There's one advantage to being old and lame in one leg... sometimes you circle around and come back to where you left off! This is where I left you hanging:
"We went back and signed the lease and thus began our saga... "
First I should tell you - our business began with a dream and was financed "out of pocket". I had turned this whole project over and over, trying to think of all the possibilities, made lists of endless details, talked about it until people would see us coming and run, planned until I fell asleep at random hours of the night and then woke up dreaming about it. At breakfast some mornings after "working all night in my sleep" I would decipher notes I had scrawled during the night, in the dark. In spite of the nearly two year incubation in my now famous brain, there were several contingencies not covered by our plan.
Needless to say, we had no way of totally understanding what we were undertaking until we tried to do it.
As I look back now, standing there in that empty little store the first day, I know we were excited but at least for a few seconds I felt like someone who woke up from a dream about chasing a bobcat to find they had caught it! I stood there with that "bobcat in hand" and wondered, "What do I do now?"
We were going to do moose tours. We needed a base to operate from. A small office. (I had always intended the gift shop would be online.) I wanted to put up photos of moose, lots of moose. I wanted to put up maps and posters and have an area where we could talk with people about the tours they wanted. (The one thing I've left out is the fact that we had always planned to do other tours as well.) A rubbermaid computer desk contributed by a friend found it's way to the shop and my husband (God Bless him!) began what so far seems to be his lot in life. He moved my computer, the file cabinet, and a couple chairs from our home to the store. A hand lettered 8 1/2 x 11" sign in the window told people we would be open soon. But let me sidestep for a minute...
Our home was a 72' trailer in a nearby park and in a moment of cerebral clarity we decided to sell the trailer to facilitate the purchase of our first tour van. My husband moved the couch, more chairs, bookcases, a large table, a microwave, books, puzzles, games, tv, stand & VCR plus a couple boxes of tapes into the back of the store. We kept approximately a third of the space up front for the "office" as we still thought of it, and the rest of our space became our hospitality area where anyone could come in and sit, read, watch tv, etc. This was all very open, brightly lit, and I thought - quite pleasant. It was our plan that this would be a place for the "Downtown Gang" to hang out, but thinking - "even so"- they didn't need to be singled out, so we decided any and all should come, to tell stories, to have a cup of coffee, or to simply get in out of the rain.
The rest of our "stuff" Lee moved into a 12 x 12 foot storage unit in a neighboring town. All of his electronic things, radios, scanners, turntable, CDplayer were lovingly placed on a loft like ledge where they would be safe, high and dry. All my favorite collectibles and Christmas decorations went on the loft on the other side. Trip by trip he filled this unit: our appliances, bureaus, hundreds of cookbooks, hundreds of other books, and probably hundreds of tapes. You must also understand we were just married eight years ago, and both of us being in our sixties and both pack rats, between us we had a lot of junk!! When nothing else would fit, he built a small storage shed on my mother's property, which he quickly filled. As our "Grand Opening!" zoomed at us we moved to my mother's house, temporarily (who had time to hunt for an apartment now?) and, yes, he moved the rest of our belongings onto her porch. (Want to guess where it is now?)
When all the dust settled, we were open for business. We thought we should put a few gift items in the office, a display to draw attention to our website and online giftshop. Luckily for us we realized what we were attempting to do represented at least two businesses on some level, so I painfully decided we would wait to start the tours another year and concentrate on the shop for the time being.
The door was never locked while we worked, no paper over the window for us. The window took up all of the space along the front of our store that wasn't the door. (Did I say that?) As I told you in my first missive the store was 10' wide and 37' long. It was like being in a long narrow fishbowl, or a wind tunnel without the wind. At first people would wave to us, or motion "can we come in?" And in they came. People came in to wish us well, to find out what we were up to, to share advice, and some to offer help. One man visited regularly to tell us it couldn't be done! (He's lived here all his life and there's plenty of moose on his land, he sees the tracks, but he's only ever seen a handful of moose.) How did I think I was going to be able to go out and find moose for people every time? I admitted it might not happen everytime, but my answer to him was "first you have to look."
We were interviewed by a reporter from the weekly newspaper that operates next door and within days we were bottom of the front page news, picture and all. (The two of us standing behind our newly acquired small glass counter looking at our newly acquired second hand cash register!)
Someone asked us one day about the "downtown kids". We hadn't met them yet, but we learned it was just a handful of youngsters ranging in ages from (I think) ten to fourteen or fifteen. When I told this person about our plan for the extra space, they asked how we intended to put the word out to the kids. I know I laughed when I said, "they'll find us," and the next day they did.
I was sitting at the desk, lettering yet another poster for the window when I looked up and saw a young girl standing on the other side of the closed door. I nodded, smiled at her and continued working. A minute or two later I glanced up to see she was still there, watching me intently. I pointed at the door indicating she could come in, and when she stepped into the open doorway I suggested it was warm enough, leave the door open. She visited many times over the next few days, flitting in and out like a timid little bird, never staying long. After a few days she seemed more comfortable, more confident and she returned daily for visits that I have to admit I enjoyed very much. What we talked about I don't even remember now, but we talked while I worked and she helped me decorate the window and move things about. Then one day she came in, another child in tow, saying, "I want you to meet someone"...
That was the same week a tornado (YES, a tornado) picked up our 12' x 12' storage unit in Woodstock, lost it's grip, dropping the building three feet closer to the edge of a ravine, ripping half the roof off in the process. This was just one of the contingencies not covered by our plan!
"We went back and signed the lease and thus began our saga... "
First I should tell you - our business began with a dream and was financed "out of pocket". I had turned this whole project over and over, trying to think of all the possibilities, made lists of endless details, talked about it until people would see us coming and run, planned until I fell asleep at random hours of the night and then woke up dreaming about it. At breakfast some mornings after "working all night in my sleep" I would decipher notes I had scrawled during the night, in the dark. In spite of the nearly two year incubation in my now famous brain, there were several contingencies not covered by our plan.
Needless to say, we had no way of totally understanding what we were undertaking until we tried to do it.
As I look back now, standing there in that empty little store the first day, I know we were excited but at least for a few seconds I felt like someone who woke up from a dream about chasing a bobcat to find they had caught it! I stood there with that "bobcat in hand" and wondered, "What do I do now?"
We were going to do moose tours. We needed a base to operate from. A small office. (I had always intended the gift shop would be online.) I wanted to put up photos of moose, lots of moose. I wanted to put up maps and posters and have an area where we could talk with people about the tours they wanted. (The one thing I've left out is the fact that we had always planned to do other tours as well.) A rubbermaid computer desk contributed by a friend found it's way to the shop and my husband (God Bless him!) began what so far seems to be his lot in life. He moved my computer, the file cabinet, and a couple chairs from our home to the store. A hand lettered 8 1/2 x 11" sign in the window told people we would be open soon. But let me sidestep for a minute...
Our home was a 72' trailer in a nearby park and in a moment of cerebral clarity we decided to sell the trailer to facilitate the purchase of our first tour van. My husband moved the couch, more chairs, bookcases, a large table, a microwave, books, puzzles, games, tv, stand & VCR plus a couple boxes of tapes into the back of the store. We kept approximately a third of the space up front for the "office" as we still thought of it, and the rest of our space became our hospitality area where anyone could come in and sit, read, watch tv, etc. This was all very open, brightly lit, and I thought - quite pleasant. It was our plan that this would be a place for the "Downtown Gang" to hang out, but thinking - "even so"- they didn't need to be singled out, so we decided any and all should come, to tell stories, to have a cup of coffee, or to simply get in out of the rain.
The rest of our "stuff" Lee moved into a 12 x 12 foot storage unit in a neighboring town. All of his electronic things, radios, scanners, turntable, CDplayer were lovingly placed on a loft like ledge where they would be safe, high and dry. All my favorite collectibles and Christmas decorations went on the loft on the other side. Trip by trip he filled this unit: our appliances, bureaus, hundreds of cookbooks, hundreds of other books, and probably hundreds of tapes. You must also understand we were just married eight years ago, and both of us being in our sixties and both pack rats, between us we had a lot of junk!! When nothing else would fit, he built a small storage shed on my mother's property, which he quickly filled. As our "Grand Opening!" zoomed at us we moved to my mother's house, temporarily (who had time to hunt for an apartment now?) and, yes, he moved the rest of our belongings onto her porch. (Want to guess where it is now?)
When all the dust settled, we were open for business. We thought we should put a few gift items in the office, a display to draw attention to our website and online giftshop. Luckily for us we realized what we were attempting to do represented at least two businesses on some level, so I painfully decided we would wait to start the tours another year and concentrate on the shop for the time being.
The door was never locked while we worked, no paper over the window for us. The window took up all of the space along the front of our store that wasn't the door. (Did I say that?) As I told you in my first missive the store was 10' wide and 37' long. It was like being in a long narrow fishbowl, or a wind tunnel without the wind. At first people would wave to us, or motion "can we come in?" And in they came. People came in to wish us well, to find out what we were up to, to share advice, and some to offer help. One man visited regularly to tell us it couldn't be done! (He's lived here all his life and there's plenty of moose on his land, he sees the tracks, but he's only ever seen a handful of moose.) How did I think I was going to be able to go out and find moose for people every time? I admitted it might not happen everytime, but my answer to him was "first you have to look."
We were interviewed by a reporter from the weekly newspaper that operates next door and within days we were bottom of the front page news, picture and all. (The two of us standing behind our newly acquired small glass counter looking at our newly acquired second hand cash register!)
Someone asked us one day about the "downtown kids". We hadn't met them yet, but we learned it was just a handful of youngsters ranging in ages from (I think) ten to fourteen or fifteen. When I told this person about our plan for the extra space, they asked how we intended to put the word out to the kids. I know I laughed when I said, "they'll find us," and the next day they did.
I was sitting at the desk, lettering yet another poster for the window when I looked up and saw a young girl standing on the other side of the closed door. I nodded, smiled at her and continued working. A minute or two later I glanced up to see she was still there, watching me intently. I pointed at the door indicating she could come in, and when she stepped into the open doorway I suggested it was warm enough, leave the door open. She visited many times over the next few days, flitting in and out like a timid little bird, never staying long. After a few days she seemed more comfortable, more confident and she returned daily for visits that I have to admit I enjoyed very much. What we talked about I don't even remember now, but we talked while I worked and she helped me decorate the window and move things about. Then one day she came in, another child in tow, saying, "I want you to meet someone"...
That was the same week a tornado (YES, a tornado) picked up our 12' x 12' storage unit in Woodstock, lost it's grip, dropping the building three feet closer to the edge of a ravine, ripping half the roof off in the process. This was just one of the contingencies not covered by our plan!
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