Most hometeaders, unfortunately, have "town jobs," which means they never have enough time to do everything they want to do. They have the same constrictions and demands on their time as everyone else, in addition to their homestead chores and projects. How do they get it all done?

Time management.

While this might sound like some business school concept that has no place on the homestead, it can be put to good use.

Consider that everyone has the same 24 hours of every day at their disposal. How much they accomplish in that time depends less on how much they work than on how smart they work. There might be certain times, for short periods, when you want to get a lot done by working hard: perhaps getting hay in the barn before it rains, or tomatoes canned before it freezes. But on a day-to-day basis, it's far better to increase your efficiency. (And no, you don't need fancy or expensive time-saving machines; in some cases, these can be counter-productive!)

The best way to do this is to think about it, and observe how you spend your precious minutes every day. Here are some examples as idea-starters, from two homesteaders: Happy, and Grumpy.

Both got out of bed, got dressed, picked up the milk bucket and headed to the barn. And like most homesteaders, both paused to greet the animals. Remember, homestead efficiency is NOT about rushing, or about working too hard to smell the roses: it's about doing the same job with less time and effort.

For example, when Happy let the first milk goat out of the pen she quickly hopped onto the neat milking stand, slipped her head through the keyhole stanchion, and eagerly munched the grain waiting for her in the bowl in the feed holder. The grain, of course, was stored in a metal garbage can with a cover secured with a bungee cord, within easy reach of the milk stand. In what was practically one fluid motion, Happy scooped grain out of the can into the feed pan, flipped open the latch to the gate to let the goat out, washed and dried the goat's udder, used the strip cup, took the milk pail off the hanging scale and sat down, ready to milk.

Meanwhile, Grumpy was struggling to untie the knot in the piece of baling twine holding the gate shut. Oh, he had always meant to install a good latch like Happy had, but who had time for such improvements?

The gate didn't open, because it swung into the pen, where it was blocked by hay and bedding the goats had trampled in front of it. Grumpy had to climb over the gate to kick the blockage out of the way.

By then the boss goat had squeezed out ahead of him, and instead of jumping onto the milking stand, she ran to the bag of grain on the other side of the aisle. Grumpy quickly fumbled with the twine again to prevent the other goats from getting out, then ran to drag the first one to the stand. With no grain in the pan, she was reluctant to remain, or even to put her head through the keyhole, so she had to be restrained while the hapless Grumpy took the feed pan over to the grain sack, filled it, then brought it back.

And so it went until milking was completed. Happy was finished much more quickly than Grumpy was, however. In addition, Happy was happier, and Grumpy was grumpier. . . and the goats matched their owners!

There were many other differences between the two homesteads. Happy, for instance, had some very nice dairy goats: healthy and productive. Grumpy, unfortunately, didn't have time to plan a breeding program or cull. One of his does had a blind teat, another seemed to be getting mastitis, and another was looking kind of haggard. . . maybe it had worms or something. Grumpy didn't have time to check. The result was that Grumpy milked more goats than Happy did, spent more time on the chore, and still got less milk!

As the day progressed, the same pattern continued. Happy gathered fresh, clean eggs from the rollout nests in the henhouse; Grumpy had to search for eggs in odd nooks and crannies his hens preferred. . . and the eggs were soiled with manure, which required extra time for washing. While Happy strolled through the garden, plucking the occasional weed from the mulched wide-row raised beds, Grumpy struggled with the rototiller to clear the spaces between rows, then worked up a sweat with the hoe to get the weeds between the plants in the rows, and finally, on hands and knees, removed weeds growing too close to the plants for either the tiller or the hoe to reach. And because of the lack of mulch, Grumpy's vegetables were much drier than Happy's. He could either spend time watering them, or get a reduced yield.

By the way, Grumpy didn't plant in raised beds, or even in wide rows, because that was too much work. That would have required building the beds, hand weeding while the plants were still small, then mulching them, and who has time for all that? However, after he tilled much more ground than Happy did to accommodate the same number of plants - because the space between each row was wide enough to get the tiller through - and then did the weeding and watering, Grumpy actually spent much more time in the garden than Happy did.

When they both started to cut firewood, Grumpy discovered he was out of gas. Chagrined, he decided to let that chore slide for the time being. Instead, he decided to put a new gate on the goat pen. This time it would open out, and it would have a latch. . . and while he was at it he'd make it wide enough to get the wheelbarrow into the pen to make cleaning easier.

But after searching high and low for his tools (literally: he had left the hammer on the roof of the hog shed when he replaced some shingles last week), he discovered that he didn't have a latch. He'd have to go to town after all.

He left without telling his wife. When he returned, an hour and a half later, he learned that she had been planning on going to town for coffee and baking powder. She made a second trip.

The whole day went like this. . . and the week, and the year. Grumpy had to look for tools, didn't have the right tool for the job, or the tool needed sharpening or repair. Happy's tools were all in their proper places and well-maintained, ready to go to work. Grumpy didn't have parts or materials for projects he wanted to work on and had to make numerous trips to town. Happy planned in advance, and stocked spark plugs, belts and such, and so spent much less time (and gas money) in useless driving. Grumpy didn't have time to do things right the first time - and so spent twice as much time doing them over again.

By the end of the day, Happy had accomplished much more, with less effort, and was. . . well, happy.

Grumpy, on the other hand, was worn out, frustrated at having accomplished so little, and grumpy.

By the end of the year, one homesteader had made a great deal of progress toward the ideal homestead, and indeed, was living that ideal even as the homestead was being built and developed. The other made very little progress, and in some ways seemed to slip backwards. Homesteading was too much work, and took too much time; city living was starting to look more and more attractive.

Both types of homesteaders actually exist, and sometimes with even greater differences than we've seen here. Over time, the differences can become greater still. One place becomes ever more attractive, efficient, and productive, while the other degenerates into a time- and money-sinkhole and an ugly rural slum.

Yes, both homesteaders "work hard." But one also works smart! The smart one gets smarter, while the other learns very little from his mistakes. One prospers, while the other struggles. One is happy, the other is grumpy. Look around your place. Which one are you? And if you don't like what you see, what are you going to do about it?

Be happy!