Cottage Industries - A Sign of the Times?

I was driving down I-20 a few mornings ago, daydreaming as I drove to my job over near Spaghetti Junction. I had been listening to country music, as I always do when I’m in the car, and for some reason it had begun grating on my nerves. I switched off the radio, and was enjoying the silence inside my car. Because I wasn’t bombarded with music, I became more aware of my surroundings, namely the other cars on the highway. A new phenomenon became obvious to me as vehicles passed me and I whizzed past others, giving me pause for thought. I began reading magnetic car signs.

The first one that caught my eye was an old pick-up truck towing an open trailer loaded with lawn mowers, rakes, blowers, and all the stuff needed to manicure a lawn. Pasted to the driver’s side door as I passed this slow poke was a magnetic sign advertising “ABC Lawn Service”. I glanced as I passed, noting that inside the truck was a young man and woman.

Next was a mini-van that buzzed by me. The first thing I noticed was the extension ladder fastened to the roof. The magnetic sign on the side of this vehicle identified the young woman driving – “Kim’s Chandelier Cleaning” - complete with phone number and website. Kim, who I assumed was the driver, was an attractive African-American woman, probably in her 30s or 40s.

A little further down the highway, I discovered more interesting reading. There was a sign stuck to the side of an old sedan. It read “East Atlanta Courier”. A man about my age was the driver, and he was obviously in a hurry to get somewhere. We were at a place on the interstate where the traffic was stop-and-go, and we inched forward side-by-side along the jammed-up highway. I knew he was in a hurry, because he was drumming the steering wheel with his hands and was furiously chewing on a piece of gum. He kept answering his cell phone, talking for a couple of seconds and then hanging up. I imagined that he was updating someone on his progress, while carrying an important document or package to its destination in Atlanta.

Once traffic began moving again, more cars and trucks of varying ages and conditions caught my eye. I saw one advertising a “fix-it man”, another hawked “cake decorating”, and yet another claimed to be “carpenter, dry-wall, painter, plumber, electrician.” Wow! A man of many talents in that old truck! I also saw three Mary Kay decals on back windows and an Amway bumper sticker. I hadn’t seen one of those in years. I also passed four more lawn care trucks and trailers. This must be a pretty lucrative business, or at the least a relatively easy one to start up.

All of this set my mind to thinking about the people supplying these services and products. I wondered if they, like me, had been the recipients of a lay-off visit from human resources somewhere in the past couple of years. Were they still looking for work, or had they used their ingenuity to reinvent themselves with independent businesses in order to make a living? I was curious, and also impressed.

I then began thinking about myself, imagining what my magnetic sign might say if I had one. Of course, “Jennie Lou’s Treehouse” came to mind, as this is the name of my Saturday market booth. What would I advertise - my home-baked breads, jams and jellies, the cotton and bamboo fiber wash cloths that I knit and crochet, photo note cards, rag rugs, dried herbs, fresh vegetables? Or would I hawk the services I provide – research, organization management, meeting planning, tutoring, writing? I would most certainly need a super-sized sign for all of the little things that have kept me busy since I left my last office!

I turned into the driveway of my part-time job, which by the way, is located in my friend, Beth’s, home, and is a very successful independent enterprise. I was ready for a day of utilizing my talents to help her business flourish. I grabbed my bag filled with bread, jelly, and vegetables from my garden, and entered her home ready for a day of research, proofreading, organizing, data entry- whatever tasks she had ready for me.

With one last thought of the people I had “met” on the interstate, I said a quick prayer for them to succeed in their endeavors, and began my workday.

My Cottage Industry

Yesterday was my first day to set up my booth at the Monroe Outdoor Market. Phil built a wonderful display “kiosk” for me last week, and I was eager to see how it would work. Made of left-over kitchen cabinet doors and an old market umbrella we had used on our deck years ago, it was an answer to the market requirement that all vendors must set up under some kind of canopy over our display tables. Compact and sturdy, Phil was sure that his creation would be perfect for me. I thought so, too, and looked forward to my first day at the market.

I woke up early in order to get ready, went outside to pick fresh lettuce and herbs, and by 8:00 am, we were on our way to Monroe. When we pulled up into the vacant lot that transforms into a market every Saturday during the growing season, I was warmly greeted by old friends from last year’s market, and met a couple of newcomer vendors. It didn’t take Phil more than a couple of minutes to unload my new display kiosk, and for me to raise the umbrella. I couldn’t have been more pleased, and within another few minutes I was ready for business. Phil stayed around for a little while, but then left me there alone while he ran some Saturday morning errands.

I set out my loaves of bread, arranged my jars of jelly, and put the lettuce and herbs in a place where they would be easily seen by browsing shoppers. I had decided at the last minute to take a box of my photo note cards and a basket of my knitted and crocheted cotton dish cloths to add a little color to my booth. I set up my canvas chair, got out my crochet hook and ball of yarn, and waited to see what would happen.

Being a holiday week-end, we weren’t sure how many people would visit the market. The other vendors commented on the small amount of traffic walking through the market, but I was delighted. Most of the early birds were merely looking and visiting, checking things out, looking for fresh vegetables, of which there were few. Soon all of the early squash, new potatoes and spring greens were gone. A few people stopped by my booth to see what I had, and bought a loaf of bread or jar of jelly. Several asked me if I was going to be a regular vendor at the market - they had already bought bread for the week, but were interested in what I’d have next week. I also had inquiries on what herbs I would have, and I promised that there would be some there next week. My one pack of cilantro sold within the first hour. One shopper zeroed in on my basket of dish cloths and selected two to purchase, not blinking twice at the price. I was thrilled!

By 11:00, I had sold all but three loaves of bread and things were slowing down. It was now time to barter. I visited one of my friends who was selling home-made English muffins. She wanted to try my cracked wheat bread, so we made a trade. I also got a dozen fresh eggs and a package of fresh roast coffee in exchange for either bread or jelly.

When Phil arrived at noon, I had already taken down the umbrella and put away my left-overs, of which there were few. He helped me load my table and umbrella into the truck, and we helped the other vendors fold up their canopies. As we pulled out of the lot, I began counting my money. I discovered that it had been a good morning for me. Even though it seemed that it was a quiet morning, I had surpassed my goal of how much I wanted to make.

So, now I need to think about making more jelly, deciding what kinds of bread to bake on Friday, and getting some more cotton yarn to make more dish cloths. I also need to come up with a better way to display my photo note cards – I think they’ll sell if they are more visible. Being a market vendor certainly won’t make me rich, but it’s a delightful cottage industry, and a wonderful way to spend a Saturday morning.

I’m already looking forward to next Saturday!