Before the Snow Flies: Making Room for the Moments That Matter

Well, hello there, September!

I’m not quite sure how September arrived at our doorstep already, but here we are.

This is such an interesting time of year, especially up North. I’m looking forward to cooler weather and fall decorations. I’m ready to pack away my white jeans because, yes, I am firmly in the no white after Labor Day camp. And I may even cave and get myself a pumpkin spice latte.

But not quite yet.

Because this is also the time of year when I want to squeeeeeze every last ounce of life out of this strange, wonderful in-between season. Summer isn’t exactly over, fall hasn’t completely arrived, and winter is lurking somewhere off in the distance, waiting for its opportunity to barge through the door without knocking.

And this is when I have to remind myself:

Calm down. Look around. Take a deep breath.

Otherwise, I will overwhelm myself.

I do it every single year.

I look around Lemon Squeezy Farms and immediately begin making the mental list of everything that absolutely, positively MUST be completed…

before the snow flies.

Those four little words carry a lot of weight around here.

The problem is, completing anything “before the snow flies” in North Dakota can come back to bite you in the proverbial bottom because we never actually know when that snow is going to fly. There comes a day when Mother Nature simply flips the switch, and whatever is left on your list may remain there until spring and the thaw.

I do not like projects sitting in that particular limbo land.

But I’ve also learned through the years that it isn’t smart to plow through life simply because there are things to be done.

Marc and I became empty nesters in what feels like a flash.

Time waits for no one.

I remind myself of that because I need to hear it. Often.

I have to be intentional about noticing the moments happening around me. And sometimes, if those moments don’t present themselves, I have to go looking for them. I have to create them.

Those are the moments that fill my heart and allow me to really soak in all the goodness this life has to offer.

And recently, goodness came in the form of five tiny kittens underneath a shed.

Clementine Had Her Kittens!

We knew Clementine was getting close to having her babies, so Marc and I prepared a special place for her in the garage.

Perfect plan.

Apparently, Clementine had other ideas.

After she had spent the night in the garage, Marc told me as we were heading to work:

“I let Clementine out of the garage. She didn’t like it in there and she pooped on the floor. It was runny. I cleaned it up.”

I rolled my eyes and promptly informed him that he should NOT have let her out!

When we got home that evening, I took one look at Clementine and knew.

She was thin.

She’d had those kittens!

And that little bout of “diarrhea”?

Yeah.

She had been in labor.

Clementine eventually showed me where she had chosen to have her babies.

Conveniently…

under the shed.

Of course she did.

I could barely see them. I certainly couldn’t reach them. And I immediately began worrying about every terrible thing that could possibly happen to five tiny kittens underneath a shed.

We kept a close eye on Clementine and made sure she had plenty of food and water, but I especially worried about the tomcats from across the road. One in particular has earned the affectionate nickname Fat Head, and I did NOT want Fat Head anywhere near those babies.

Then last night, just after sunset, I went out to check on them again.

Happily, the little ball of fur babies had moved near the eastern edge of the shed. I still couldn’t reach them, but they were close.

Clementine came over, and I started petting her while she purred and purred.

I was also feeding approximately 4,000 mosquitoes and may possibly have malaria now, but sacrifices had to be made.

Then something wonderful happened.

The kittens must have heard their mama purring because one by one, three tiny kittens came toddling out from underneath that shed.

I was SO excited!

I scooped them into the crook of my left arm while continuing to pet Clementine, making sure she could see that I had her babies and that they were safe.

And then…

Two more little faces appeared.

I scooped them up, tucked all five kittens into my T-shirt, and high-tailed it toward the garage!

And suddenly, I was seven years old again.

There I was, five kittens swinging in the little hammock I had created with my shirt, wearing a grin like I didn’t have a care in the world.

And for that moment?

I didn’t.

No projects.

No mental lists.

No “before the snow flies.”

Just five tiny kittens tucked into my shirt.

I got everyone settled into the garage, and Clementine followed right behind us. She jumped into the Rubbermaid container with her babies and immediately started nursing them.

What an excellent little mother she is.

Naturally, I FaceTimed my daughter right away so we could properly ooh and aah over them together.

Then I sat there watching those five little kittens nurse, knead their tiny paws and make biscuits against their mama.

And I watched through tears.

They were exactly three weeks old the night I finally got them safely moved into the garage.

Three weeks old.

Safe.

Warm.

Well-fed, thanks to Clementine.

And now I can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

The List Can Wait a Minute

Soon enough, that fall to-do list will start calling again.

Marc and I have projects to finish. Things need to be moved, fixed, cleaned up, put away and prepared for another North Dakota winter.

And we’ll get to them.

Because eventually…

the snow will fly.

But I don’t want to become so busy preparing for the next season that I miss the season I’m standing in.

There will always be another project.

Another chore.

Another list.

But there won’t always be five tiny kittens tucked into my T-shirt.

There won’t always be a daughter on FaceTime to call and say, “LOOK AT THEM!”

There won’t always be a warm September evening when I can sit in the garage and watch five little babies make biscuits against their mama while mosquitoes feast on me like I’m the evening buffet.

Those moments have an expiration date.

So this September, I’m going to try to remember that.

I’ll work on the list.

I’ll prepare for winter.

I’ll probably drink the pumpkin spice latte.

But I’m also going to stop.

Look around.

Take a deep breath.

And when life hands me a T-shirt full of kittens?

I’m going to carry them with both hands and enjoy every single second.

The snow will fly soon enough.

For now, I’m going to enjoy September.

One day. One chore. One kitten. One precious moment at a time.

Easy Peesey.

🍋 Lemon Squeezy Farms

“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” — Psalm 118:24

Cuddle time.

FaceTime Photo courtesy of my daughter.

Milk time! They are all so content!

Comments

Leave a comment

  • Goat Life Chronicles: A Sad Goodbye

    💔 A Sad Night on Lemon Squeezy Farms

    Tonight, my heart is heavy. We lost our six-month-old Boer goat buck, and I am absolutely heartbroken. Losing an animal is, without a doubt, the hardest part of life on the farm — and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.

    We prayed over him after watching him take his last breath, grateful for the short but sweet time we had with him. People often say all dogs go to Heaven, but tonight, I believe all goats do too. 🕊️💛

    Rest easy, sweet boy. You were deeply loved.

    A family photo from back in May, Thorn with his bigger brother and their mom.

  • Goat Life Chronicles: Tales of Love and Loss

    This past weekend my husband drove to an animal sale about two hours from our farm. Unfortunately I couldn’t go along but it sure made my memories start flooding! Last year at that exact sale, we purchased (among other things) our first goats. Frank, Lady, Billy, and Fiona. I never imagined we would own and care for goats much less enjoy it. When we brought them home we didn’t even have a place to put them; we didn’t plan on bringing anything but chickens home. We had three dog kennels in the back of my Subaru Outback. Frank and Lady each had their own kennel and Billy and Fiona shared one. I remember how hard my husband and I were laughing when we stopped off to get a Blizzard at Dairy Queen. The goats were bleating while he ordered in the drive-thru. It still makes me laugh. We got home late, after dark, and didn’t have much time to put our newly made plans into action. We had cattle panels and fastened them together. We were so proud of ourselves for settling up their makeshift pen while using the car’s headlights for a light source. Our son came home after work and commented on the goats. We didn’t realized right away he meant that the goats were in the yard. A couple of them had escaped! After catching a couple goats and getting them back in the enclosure, we wrapped the cattle panels with snow fencing so the goats wouldn’t be able to escape again. From humble beginnings…..

    Baptism by fire is probably the best way I can explain our goat care education. We both did lots of research and still do. One of my favorite things is how we keep learning and improving. I’ve built a couple of our goat structures, built and fashioned various ‘play equipment’ for them, and learned how to trim their hooves. We’ve also learned how and when to vaccinate. What is the most difficult, for me, to learn is dealing with the low, sad times. We’ve learned twice how quickly a goat’s health can go downhill. Billy and Frank are buried on our land, their loss was horrible but not in vain. We learned so much from each one. Frank lives on in his boy, Jack, and girl, Jill, he had with Lady and his daughter he had with Fiona. I’ve written about those sweet bundles.

    The renewal of life is the part that makes me love all the hardest days on our little farm. Heading out to check on Lady in the bitterly cold, wee hours of the morning will always be vivid in my memories.

    One of our goats did not come from a sale. Mabel was given to us. She was born one of three kids and sadly, the momma goat died. When I was asked if I was interested in a 5 week old bottle baby I didn’t even think about it. Mabel was dropped off with us and our lamancha goat education began. More importantly we learned how to feed a kid a bottle. It was so difficult to wean Mabel! She would look right at me and bleat, “MA!” I was such a sucker. Strange fact: goat formula smells just like baby formula. In my opinion; it stinks!

    I digress…. my main point was wondering how one year could feel so long and go by so quickly. This is the same stuff I wonder about when I think of how quickly my own children grew up and left us empty nesters. Time waits for no one.

    I’m proud of my husband because when he went to this past animal sale, he went to buy one thing and that is the only thing he came home with! Just a little over a year ago we began tending goats. We now have three separate structures and enclosures to house our goats. I never would have thought I’d love them the way I do. Our goats all know I keep animal crackers in my pockets for them, it’s how I make sure I remain their favorite human. Here’s to our continued journey and my continued goat chronicles!

    Our goat herd: Lady, Jill & Jack, Fiona & Button, Mabel, Gandalf, Snow White, Angelina, Bandit, Nubby, Ward, June, Ruby Junior, Thorn, Thistle, Tulip, Chub, Moondance, and Ruby.

    Mabel (she will always be my bottle baby)

  • Cute as a …

    My husband and I planned a spring break getaway long before we knew we’d have an expecting goat! But winters here are long and cold, we needed to get away. We headed south and found warmer temps during our week of vacation. Fiona was close to kidding but we were not sure when the excitement would come. We were on our way home, about one hour away from the farm, when my daughter Face Timed me. She was holding our newest addition. By the time we got home, Fiona and her baby girl were in our ‘recovery unit’ in the garage. Fiona had birthed without anyone knowing and everything went great. I worry needlessly over events like this, I need to work on that. As I write this, I realize it has been two months since that baby was born! Fiona and Lady are both amazing moms. It has been fun watching one mother two and one mother her one and only. I’m glad that Fiona had a single birth, she is such a small girl herself. It will be interesting to see in the future if she continues with single births. Our weather has warmed, we really had a beautiful spring. Fiona and her kid did not stay in the garage as long. Due to the bitter cold, I kept Lady, Jack, and Jill in the garage longer. Fiona’s little girl is quite the jumping bean and boy does she love to play! She is tiny. She is precious. She is cute as a button and that is how she got her name; Button.

    Just hours old, Button is ready for her close-up.

    Button at two months old.

  • Awaiting another Magical Goat Birth on Lemon Squeezy Farms

    Awaiting another Magical Goat Birth on Lemon Squeezy Farms

    This is Jack. Isn’t he precious? His mom, Lady, gave birth to him and his sister (Jill) on an extremely cold night on February 18th. Thanks to them arriving like they did I took a sick day from work….. thanks goats! I will never forget that magical night. On that night, two little lives were added to our farm in Northeastern North Dakota. Lady and her kids are Nigerian dwarf goats. Except for the chickens we’ve hatched, Jack and Jill are the first animals born on Lemon Squeezy Farms.

    Right now we are preparing again for an upcoming birth. This is just as exciting as the first! I don’t feel like an expert and probably never will. I read as much as I can to help with preparations. As a three-time human mom myself, I know that each pregnancy and birth are different.

    Our expecting mama is Fiona. She is a fainting pygmy goat. She is sweet but compared to the other goats, not overly friendly. Our low tonight is supposed to be 12 degrees and the high tomorrow 45. The night feels chilly but nothing compared to the negative temps we had when Jack and Jill were born. Marc built a really nice enclosure in our garage, I call it the recovery pen. It’s a great place for the mama and babies to recover and regain their strength. It’s been cleaned out and staged for our next big event. The next magical event, when will it be? I will only say, “soon.”

  • Lemon Squeezy Farms: A Courageous New Venture