noticing him hanging around our front door and then making his way around to the back. He’d jump onto the deck railing and show off his balancing skills. Every now and then, he’d start climbing the sliding screen door before apparently realizing halfway up that he’d made a terrible decision.

Jesse has pluck.

And I love that about him.

One evening, he was sitting outside the back door, so I opened the sliding glass door just a tiny bit to see what he would do.

Bit by bit, Jesse inched his way toward the opening.

One paw.

Then another.

Across the threshold…

And that was it.

Jesse became a house cat.

I gave him a good bath, and he has settled in like an absolute pro.

Even Olive is being won over! Once the two of them figured out their relationship, they started playing together, hanging out together, and even napping together. The transition has been almost unbelievably seamless.

Jesse, or Mr. Pom Pom, as I like to call him, will be neutered in a little more than a week.

Yes. He will lose his pom poms.

And that’s a good thing. 😂

Clementine, meanwhile, is doing wonderfully. She sleeps in the barn and stays close to home. Marc and I have prepared a special space for her in the garage, a feline maternity ward, if you will.

I know we could simply let her have her kittens in the barn, but I worry about the babies disappearing or something happening to them. Once Clementine has finished raising her kittens and is able to be spayed, she will be making a trip to the vet too.

She’s such a sweet cat. She follows us around the farm supervising whatever we’re doing and is perfectly happy sitting beside us at the fire pit.

Clementine is definitely a keeper.

Jesse settling enjoying the comforts of home.

We Finally Let the Broody Hens Do Their Thing!

For the first time at Lemon Squeezy Farms, we let a broody hen complete the job from beginning to end.

Not once.

Twice!

We’ve incubated eggs and hatched chicks ourselves, but we’d never stepped back and let one of our hens handle the entire process.

Our first mama chose an unused doghouse as her maternity ward.

And then one day…

Poof!

There were ELEVEN tiny chicks around her, underneath her, climbing over her, and seemingly everywhere at once.

It was precious.

Initially, we thought we’d gather the chicks and put them into a brooder.

That plan lasted approximately until we discovered just how FAST free-range baby chicks are.

We decided to leave well enough alone and let Mama do her job.

And she did.

For the next few weeks, those chicks stayed close to their mother. Two other hens even helped out, and Buckeye, our beautiful rooster, served as bodyguard and protector.

Then one day we came home from work and saw feathers.

Feathers scattered around the farm are rarely something you want to see.

We immediately started trying to figure out who was missing.

Most of the flock was bunched together, and then we noticed the gray shading of the feathers. We also noticed there were fewer chicks, and Buckeye was protecting those who remained.

The next day, Marc found the remains of the mama hen.

She was gone.

And suddenly Buckeye wasn’t just the protector.

He became Mama Hen.

For about a week, he did a pretty remarkable job looking after those chicks.

Then we came home one evening to another heartbreaking scene.

Only two of the original eleven chicks remained, and Buckeye was gone.

We followed a trail of his beautiful feathers through the shelterbelt and toward the cornfield to the south.

Buckeye had been taken too.

He was such a beautiful rooster, and when the situation demanded it, he stepped up and did a pretty darn good job of being a mama hen.

Today, only one chick from that original group of eleven remains.

I’ve named it Eleven.

And you can bet I’m rooting for that little chick.

Thankfully, our second broody-hen story has been much happier.

Mama Number Two chose a particular bush that apparently met all of her nesting requirements and successfully hatched nine chicks.

I’m very happy to report that Mama and all nine babies are alive, well, and accounted for!

She seems to have a wonderful instinct for keeping her babies close and safe.

Bravo, Mama Hen!

Mama hen and a few of her chicks.

Heat, Wind and a Struggling Garden

This summer has been a hot one.

It has also been WINDY.

So windy, in fact, that I haven’t spent nearly as much time as I’d like in one of my favorite places on the farm: our fire pit.

Between the heat, wind, and stretches without rain, my garden has struggled.

The season isn’t over yet, but I’ll admit I’m disappointed.

That’s okay.

This winter I’ll have plenty of time to plan, rethink things, move things around, and decide what I want to do differently next year.

Gardens are good teachers that way. Sometimes you get abundance. Sometimes you get lessons.

For now, we’ll keep watering, tending, picking whatever decides to produce, and doing our best to close out the season strong.

And if all else fails?

We’ll limp across the finish line.

That still counts.

Six Good Girls Head Off on a New Adventure

And then came another big change at Lemon Squeezy Farms.

Last Friday evening, Marc and I did one final hoof trimming for six of our goats.

We had found a somewhat local farmer who was looking to expand his herd, and six of our girls would be going to live with him.

One by one, each girl got some extra attention as we trimmed her hooves.

And while I worked, I talked to them.

I told them what good girls they were.

I told them they were about to go on an adventure.

I told them they’d be okay.

Do goats understand any of that?

I’m not going to debate it either way.

What I do know is that it makes me feel better.

When each girl’s pedicure was finished, she got a few animal crackers, their favorite treat.

The next morning, the farmer arrived with his trailer.

I had already told Marc that I wasn’t going outside to help load them.

I’m always grateful that he understands me well enough to understand why sometimes I need to sit these things out.

So I watched from the kitchen window.

And I cried.

But then…

I put on my favorite goat-roping hat.

I slipped into my muck boots.

And I went outside.

There were three girls left to round up, and I decided I needed to be there.

The farmer had brought his five-year-old son along, and that little boy was so excited about bringing the goats home.

He talked to them.

He fed them leaves.

He was absolutely delighted with them.

And somewhere in watching that little boy love on those goats, my heart settled.

I could smile.

These six girls were staying together.

They were wanted.

And they were heading somewhere they would be loved.

So, from Lemon Squeezy Farms, thank you for the memories:

Ruby.
Moondance.
Angelina.
Poppy.
Peaches.
Rosie.

You were six very good girls.

And Then There Were Five

With their departure, our goat herd has become considerably smaller.

We now have one gentleman, Ward, and his four ladies:

June, Fiona, Mabel, and Jill.

Five goats.

That’s it.

Well…

For now.

If Ward understands his upcoming job description, we’re hoping for a busy kidding season next spring!

And maybe that’s the perfect place to end this month’s update.

At the beginning of this post, I said that sometimes it feels like nothing really happens. The days roll into one another, chores repeat themselves, and life can feel wonderfully, frustratingly ordinary.

But then I look back.

We celebrated 85 years of my dad’s life.

We wondered where Walter went.

We watched kittens moving inside Clementine.

Jesse crossed a threshold and became Mr. Pom Pom, House Cat.

Two hens became mothers.

Buckeye became a mama hen when he needed to.

We lost some.

We welcomed others.

The garden struggled.

Six goats left our farm.

And somewhere in the middle of all of it, Marc and I just kept getting up every morning and doing the next thing.

Maybe that’s what life really looks like.

Not one enormous moment after another, but hundreds of ordinary little moments that become something extraordinary when you put them all together.

So here we are at Lemon Squeezy Farms, heading toward the end of another summer.

A smaller herd.

A pregnant barn cat.

A new house cat.

Chicks running everywhere.

A garden we’re trying not to give up on.

And two people continuing forward…

One day. One chore. One animal cracker. One step at a time.

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.”
Ecclesiastes 3:1 (KJV)

And around here, every season seems to come with a little manure on its boots.

Until next time from Lemon Squeezy Farms. 🍋