The Future(?) Saleswoman

Many of you are aware that I have an eight-year old daughter named Megan. (If you’re not sure, then you didn’t know – no one who’s met Megan forgets her). Megan has one of those bright, loud personalities that baffles her somewhat introverted parents. At restaurants, it’s not unusual for Megan to turn to the people in the next booth and announce, “HI. I’m Megan, this is my dad and this is my mom.” She’s done this since she learned to talk. (Typically, my husband, Tom, and I turn red in the face, nod, then hiss, “Megan, sit down.”). Even before she learned to talk, Megan once insisted a fellow patient at the medical clinic pay his attention to her rather than to the friend with whom he had been chatting. In addition to loving attention, Megan, like many children, loves money. So really, it was only a matter of time before she hatched the idea to set up a lemonade stand. What could be more fitting for a talkative, money-seeking girl? Tom and I decided to make the most of this and turn the idea into an economics lesson (we are, after all parents, and it’s our job to make fun things a little more mundane and practical). We explained to Megan that she needed to spend her allowance to buy the necessary materials for a lemonade stand. If she spent $10 on materials, she would need to sell $10 worth of lemonade to earn her money back. Anything beyond that would be profit. We made a trip to the grocery store, and the debate over what to buy began. Real lemons? This was quickly dismissed since we don’t own a juicer. Powder? Frozen? Pink? Yellow? Raspberry? We compared unit prices on plastic cups. We hemmed and hawed over ice bags – 5 pounds or 20? At one point, Megan stopped me in the aisle and said, “Wait. What if I don’t sell enough to earn back what I spent?” Welcome to business, honey. Anyone who ventured down 3rd Street in Park Rapids on the afternoon of June 21st likely heard a girl calling, “LEMONADE! ONE DOLLAR PER GLASS!” (If a person happened by at the right moment, s/he could have heard/seen Megan look her grandmother in the eye and declare, “Some people have tipped me.”). Determined to maximize her profit, Megan refused to vacate her stand until she had sold 50 glasses of lemonade (she had bought 50 plastic cups). When she got down to 3 cups, Tom was sorely tempted to buy them up, but he resisted the urge. To be honest, Megan and I butt heads a lot. (I say this is Megan’s fault, and when I do, Tom gives me the look). There was no butting heads yesterday. How could there be? My baby put her best skills to the test and came out a winner. Now if I could get her to sell fifty books in four hours…plus tips…hmm…

Stone Soup Revisited

It’s less than a week before the CSA boxes begin their regular arrival for those of us signed up for the Morgans’ CSA program. For those of you unfamiliar with CSA, it stands for Community Supported Agriculture. My family bought a share of the farm for the summer and so we will receive a share of the harvest for the summer. I can’t help but think about the summer when we did the Stone Soup project at Beagle Books. For eight weeks, a group of us gathered at Beagle to discuss Barbara Kingsolver, Steven Hopp, and Camille Kingsolver’s book, Animal Vegetable Miracle and to explore the many opportunities we have to indulge in locally grown food and drink. We took two field trips to the CSA farm (one at the beginning of the season and one later in the season) and were blessed with visits from local food experts including Forestedge Winery, Bill Maki (wild ricing), Chef Tom (morel mushroom hunting), Donna Ludwinksi (bread making), Sari Mabbett (cheese making), and more. We ended the summer with a feast of local foods. It was a summer of exploration and change for me, and I hope for others. Maybe we should have a Stone Soup reunion. I wonder if the other participants still think about choosing local foods when making their food choices. Do they pause when discovering a desired food traveled here from another continent, consider the food miles, and put the item back? I hope so. My mantra that summer was, “start small.” I encouraged my fellow Stone Soupers to make one small change, make it a habit, and then make another small change, etc. Have the others done this? To be honest, I myself have not made a new small change in some time. To my credit, though, I have stuck with the habits I created that summer. I still buy raw milk from a local farmer, eat local meat, buy a CSA share every summer. I avoid bananas. I buy wine produced by my local winery. I pick strawberries at Keskes Farm. I’ve noticed one of the grocery stores in Park Rapids makes a point in their ads to highlight local items available. Has a change for the better occurred right here in the small town of Park Rapids? I hope so. I credit the Kingsolver/Hopp family – their experiences eating only local foods for one year recorded in a book for the rest of us is invaluable. That is truly the power of a good book.

Public Displays of Affection at Beagle Books

Have you heard that there’s been a sharp increase of public displays of affection at Beagle Books? Well, it just so happens that it’s true. Don’t be surprised during your next visit if you either witness a hugging or you yourself are the target of a hugging. This is the time of year when we are reunited with so many dear people we lose every winter. Many of our customers of course head south to Arizona or Florida, but the largest migration, believe it or not, comes from Nebraska. (Being raised in Oklahoma, this has taken some adjustment for me to be polite to Corn Huskers – there is a serious football rivalry between Nebraska and Oklahoma). I picture Nebraska in the summer as a sort of empty landscape with the sound of crickets chirping (which of course begs the question, if no self-centered person is around to hear the crickets chirp, do they still chirp?) Once upon a time, it was my understanding that hugs between retail workers and customers was only marginally acceptable. Now I’ve decided that what the public really wants in an independent bookstore is passionate, caring, interesting (even eccentric) booksellers. Why else are we able to get away with wearing funky socks and dangly earrings? Really, hugging has re-gained acceptance. In some cases, I daresay it would be rude were I not to greet a customer who’s been gone for many months with a hug. So come on in, get your books, cards, music, and of course, hugs.