Does everyone fill their time with something? I’ve often thought about money that way—how people have vastly different financial situations, yet I’ve never seen a direct link between wealth and happiness. This week, as I scrolled past all the sunny vacation photos on Facebook, I found myself thinking about time in the same way.
Not time in terms of earning money, but time as its own currency. We all spend the money we make—some save more, some spend more, but at the end of the day, we use what we have. Is time the same way? The more we have, the more we fill? And if that’s true, how often do we purposefully reflect on how we’re spending it?
I know I don’t do it enough.
Like the other day, during lambing. I was four days in, completely exhausted, running on whatever amount of sleep you get between middle-of-the-night barn checks. I was moping my way through chores, barely lifting my boots out of the straw, wondering how I was ever going to drag myself through another week of this. I must’ve looked pathetic because even the sheep were staring at me like, yikes, buddy, pull it together.
And then I heard Rita bark, and I looked up to see Anne coming up the laneway, already in her barn clothes. Just home from work, supper already in the crock pot, and now, instead of putting her feet up, she was here, ready to pitch in. And I just stood there thinking, How could I ever do this without her? I think, in fact, I couldn’t.
Over time, we’ve taken turns being the one with more time to put into the farm. There were years when I was working long hours off-farm, and Anne was the one managing the chores, the fields, the kids—keeping everything running while I was away. Now the roles have shifted, but one thing hasn’t changed—the farm always seems to evolve to fill whatever time we have.
And somehow, Anne keeps filling hers with things that keep everything moving forward. She drives the school bus, runs the house, makes meals, creates gifts for customers, packs and ships the meat, and still shows up at the barn when I need an extra set of hands. Not because she has to—but because that’s just who she is.
So, as I sit here thinking about all those sunny vacation photos I saw this week, I realize something. For me, what really matters isn’t where I spend my time—it’s who I spend it with. Whether it’s in the barn or on a beach, my happy place is anywhere with Anne.
Farmer Rod
Hey, We have beach pictures too, Just not recent ones!
