recycle your xmas tree!
turning from despair to delight this winter solstice
The chaos of kidding emerges abruptly. One day the herd is slow and ambling; the next it has quadrupled in size and energy and delight in an addictive tizzy of nerves and anticipation. There is screaming, bleating, limbs everywhere. Tiny, uncontainable kids weaving in and out of fences. Life oozes, suckles, hops.
Spring chaos spirals into summer: the complicated rhythms of milking, herding, and moving fences eventually become routine. Then light fades and growth slows; kids move on to their forever homes. We slip into fall, degree by degree, roll up our fences and milk the final udder of the season. Winter enters with soft warnings, dusting us randomly with frost, then snow, then ice. Each day contains fewer details to hold onto, fewer steps to take and loads to lug and notes to take, deliveries to make.
My morning alarm sounds later and later until the reality of the off-season slowly dawns on me. For a few days I allow myself exuberance, joyful spaciousness. I stretch my limbs, sip my coffee slowly, read a book or knit a hat… BEFORE THE INSIDIOUS GUILT AND SHAME AND FEAR strikes, and I begin accounting for and analyzing the season past and planning the next.
This off-season is different. There was no usual taper into winter. My body went directly from total control and caretaking overdrive to complete lack of control and being taken care of. I felt as though I’d fallen off a cliff, mentally, emotionally and physically. Yes, I’d had a baby, sure. But more poignantly I had suddenly landed a world away from the burnout I had become so accustomed to (and that had stealthily increased) over the last eight years.
Okay, so there were hormones involved. I was overcome with deep drive to care for my child and my home. But most noticeably, I was drawn to care for myself in ways I haven’t in a long time. Though I am surrounded by deep and plentiful delight, its voice had become muffled under layers of stress and overwhelm.
Delight, of course, is about witnessing what’s already here. About slowing down enough to feel the goodness in your sock feet. And turns out, you really do need to take off your muck boots once in a while to feel it.
Though there have been many, here’s a list of just a few of the things that have my mind buzzing and my heart open this holiday:
LEAH’S LATEST LIST OF DELIGHTS:
Our friend and farm neighbor made us a meal train. A way to fill a functional need has turned into a series of mini no-frill dinner parties in our poorly lit living room. We’ve caught up with old friends and new ones, and we’ve cackled and oohed and ah-ed at the serious business of existence. I’m convinced everyone should have a meal train at all times or at the very least at some point. We should all be feeding each other, being fed, and cackling through the darkness.
I’ve been listening to more music than I have in a long time. One of the bands we’ve been dancing to with baby Fen is a grammy-award-winning bluegrass-for-kids duo The Okee Dokee Brothers. Their songs cover topics from scat to herbalism to emotional regulation and they’re all rooted in a reverence for nature. Here’s my favorite verse from their song “Hope Machine”:
Talk quiet and listen loud
Teach humble and learn proud
Scuffle with the struggle, and wrestle with the pain
Open homes, open blinds
Open hearts, open minds
Let in the sunshine, let in the rainI’m finding a lot of spaciousness and inspiration taking time away from social media and am excited to continue building a life and business and existence outside of the apps—particularly those which have a deep hold on my fragile psyche—you know who you are. On the podcast We Can Do Hard Things, this episode about our addiction to social media really rang true and brilliantly articulated a lot of my feelings and experiences about our attention-hogging devices.
For the past two years I’ve had the playful pleasure of taking part in James Champion’s musical project, Ditch Lily. This was one of the first concrete steps I took to reclaim a life outside of goats, and I’ve loved screaming and writing and singing and fiddling with this crew. Today, the first of two new albums has been released into the world [“my favorite miniature drum”—of which you can now listen to/buy/preoder CDs/cassettes]! We also have a release show in Grand Rapids at The Stray on January 10. Hearing the songs shaped into recordings is kind of a cool cherry-on-top-of-the-real-sundae, which for me has been a place to be playful and reignite my love for words and song.
Going back to the goats after my weeks away, my delight in the both the world I’ve created and the goats themselves has thankfully been renewed. After thousands of goat hikes, it’s still really amazing to watch what they find to forage even in the “dead” of winter. Lately they’re going crazy for sweet apple twigs and prickly brambles (I like to think of them as the goat equivalent to berry twizzlers).
They also REALLY want to snack on the Snippe family’s evergreen trees, so please do us a favor and bring your xmas trees to satiate their hunger for fresh, fragrant forage! We’ve created an event around your need to recycle your evergreen and the goats insatiable hunger for fresh forage this time of year, and I’d be honored to have you there:
YOU’RE INVITED: Celebrate Goat Christmas with us! Our sixth annual Holiday Hikes & Hugs will be held between December 30 & January 5, 11a-5pm each day. We will be set up to collect your Christmas trees, sip cocoa by the fire, and cuddle & hike with goats wearing jingle bells! Purchase a ticket to reserve your spot, and if you can’t attend, consider forwarding this email to a friend who might enjoy it!
As usual, our events are designed with goats in mind! We’ll be cuddling up during the colder morning hours and offering a couple of afternoon goat hikes as the day warms. All Christmas tree varieties welcomed! But please inspect buds and branches carefully for green colorant, as we will not be accepting any trees that have been sprayed with paint.
been loving these letters, Leah 🤎 missing you and those goaties xoxo