Anne and I found ourselves smack dab in rush hour traffic on the QEW. Five hours into a road trip we hadn’t planned when we woke up that morning. One shipping mix-up sorted out in Scarborough, and we were headed straight for Niagara-on-the-Lake to deal with the next one.
At some point I looked over at Anne and said, “You know… it’s days like this that actually make me feel a little better. A little more confident we’re going to make it.”
She gave me the look — you know the one. Half smile, half “Rod, you’ve lost it.”
But I meant it. Because here’s the thing: once a year or so, we find ourselves in one of these situations where the only clear solution requires us to toss all the plans for the day, grab the keys, and go. That’s when I holler across the house, “Anne! Get your boots - we’re heading to Toronto today!”
Now, I know it sounds ridiculous. And sure, maybe there’s a smarter way. Crunch the numbers, weigh the options, see if it’s worth the trouble. But me? I see a path, and I take it. Always have. Back in my old career, before sheep and shipping labels, same thing.
Why do I do it? Beats me. I’m sure some psychologist could write a whole paper on it. Probably title it something like Farmer Logic: How to Drive Five Hours for a One-Hour Fix. But I know this much — when the day’s done, I feel good about having done what I could. And what’s wrong with that?
Anne didn’t say much — just that quiet smile that says she knows I’ll never change. Then we both laughed when the GPS rerouted us off the QEW, down some side street with a Tim’s drive-thru. I figured if the universe was going to hand us a detour, at least it came with coffee.
And right there, sipping that hot coffee, the thought finally came out of my mouth:
“If it was easy, everyone would be doing it.”
Corny, I know. But sometimes a corny thought’s the truest one.
So yeah, the traffic was awful. The day was long. But that silly little road trip reminded me we’re stronger than we think.Farmer Rod
