Tonight I snuck down to the shop.
It had been a pretty full evening. First there was supper, then some cleanup in the kitchen. Then my two oldest kids and I went out back with the hose and layed down some water on our ice rink. (now is the time to get out lots of water, with those frigid temps!) Then we all sat together and watched a bit of TV. Then it was bath + shower time for the kids and getting them ready for bed. Then I went back outside with the hose for another 20 minutes to spray down the rink again. I came inside and hear my beloved wife reading a bedtime story. So I snuck down to the shop. I just had a bit of gluing to do. I was in there for less than five minutes measuring the spot, laying on some glue, and then clamping it up to set. Then it was back upstairs and to the bedrooms in time for the last paragraph of the story. Then it was prayers and tuck the kids in.
My shop time is like that sometimes, especially with 4 young kids aged 5-11. Five minutes here, 20 minutes there, maybe an hour one night a week if it's a project on the go (as opposed to just puttering). And usually I can negotiate some uninterrupted time on the weekend.
Five minutes here, twenty minutes there, and some uninterrupted hours at other times. And a few months later the project emerges from the shop.
Then someone asks me: how long did that take you?
Or even worse, when some woodworker asks me: how many hours?
I have no idea. None.
And frankly, I don't really care.
ps: Hmm, maybe if I installed a time clock and punched in every time I walked into the shop... Naaaah. I still like my hobby fine the way it is.