Born into a farming family, I heard “You can’t make a living farming anymore...” all too often. Somehow people do so in Europe, but in Saskatchewan – the bread basket of the world? There was this constant complaint, a strange song of scarcity that is far removed from what I believe to be the case today.

Perhaps making a living off the farm and ‘living from the farm’ are different today. I’ve made a ‘living’ many different ways in my 40 some years, among them: waitress, homecare worker, heavy equipment operator, newspaper reporter, and teacher of students from pre-kindergarten to high school. Now as a mother of three (ages 2-15), and married to a man who chose farming, rather than being born into it, my concept of what can be done on the farm is expanding, rather than shrinking.

Focusing thought seems to be key to overcoming the scarcity sink holes. It’s more than seeing the glass half-full, rather than empty. For example: focusing on the potholes and decay on some of our highways (28 and 18 just to name two) isn’t going to get us better highways. Focusing on the damp cold conditions when we need heat and sunshine, perhaps a little wind, isn’t going to bring us better harvest conditions. And focusing on any perceived lack in our lives won’t make us prosperous. Trying the opposite is advisable in these cases. That means focusing on improvements and in some cases, day dreaming of how wonderful it would be to if... is a much better plan. No, I’m serious. Really.

What keeps us going on the farm, whatever the weather, has to be the fact that we want to be here, we aren’t stuck. Both of us could be doing other things and the money would not be ‘tied up’ in infrastructure and expenses. We’d go on trips perhaps, to exotic places midwinter instead of cutting twine and rolling bales at -30C. But this is the life we chose, and for the present, there are ways to enjoy our reality.

The flip side of scarcity is abundance. Increasingly I’m learning how to manage many different types of production at once so that, like in the ‘old days’ we’re learning to live from the farm. This is the beauty of a ‘mixed’ farm. To be able to go to the grocery store for supplies, rather than most of our food, is gratifying. To harvest from a productive garden brings a sense of riches and abundance. Stacking cardboard boxes with tomatoes to the ceiling because we’re temporarily overwhelmed with the harvest is the kind of ‘problem’ I’ll take anytime over another conversation about the weather or the roads.

Keeping a farm diary seems to help some farmers maintain perspective on what needs doing so that sense of falling behind doesn’t become overwhelming. According to our records, we didn’t start combining last year until September 19th. This year we’ve got one field done already and now we wait for the dry conditions that will eventually come. Last year, we didn’t finish combining flax until November, but it all got done. It always does, rushing, worrying and writhing in anxiety doesn’t help. In the mean time, there’s always something to fix, other jobs that need attention. These jobs are all opportunities to focus on what can be done, rather than what might not, what isn’t right, what... only causes panic and anxiety. This week’s lesson for me: If we’re going to continue to live from the farm, our thinking must cooperate.