A Menu, A Few More Signs, and a Whole Lot of Gratitude

Well, we finally have a menu.

We've added a few more signs too—though if you've been following along, you know our relationship with signs has been complicated from the start.

We've also adjusted our hours slightly, although much like many things in the summertime, we may end up being more weather-contingent than clock-contingent. Around here, sunshine, gardens, and unexpected conversations occasionally influence the schedule.

This past weekend was full.

One of the greatest joys was meeting so many people from Monroe that we hadn't yet met. It's funny how you can live somewhere and still discover neighbors you've never crossed paths with before.

We're learning a lot too.

For example, cold brew is popular.

Very popular.

After finally trying it myself this year, I understand why. Smooth, slightly sweet, and incredibly refreshing on a hot day, it has quickly become a favorite.

We also confirmed something else:

Americans do not appear to have the same relationship with tea as the British, Scots, or Irish.

Not a single order for plain tea.

Hot or iced.

I suspect somewhere in Scotland, someone is quietly shaking their head.

The store continues to evolve as well. New handmade items keep finding their way onto the shelves, including lovingly dried flowers and greens—a winter project that began as a way of enjoying the flowers a little longer before returning them as a gift to Mother Earth.

There's also a wood-stove-dried gourd I painted and filled with seeds and rice, finished with twine, leaves, and an amethyst crystal. One of a kind, much like many of the things you'll find here.

As I look around the store, I feel a deep sense of gratitude and accomplishment. Some items were made by my own hands. Others were painted, blended, sourced, or carefully selected. Every item has a story.

More importantly, every item comes from someone.

An artisan.

A craftsperson.

A farmer.

A coffee grower.

Someone who creates with intention and love, while also supporting themselves, their family, and their community.

In many ways, that's what we're trying to support here—not just products, but people.

My own love of making things certainly didn't begin with me. I grew up watching my great-grandmother, grandmother, and both of my parents create, repair, build, sew, cook, and figure things out. Making things wasn't a hobby; it was simply part of life.

Now I see that same spirit carried forward in my own children.

Perhaps that's why handmade things matter so much to me. They carry stories, skills, and traditions from one generation to the next.

If you're just finding us, welcome.

Come by.

Stay a bit.

See what finds you.