The Weight We Carry

Photo by Molly McMillan

By Lesley Kelly, Farmer and Co-Founder of The Do More Agriculture Foundation

Summer on the farm often means “all hands on deck.” Everyone is busy, everyone is tired, and everyone is trying to keep all the balls in the air at the same time. 

At times, there are days where the only time I see my husband is when I bring a coffee out to the field.

Romantic, right?

And if you’ve ever had a conversation through a tractor window while someone is trying to finish a field before rain, you know exactly what I mean. Sometimes our deepest communication is:
“Need anything?”
“Yup. More coffee.”

I’m heavily involved in my kids’ two baseball teams, and spring hockey is in the mix too. Between practices, games, tournaments, and road trips, there are days where I honestly feel like I live out of my vehicle. My boys love sports, and I love being part of it with them, yet trying to balance all of that during one of the busiest seasons on the farm can feel like a constant juggling act.

At the same time, the farm doesn’t stop. I also run a business, sit on a few agriculture and community boards, and try to stay involved in the things that matter to me outside the farm gate. The emails keep coming whether you’re sitting at the ball diamond, waiting in an arena parking lot, or riding in the sprayer. There have been plenty of suppers grabbed through a drive-thru between commitments, arriving late to practices because time slipped away from me, and missing games because I needed to be somewhere else that day.

And I know so many farm families can relate to that feeling of being pulled in multiple directions at once, wanting to show up fully for your kids, your farm, your work, your community, and somehow yourself too.

The reality is that busy seasons in agriculture can feel surprisingly isolating sometimes. Not necessarily because you’re alone, but because everyone is moving in different directions trying to get through the day. Farming has a way of consuming every hour available if you let it.

And then just when seeding wraps up, the spraying season begins and you realize there isn’t really a “slow week” coming anytime soon.

Over the years, I’ve learned that busy seasons don’t necessarily become easier, yet we do learn how to navigate them a little better.

One of the biggest things that has helped me is leaning on the people around me. I have incredible friends who understand farm life and understand that sometimes I physically cannot be in two places at once. There have been many times where my kids hopped into another family’s vehicle to make it to baseball because I couldn’t get there in time.

That kind of support matters more than people realize.

In agriculture, we often pride ourselves on independence, however, busy seasons remind me over and over again how important community really is. Sometimes the strongest thing we can do is simply let someone help us.

I’ve also learned to set expectations earlier. Before seeding starts in the spring, I try to communicate clearly with organizations, boards, and volunteer groups I’m involved with. I let people know my availability changes during this season. Meetings may need to be virtual. Emails may take longer to answer. Some things may simply need to wait until rain days.

And thankfully, people are incredibly understanding.

Another thing that has helped tremendously is simplifying wherever I can. A couple years ago, I started making individual freezer meals before seeding so our crew could quickly grab supper without me spending three or four hours every evening cooking, driving meals to the field, and cleaning up afterward. 

It doesn’t sound life-changing, yet small systems can make a huge difference during busy seasons.

I’ve also lowered my expectations in some areas of life.

Some years I plant a smaller garden. Some years there isn’t a garden at all. Sometimes the house collects a little more dust and there’s dirty dishes in the sink when I go to bed. Sometimes I hire a cleaner. And sometimes frozen pizza counts as supper after baseball.

That doesn’t mean we’re failing. It means we’re prioritizing what matters most during certain seasons.

I’ve also become protective of sleep. Farm life can glorify exhaustion, however I’ve learned that everyone functions better with rest. The days are long, and getting to bed earlier can make a difference, not just physically, but mentally too.

What I’ve come to realize is that busy seasons in agriculture aren’t just about the physical workload. It’s the mental load too. The constant thinking, planning, organizing, worrying and decision-making happening in the background while everything else keeps moving. That’s why checking in with each other matters.

Sometimes the strongest thing we can do is share when we’re overwhelmed, ask for help, or tell a friend, “This season feels like a lot.”

Because chances are, they feel it too.

Yet despite the long days, dusty vehicles, missed suppers, late nights, and schedules that barely make sense, there’s also something beautiful about how farm families show up for each other during these seasons.

We adapt. We become incredibly resourceful. We learn how to pivot quickly when weather changes, equipment breaks down, or someone suddenly needs a ride to baseball in the middle of a field move. Farm families become masters of flexibility. We learn how to eat supper at odd hours, hold conversations in passing and celebrate small wins wherever we can find them.

There’s also a closeness that comes from working toward something together.

Our kids see hard work firsthand. They see teamwork. They learn responsibility, patience, and resilience in real time. They also learn that community matters because in agriculture, no one truly does this alone.

One of my favourite parts of busy seasons is seeing how people quietly step in for each other without even being asked. A friend picks your child up for practice. Someone drops off a dozen buns. A neighbour checks in. Another farmer sends a quick text asking how seeding is going.

Those little things carry people more than we realize.

And honestly, sometimes the moments we remember most aren’t the perfectly organized ones anyway. They’re the chaotic ones. The baseball uniform covered in shale because they didn’t make it to the washer in time. The cold coffee forgotten in the cupholder. The quick roadside suppers. The kids asleep in the backseat driving home after another long day.

It may not always feel balanced, but it feels real.

Over time, I’ve realized busy seasons don’t require perfection. They require grace, for ourselves and for each other.

Grace when we’re late.
Grace when the house is messy.
Grace when we miss something.
Grace when we’re tired.

Grace when things don’t go the way we wanted them to.
Grace when we simply can’t do it all.

Because the truth is, most farm families are doing far better than we give ourselves credit for.

Even in the busiest seasons, we still find ways to show up for our farms, our families, and our communities. We still cheer from the bleachers when we can. We still make the meals, answer the calls, help our neighbours, support our kids, and somehow keep moving forward.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy. But it does mean we’re resilient. 

Not the kind of resilience that says we never struggle, rather, the kind that reminds us we can lean on each other when we do.

Busy seasons carry weight, yet they also carry purpose, connection, laughter, and memories that become part of our family stories for years to come.

And maybe that’s the reminder we need sometimes in the middle of all the chaos: We don’t have to hold everything perfectly to still be doing a really good job.