New Season...

New Season...

This afternoon I opened the back gate to the bed of my Dodge Ram - and slid-in nearly 10 years of memories.

It’s an interesting notion how sometimes it’s not a “who” - but a “what” that causes our thoughts to go careening down Memory Lane. A song, a fragrance, a bend in the road...or a seven foot wooden plank from an old ash tree.

The past several weeks has created an opening for those of us at 1 South High to spend some extra time ‘Cornersmith-in’. Rethinking, reworking, and resetting in an effort to manifest, “Hey, I have a thought” into reality.

We have been working to funnel what we have experienced over the past twelve months into a big vision for 2021. Steps at a time, we hope to continue to unveil what we have learned, dreamed and planned.

But, for now, back to the wooden plank...

In an effort to provide our customers and guests more mobility in our front room, we decided now was a good time to shorten the length and increase the width of our front counter.

Nearly 10 years ago, with few funds and even less experience, Kendra and I (somewhat haphazardly) tried to re-configure a day-spa into a mercantile. Family and friends helped along the way - bringing their expertise to the project. A few weeks before we opened my husband Ken showed-up with a seven-foot long piece of wood resurrected from our barn and flipped it on top of a half-wall that at one time held a piece of formica.

As he was attaching it to its new home, he said, “This old piece of wood is going to be good luck.”...

And then, a few days ago, my son Koel came and unseated that board from its nesting place - to replace it with another piece of wood from our barn archives.

And when he set the old board on the floor, Bruna said, “That is a million dollar board.”

Then the memories started flowing...not only had we completed nearly every transaction over that board - but across it began many new friendships, many stories of hopes and sadnesses - moments of confusion, wonder, happiness and surprises.

Mid-board, where most of the goods came from one side of the counter to the other, showed signs of wear. Like treads on a tire; worn from covering many miles.

I looked at the plank as it lay on the floor and sensed I could see in its grain thousands of faces, hear hundreds of voices and feel nearly 10 years of gratitude.

When I picked it up to carry it out to my truck, Bruna said, “It is sad to see it go.” “I agree.”

But now, there is a new plank, for old friends and new...to share and continue our story.

And...the old piece of ash is nestled behind this desk from which I am writing... and in some ways you are all here too.

Come and see us soon...as we begin to season our new plank.