Skip to main content

My Store--Ka ching

Yesterday, after reading my post about the demise of my local yarn shop, The Giggle Patch, two people emailed to suggest that I buy the store. Now, there is an interesting idea. It has occurred to me, I'll confess. It might be a problem, though, since I am no knitting expert. If someone were to walk in and ask me a question beyond the very basics of the craft, I would have to try to sell them an instruction book.

But there are other ventures I could launch into if I had the store. While I could keep a selection of yarn on hand, I could add my own touch. Hmm. Let me think.

The Cheesecake Patch: I have always wanted to have a cheesecake shop. Every time a store front becomes available in my little town, I think "what a great place for a cheesecake shop." I make a mean white chocolate cheesecake, and my raspberry marble cheesecake with a chocolate crust is amazing.

The Brass Patch:
I have struggled to find a time to take horn lessons this time of year, and driving the usual one-hour drive is out of the question until Daughter No. 2 is finished with her tennis season. So, with one section of the store devoted to the yarn, the other sections could be divided into sound-proof rooms, similar to the creepy guitar shop around the corner, and in my sound-proof rooms, people could learn to play brass instruments, with lessons taught by local musicians.

The Kitchen Patch: I can buy all kinds of basic kitchen supplies at my local Wal-Mart, but they lack style. My kitchen supply shop would provide unique and stylish tools and cookbooks--definitely cookbooks--to the discerning home chef. And personalized aprons.

The Cook's Patch: Beyond kitchen supplies, my town is in need of cooking lessons, and not just the basic instruction you can get at the local grocery store. I'm talking about cooking with character, something to encourage us all to broaden our horizons when it comes to food. I would be willing to teach the remedial classes myself, but I would be happy to bring in experts from the outside world.

The Book Patch: Can you believe there isn't one bookstore in my town? There is one in the next town, just ten minutes away, and a couple of used bookstores as well, but not one within our city limits. So, yarn and books, then. A full line of great books, like a mini-Borders but without the coffee shop. For that, you'll have to walk to My Favorite Place for Joe about a block away.

The Frame Patch: My town has an abundance of photographers, one on every corner, it seems. But we don't have a picture frame studio, and since I used to work in one, teaching people to make their own frames, I think having a shop that provides custom-made frames for all the photographs we evidently need would be a success.

The Artist Patch: This is my favorite and I think the most viable. My town has plenty of craft supplies--like scrapbooking stuff and those creepy plastic heads and hands for crocheted dolls, the kind your grandmother used to make. But to find top-quality paints or brushes or canvases or watercolor paper, you have to drive 30 miles north. The Artist Patch would sell all of those things, and there might even be a lesson or two. I would sign up for them, even as the owner, because I know about as much about painting as I do about owning my own business.

If you owned your own store, what would you sell?

Comments

Sassy Sundry said…
You should totally have a yarn hybrid patch.

Let's see... I would have the pottery patch. That would be fun.
Anonymous said…
I would be the one owning the Cooking Patch for sure! I would love to share my cooking ability with others. I once looked into starting my own business of homemade meals that I would deliver each week to your home and would be handsomely paid for doing it! It never made it past a visit to a lady who was doing it in Southern NH.
Great post Robyn - hmmm if I could, I would surely serve up coffee of all kinds and offer massage to the ladies complete with head to toe treatmant offered by yours truly.
dive said…
Your town has no bookstore?
Wow, Robyn! How do you survive?

I love all of your ideas.
If I had a store I think I'd sell lost time. Come on in and buy back a few years.
Anonymous said…
This is a wonderful, original post Robyn. I'd have a second hand bookshop with a very comfy chair in a sunny window for people who can't afford to buy to just sit and read for a while. This is quite impractical of course because I'd end up just giving them the book they wanted or at least lending it to them. So, I guess it would be me sitting in that chair, reading away and just taking contributions as people walked out the door.
Scout said…
wow, everyone has such great ideas. I didn't even think of pottery, and of course it would never occur to me to open a hybrid shop offering coffee and massages (Rich, seriously). Dive's idea of selling lost time is ingenious, if only it were possible. And a book shop that lets you just sit and read in a comfy chair? I'll take it. We'd lose our houses due to lack of income, Mme Benaut, but it would be lovely just the same.
peahen said…
I'd sell art of all kinds. The creativity of others can be very inspiring. Trouble is, I'd be too busy visiting both your yarn patch and your brass patch! If such an arrangement were possible, I'd teach newbies to play in return for receiving lessons from more experienced players!
peahen said…
and on a sillier note (I'm surprised Dive hasn't beaten me to this one): the eye patch (opticians), bald patch (gents hairdressers) and dis patch (office for sending parcels).
Scout said…
Oh, Pea! That is so funny!! Very very clever, you are.
Gina said…
I would be like Lucy and sell advice, although for a little more than five cents.
Anonymous said…
I think you should do it Robyn, open the store, keep the yarn. Bring in some cookbooks and funky accessories and serve just a little coffee and cheese cake. You'll attract all sorts of crafty types who could run a free class every now and then.

Popular posts from this blog

An Offending Pile

So, I'm standing in my living room letting my mind wander for a minute or two as I stare out the window and watch the day go by, and I see my neighbors walking their dogs down the street. They are nice neighbors who are always friendly and responsible with their property. That is to say they aren't like the other neighbors who heap rubbish behind their house like Ma and Pa Kettle and let their dogs bark for thirty minutes at a time . Anyway, I see the nice people walking their dogs, a big golden retriever who is as sweet as can be and as dumb as a post—he once ate a sock and nearly died before it was surgically removed—and a new golden retriever puppy. Then I see Neighbor Wife suddenly run down the street with the big dog. Then I see Neighbor Husband stopped in front of my house with the puppy on its leash. And then I see the puppy taking a huge dump in my grass. Let me tell you, that is not done in this town unless the dog owner has a plastic bag handy and is ready to pick up ...

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...

Long Live Anita Bowser

You know I occasionally check my hometown newspaper's website to scan the obituaries (morbid, I know, but I'm at that age). Over this past weekend, I read the obituary of Indiana State Senator Anita Bowser . She was a noted Democrat who championed causes protecting the neediest in the state's population. She was respected on both sides of the aisle for her intelligence and plain and outspoken approach to law making. The picture on her senate page is lovely. I remember none of those things about Anita Bowser . My first year or so in college was spent at a branch of Purdue University, and in the early 80s, Anita was a political science professor. She taught my American Government class my freshman year, and she was a mess. Somewhere in my old text book, I have a sketch of her drawn on a particularly dull day in class--her hose sagged at her ankles, her slip showed at least half an inch all the way around, her hair had been slept on but not brushed, and her bright red lip stic...