Christmas in March

Last night I had a hard time sleeping.  My first-freshening LaMancha Starr, was restless last night as evidenced by the pawing that I heard on my bedside barn monitor.  I got up at 2:22 am and peeked out my window into the barn. I had left a low-level light on in the barn so I could actually see inside a bit from my bedroom window.  All the does were up which is unusal for them at night and I attributed this to the fact that Starr, the herd queen, was restless and on the verge of kidding.  As the old saying goes, "if the herd queen ain't happy then nobody's happy".  Since I was awake, I pulled my muck boots on over my pj's, and went the barn conveniently located 20 feet from my back door.  A couple of goats were munching hay and Starr was generally moving around keeping all the does awake.  A quick check determined that she was not ready to deliver anytime soon so I went back to bed.  As I laid there trying to will myself a few more hours of sleep, it crossed my mind that this was just like Christmas when I was a kid.  I'd go to bed with butterflies in my tummy from excitement and anticipation of what I might find under the tree in the morning.  Now 50 years later it is the same feeling as the goats are nearing their delivery date with the same butterflies and the same getting up in the middle of the night.  The only difference is that  now I always make sure I'm there before Santa arrives so I can witness the miracle of new life being born in my barn.  What a privilege and thrill to have Christmas in March.