"The stockings have been hung with care
Without Gently Spoken inspirations they’d seem quite bare
Awaiting their chance to encourage and empower
Closer and closer ticks the holiday hour
And who’s to thank for spreading such holiday cheer?
Why, the same wonderful people who’ve helped us throughout the year!
Our friends, reps, vendors, and printers
Without you there simply couldn’t be any PEAS this winter."
Monday, December 28, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Grateful People are Happy People
Is it true? Are grateful people also happier people? My friend and mentor, Dr. Tom Hill, claims research says it's so. And I believe him. Surveys of the gratefulness levels of family and friends confirmed what I’ve found to be true in myself.
Are grateful people happy all the time? Goodness, no! It's just that the odds are in their favor. Even in challenging times, when they’re struggling with relationship, health, job or financial issues, grateful people often see through the fog of uncertainty and fear. They see hope on the horizon and look for life lessons to grow by.
As I grow older, I find myself naturally becoming more grateful. So many people and places amaze, even astound me. Like you! And Torrie and Maggi, young women who work behind the scenes at Gently Spoken who are incredibly smart and self-directed. They make me look good. Come to think of it, my personal gratitude list is infinite! Family. Friends. My neighbor Eva. I still look at Mark, my eHarmony husband, in awe, and my mom never ceases to inspire me. Mom's the ultimate grateful one. No wonder she's still a spitfire at the age of 88. She spends a great deal of her day counting her blessings (I'm not kidding).
Writing about Mom makes me think of food. I LOVE food and my gratitude shows. As a result, I'll be eternally grateful for the amazing tummy holding power of Not My Daughters jeans (If you haven't tried them, run to your nearest store. They're worth every penny.). I'm also thankful for my legs that take me on spirited adventures and help me walk off calories from eating too many piping hot cheesy enchiladas, even if it's sometimes means only walking to the corner store. My legs bring me such happiness! I'm grateful for eyes that help me see nature's extraordinary beauty.
I'm grateful for every breath. Today I will breath deeply and take a moment to reflect and be grateful.
How about you? What are you grateful for?
Ever grateful,
Cheryl
Are grateful people happy all the time? Goodness, no! It's just that the odds are in their favor. Even in challenging times, when they’re struggling with relationship, health, job or financial issues, grateful people often see through the fog of uncertainty and fear. They see hope on the horizon and look for life lessons to grow by.
As I grow older, I find myself naturally becoming more grateful. So many people and places amaze, even astound me. Like you! And Torrie and Maggi, young women who work behind the scenes at Gently Spoken who are incredibly smart and self-directed. They make me look good. Come to think of it, my personal gratitude list is infinite! Family. Friends. My neighbor Eva. I still look at Mark, my eHarmony husband, in awe, and my mom never ceases to inspire me. Mom's the ultimate grateful one. No wonder she's still a spitfire at the age of 88. She spends a great deal of her day counting her blessings (I'm not kidding).
Writing about Mom makes me think of food. I LOVE food and my gratitude shows. As a result, I'll be eternally grateful for the amazing tummy holding power of Not My Daughters jeans (If you haven't tried them, run to your nearest store. They're worth every penny.). I'm also thankful for my legs that take me on spirited adventures and help me walk off calories from eating too many piping hot cheesy enchiladas, even if it's sometimes means only walking to the corner store. My legs bring me such happiness! I'm grateful for eyes that help me see nature's extraordinary beauty.
I'm grateful for every breath. Today I will breath deeply and take a moment to reflect and be grateful.
How about you? What are you grateful for?
Ever grateful,
Cheryl
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Red Lights
I always try to be grateful for the little things, because all of those little details really do make a difference in our lives. Today, I was profoundly grateful for…the little red light on my electric stove top! This selfless little light stayed on long after I’d forgotten I had a heater burning. If it wasn’t for that light, the burner could have been left on for hours before I noticed it, and that could have been very dangerous indeed.
It's nearly Thanksgiving, a time of year that reminds us to be grateful for all the little red lights in our lives. It’s part of my mission to express gratitude for those lights, be they human or inanimate. I’ve noticed that when I affirm someone lately—verbally or especially in writing—they say, "You don't know how badly I needed to hear that today." I think a lot of people: moms, dads, co-workers, husbands, sisters, friends, neighbors, teachers and kids, are walking around doubting their magnificence, stressed beyond measure and feeling a bit overwhelmed dealing with all the activity and responsibility of their lives.
I'm today's red light, and I’m blinking at you in reminder of all the wonderful people in your life.
Why not send an email or a note to someone today and remind them how extraordinary they are? Tell them how much you admire their courage, their talent, their undying faith or their tireless role as a working mom or dad. Send a note of appreciation. Send a love note. For no reason at all.
Inspiration comes from the strangest places. Keep an eye out for red lights.
It's nearly Thanksgiving, a time of year that reminds us to be grateful for all the little red lights in our lives. It’s part of my mission to express gratitude for those lights, be they human or inanimate. I’ve noticed that when I affirm someone lately—verbally or especially in writing—they say, "You don't know how badly I needed to hear that today." I think a lot of people: moms, dads, co-workers, husbands, sisters, friends, neighbors, teachers and kids, are walking around doubting their magnificence, stressed beyond measure and feeling a bit overwhelmed dealing with all the activity and responsibility of their lives.
I'm today's red light, and I’m blinking at you in reminder of all the wonderful people in your life.
Why not send an email or a note to someone today and remind them how extraordinary they are? Tell them how much you admire their courage, their talent, their undying faith or their tireless role as a working mom or dad. Send a note of appreciation. Send a love note. For no reason at all.
Inspiration comes from the strangest places. Keep an eye out for red lights.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Turning 52
I turned 52 today. It feels good to be 52. I used to think 52 was old. Now I think it’s young—because that’s how I feel. Young.
I want to run through fields of daisies. I want to climb more mountains and be amazed when I reach the top. I want to kayak through the San Juan Islands in my sporty yellow Eddyline, paddling effortlessly while whales shoot water from their spouts, so close I can almost touch them. I want to reach out to more people with empowering and encouraging words. The world has so much angst; could I possibly be a bright light? I want to love more (my heart is big). Laugh more (Is that possible?). And I want to actually prepare a recipe from the pages of Bon Appetite.
It’s going to be a busy year.
I want to run through fields of daisies. I want to climb more mountains and be amazed when I reach the top. I want to kayak through the San Juan Islands in my sporty yellow Eddyline, paddling effortlessly while whales shoot water from their spouts, so close I can almost touch them. I want to reach out to more people with empowering and encouraging words. The world has so much angst; could I possibly be a bright light? I want to love more (my heart is big). Laugh more (Is that possible?). And I want to actually prepare a recipe from the pages of Bon Appetite.
It’s going to be a busy year.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Waiting
I have never been very good at waiting. I like things to happen—now! Push a button, change the channel, problem solved. I was reminded of just how unaccustomed I was to waiting when our internet suddenly stopped working and could not be fixed for several days. Several long days.
My folks’ generation was used to waiting. During the depression they waited in lines for rationing coupons, sugar and tires. Mom waited forever to save enough money for a new dress or a precious pair of nylons. My dad waited patiently for our family crops to grow.
My folks spent a lot of time waiting. It was just what they did.
With little complaint.
So what makes me think I need everything …now? Well, it’s a new era. Technology has spoiled us with nearly instantaneous everything: movies, access to any expert or information, instant cash or credit, directions, good books, hot meals…all are just a button or click away.
Except, of course, for the internet problem. I couldn’t solve it with a click of a button and neither could the experts. So what did I do? I waited. And you know what? I survived. It didn’t hurt me one bit to have to wait a few days to check my email. The world wide web didn’t cave in without me.
And the truth is you simply need to wait for some things, like maturity, friends, family and coworkers, your hair to grow, a zit to dry up and disappear, security lines at the airport, a green light.
Sometimes you even have to wait for love. Believe me, I know. I waited 48 years. And it was worth every moment. Maybe waiting isn’t so bad after all.
After all, waiting builds patience, character, courage, gratitude, faith and so much more. Waiting for the things we think should be instantaneous gives us time to do the things we think we don’t have time for, like writing a personal thank you note or cleaning out the closet. And, as they say, good things come to those who wait (my husband is living proof of that!).
So I am going to try to be more patient, to appreciate the process as much as the end results. In fact, I can hardly WAIT to get started!
Patiently,
Cheryl
My folks’ generation was used to waiting. During the depression they waited in lines for rationing coupons, sugar and tires. Mom waited forever to save enough money for a new dress or a precious pair of nylons. My dad waited patiently for our family crops to grow.
My folks spent a lot of time waiting. It was just what they did.
With little complaint.
So what makes me think I need everything …now? Well, it’s a new era. Technology has spoiled us with nearly instantaneous everything: movies, access to any expert or information, instant cash or credit, directions, good books, hot meals…all are just a button or click away.
Except, of course, for the internet problem. I couldn’t solve it with a click of a button and neither could the experts. So what did I do? I waited. And you know what? I survived. It didn’t hurt me one bit to have to wait a few days to check my email. The world wide web didn’t cave in without me.
And the truth is you simply need to wait for some things, like maturity, friends, family and coworkers, your hair to grow, a zit to dry up and disappear, security lines at the airport, a green light.
Sometimes you even have to wait for love. Believe me, I know. I waited 48 years. And it was worth every moment. Maybe waiting isn’t so bad after all.
After all, waiting builds patience, character, courage, gratitude, faith and so much more. Waiting for the things we think should be instantaneous gives us time to do the things we think we don’t have time for, like writing a personal thank you note or cleaning out the closet. And, as they say, good things come to those who wait (my husband is living proof of that!).
So I am going to try to be more patient, to appreciate the process as much as the end results. In fact, I can hardly WAIT to get started!
Patiently,
Cheryl
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Full Circle
Customers, neighbors, vendors, and friends, they’re all chiming the same words. “Cheryl, you’ve come full circle. How does it feel?”
Scary, thrilling, exciting, overwhelming—all at the same time. Really.
I didn’t mean for this to happen. I simply couldn’t help myself. OMG, maybe it is true. Do I have an addiction—to creating and operating pretty stores?
A couple of weeks ago, I opened the doors to my publishing company’s first ever retail store, Gently Spoken, on Anoka’s historic Main Street. But it’s not like I’m new to the neighborhood. This is the fifth location I’ve operated a retail store in—within the same block, in the same city, during the past 16 years.
What could have ever inspired me to do it all over again, especially considering the current state of the economy? Earlier this summer while reading a book called The Reluctant Tuscan by Phil Doran, I had a revelation (great book, by the way). Just as the author discovered the beauty of being part of a small Tuscan village where people knew his name, cared about him and his wife, laughed and cried tears with him, I, too, yearned once again to be part of something larger than myself. I needed people.
One by one they’re trickling in.
And they’re giddy and I’m giddy. It’s like an all day, every day high school reunion. Connecting with my old customers is a thrill. They want to hear about my life: where I’ve been, what I’ve been doing, and did I really get married? To be frank, I don’t want to talk about me. Life has been great! I want to hear their stories. It’s been five years since I sold my two former stores and I have a lot of catching up to do. Did Sally ever complete her MBA? Did Debbie finally leave a job she loathed? Did Becky and Allen ever sell their company and spend a year sailing the world? Is Cathy’s MS still in remission?
For many years “we,” my customers and I, were so closely connected: growing, becoming, imagining and dreaming together. I missed them immensely. I yearned to hear their voices and their stories.
So here I am, listening once again. Dreams have been dashed and realized. Lives and careers have been reinvented. Faith has been challenged. Faith has grown. Teen kids grew up and even survived, and so did their parents! Grandkids were born and brought much joy. Hearts have been broken. New love abounds! Life is, after all, a circle.
And it’s so good to be home.
Ever grateful,
Cheryl
Scary, thrilling, exciting, overwhelming—all at the same time. Really.
I didn’t mean for this to happen. I simply couldn’t help myself. OMG, maybe it is true. Do I have an addiction—to creating and operating pretty stores?
A couple of weeks ago, I opened the doors to my publishing company’s first ever retail store, Gently Spoken, on Anoka’s historic Main Street. But it’s not like I’m new to the neighborhood. This is the fifth location I’ve operated a retail store in—within the same block, in the same city, during the past 16 years.
What could have ever inspired me to do it all over again, especially considering the current state of the economy? Earlier this summer while reading a book called The Reluctant Tuscan by Phil Doran, I had a revelation (great book, by the way). Just as the author discovered the beauty of being part of a small Tuscan village where people knew his name, cared about him and his wife, laughed and cried tears with him, I, too, yearned once again to be part of something larger than myself. I needed people.
One by one they’re trickling in.
And they’re giddy and I’m giddy. It’s like an all day, every day high school reunion. Connecting with my old customers is a thrill. They want to hear about my life: where I’ve been, what I’ve been doing, and did I really get married? To be frank, I don’t want to talk about me. Life has been great! I want to hear their stories. It’s been five years since I sold my two former stores and I have a lot of catching up to do. Did Sally ever complete her MBA? Did Debbie finally leave a job she loathed? Did Becky and Allen ever sell their company and spend a year sailing the world? Is Cathy’s MS still in remission?
For many years “we,” my customers and I, were so closely connected: growing, becoming, imagining and dreaming together. I missed them immensely. I yearned to hear their voices and their stories.
So here I am, listening once again. Dreams have been dashed and realized. Lives and careers have been reinvented. Faith has been challenged. Faith has grown. Teen kids grew up and even survived, and so did their parents! Grandkids were born and brought much joy. Hearts have been broken. New love abounds! Life is, after all, a circle.
And it’s so good to be home.
Ever grateful,
Cheryl
Friday, August 28, 2009
Gnome Gets Respect He Deserves
Well well well. It's about time someone listened to my advice and set up a shrine to the Gently Spoken Gnome. That's me, Charles, if you haven't figured that out already. This shrine is bright blue and green and contains shelves full of product and tables artfully arranged all as an offering to yours truly. Now, you may have heard that this shrine is called "Gently Spoken," and some folks are calling it a gift store, paperie, and all-around center of serenity. Ha! I know a Gnome Shrine when I see one.
The neighbors are delighted, too. They've brought offerings of glorious flowers and plants that really tie the room together, all to welcome me into their vicinity. Of course, this is no less than I deserve, but I will admit it pleases me. I think I will like having them in my presence.
I even have my own throne now, from which I can oversee the wholesale operation and keep my peons (mainly Torrie) in line. If I do say so myself, I look rather majestic when viewed from on high. If that lazy girl even got around to dusting and making a nice mat for me to sit on. I have delegated my paper clip guarding duties, because there simply isn't time for me to bother with the work of underlings now that I've assumed a more prominent role in the company.
Just wait until Cheryl goes on her globe trotting trip come fall...the company is mine! Mine! Mwa hahahaha!
Eh hem. Excuse me. I got a little carried away. The time will come soon enough when I may officially proclaim my superiority over the office, so until then I can work to contain myself. Yes, things are turning up waxy indeed for this gentlegnome.
And not a fly in the place.
C. St. Gnomey, esq.
The neighbors are delighted, too. They've brought offerings of glorious flowers and plants that really tie the room together, all to welcome me into their vicinity. Of course, this is no less than I deserve, but I will admit it pleases me. I think I will like having them in my presence.
I even have my own throne now, from which I can oversee the wholesale operation and keep my peons (mainly Torrie) in line. If I do say so myself, I look rather majestic when viewed from on high. If that lazy girl even got around to dusting and making a nice mat for me to sit on. I have delegated my paper clip guarding duties, because there simply isn't time for me to bother with the work of underlings now that I've assumed a more prominent role in the company.
Just wait until Cheryl goes on her globe trotting trip come fall...the company is mine! Mine! Mwa hahahaha!
Eh hem. Excuse me. I got a little carried away. The time will come soon enough when I may officially proclaim my superiority over the office, so until then I can work to contain myself. Yes, things are turning up waxy indeed for this gentlegnome.
And not a fly in the place.
C. St. Gnomey, esq.
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Gnome Speaks!
Charles St. Gnomey here, official gnome of Whirled Peas Headquarters. I'm chuffed to be writing a guest column on Gently Spoken's shiny new blog, the first ever by an inanimate object in the office. Take that, stuffed frog! You lose, Pink dog! Ahh, but I kid. You might think being a citronella gnome candle who guards over the office all day long is a boring occupation, but you'd be amazed by the insanity I bear witness to time and again. Oh, the stories I could tell you. The frightening things I've seen: Cheryl without her coffee, for instance.
I've been given this opportunity because your normal correspondent is happily swamped with orders to process and can't fulfill her epistolary obligations. Apparently, there's a new line called Just gotta tell you... that all the humans are prattling on about, speaking nonsense like "aqueous process" and "margins." These things concern me not. In fact, there are plenty of things a gnome could say about the state of this office. Does anyone, in their new paper printing frenzy, stop to dust the desk on which I sit? Ha! These paper clips that I so nobly and uncomplainingly guard over night and day are getting mixed up. Does no one care for the careful organization of size and color? Obviously not! And don't even get me started on Edward, that sneaky undead assistant to the GM, who hoards all the large, shiny colored clips to himself and stands by the computer with his perpetually brooding expression.
I don't much care for paper products, I'm not going to lie to you. Sure, they tell me they've switched to recycled paper and they're printing with soy ink, and some other bosh about FSC certification. Do they want a gold star or something? You know what's more important than environmental responsibility? That's right, the gnome! Here I sit, gently wafting citronella throughout the office, warding off insects. There hasn't been a fly in my vicinity since I emerged from my box last summer, handsomely yellow and quite tall--if I do say so myself--for a candle. I give my waxy heart and soul to this company and receive nothing in return but the occasional "oh cute!" from a visitor. Cute?! What's cute about guarding paper clips with my life, risking proximity to matches and sunlight on a daily basis, all for the selfless purpose of making Cheryl and Torrie's lives a little easier? It's called being a gentlegnome.
I guess if I had to buy a card, match to my head, no other options, I'd get one of these Just gotta tell you... ones. They are 16 pages long, and that's a lot better than those sissy single fold cards masquerading as a card and gift in one. I can't tell you if the paper is as soft as they claim, because my hands are affixed to my sides for all bleeding eternity, but I know a nice paper when I smell one. And I can guarantee there will be NO FLIES anywhere near a card that comes from this office. How many other companies can make that claim?
There. That's all the praise you'll get out of me! I'm already running my mouth off too much; we gnomes are supposed to be stoic. Don't go looking to me for sentiment. No sir, that's Cheryl's territory. I wouldn't have to come up with anything at all if Torrie weren't so preoccupied (cough-lazy-cough!) with her "orders." Wait, can she see me writing this? Um. That's all. Stop begging to hear more. I have my priorities. There are paper clips to guard.
I've been given this opportunity because your normal correspondent is happily swamped with orders to process and can't fulfill her epistolary obligations. Apparently, there's a new line called Just gotta tell you... that all the humans are prattling on about, speaking nonsense like "aqueous process" and "margins." These things concern me not. In fact, there are plenty of things a gnome could say about the state of this office. Does anyone, in their new paper printing frenzy, stop to dust the desk on which I sit? Ha! These paper clips that I so nobly and uncomplainingly guard over night and day are getting mixed up. Does no one care for the careful organization of size and color? Obviously not! And don't even get me started on Edward, that sneaky undead assistant to the GM, who hoards all the large, shiny colored clips to himself and stands by the computer with his perpetually brooding expression.
I don't much care for paper products, I'm not going to lie to you. Sure, they tell me they've switched to recycled paper and they're printing with soy ink, and some other bosh about FSC certification. Do they want a gold star or something? You know what's more important than environmental responsibility? That's right, the gnome! Here I sit, gently wafting citronella throughout the office, warding off insects. There hasn't been a fly in my vicinity since I emerged from my box last summer, handsomely yellow and quite tall--if I do say so myself--for a candle. I give my waxy heart and soul to this company and receive nothing in return but the occasional "oh cute!" from a visitor. Cute?! What's cute about guarding paper clips with my life, risking proximity to matches and sunlight on a daily basis, all for the selfless purpose of making Cheryl and Torrie's lives a little easier? It's called being a gentlegnome.
I guess if I had to buy a card, match to my head, no other options, I'd get one of these Just gotta tell you... ones. They are 16 pages long, and that's a lot better than those sissy single fold cards masquerading as a card and gift in one. I can't tell you if the paper is as soft as they claim, because my hands are affixed to my sides for all bleeding eternity, but I know a nice paper when I smell one. And I can guarantee there will be NO FLIES anywhere near a card that comes from this office. How many other companies can make that claim?
There. That's all the praise you'll get out of me! I'm already running my mouth off too much; we gnomes are supposed to be stoic. Don't go looking to me for sentiment. No sir, that's Cheryl's territory. I wouldn't have to come up with anything at all if Torrie weren't so preoccupied (cough-lazy-cough!) with her "orders." Wait, can she see me writing this? Um. That's all. Stop begging to hear more. I have my priorities. There are paper clips to guard.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Drinking Kool Aid
Ladies and gentlemen, it's that time of year again, that magical time when everyone momentarily goes insane in the pursuit of gorgeous displays, and the gift industry collectively drinks the Kool Aid. That's right: It's show season!
It takes some serious reprogramming to get used to advertising for Christmas in the middle of the summer. I remember attending "Christmas in July" craft fairs with my grandma when I was a kid, and getting equally excited and frustrated about the idea of Christmas: Woo hoo, decorations! Red and green! Nope...still hot out. Blast! Don't even get me started on thinking of summer colors in the dead of winter. It just seems wrong. But then, this is an industry in which we're always thinking ahead, and I have to stop thinking like a consumer.
I couldn't help but notice that the school supplies were out in stores already. Never mind that I'm done with school; it still makes me cringe to see all of those shiny new binders and erasers infringing on the carefree days of summer. The nerve! And I love office supplies--it's a conflicted relationship. And what's with all the fall clothes crowding into stores now? They know it's still hot out, right? We won't have cool weather until at least October. I'm just breaking in my summer clothes!
This is my theory: store owners are really excited about NEW stuff! Who wouldn't be? Sure, their customers (like me) aren't ready for the change yet, but then we haven't been staring at the same displays day in and day out like the retailers have. I'm sure by the end of a season, they have feelings akin to rage at the trendy shirts hanging there, staring them down.
It's kind of fun, actually, to be operating a season ahead of the crowd. Who else gets to pick out their Christmas decorations in July (other than, you know, Martha Stewart)? It's like cheating. We get to celebrate twice. Now if only we could find a way to incorporate Halloween decorations into the equation. That is a holiday that could easily go all month as far as I'm concerned. So long as I can still find a few articles of clothing on store racks not made out of wool, I'll just go with the disjointed flow.
It takes some serious reprogramming to get used to advertising for Christmas in the middle of the summer. I remember attending "Christmas in July" craft fairs with my grandma when I was a kid, and getting equally excited and frustrated about the idea of Christmas: Woo hoo, decorations! Red and green! Nope...still hot out. Blast! Don't even get me started on thinking of summer colors in the dead of winter. It just seems wrong. But then, this is an industry in which we're always thinking ahead, and I have to stop thinking like a consumer.
I couldn't help but notice that the school supplies were out in stores already. Never mind that I'm done with school; it still makes me cringe to see all of those shiny new binders and erasers infringing on the carefree days of summer. The nerve! And I love office supplies--it's a conflicted relationship. And what's with all the fall clothes crowding into stores now? They know it's still hot out, right? We won't have cool weather until at least October. I'm just breaking in my summer clothes!
This is my theory: store owners are really excited about NEW stuff! Who wouldn't be? Sure, their customers (like me) aren't ready for the change yet, but then we haven't been staring at the same displays day in and day out like the retailers have. I'm sure by the end of a season, they have feelings akin to rage at the trendy shirts hanging there, staring them down.
It's kind of fun, actually, to be operating a season ahead of the crowd. Who else gets to pick out their Christmas decorations in July (other than, you know, Martha Stewart)? It's like cheating. We get to celebrate twice. Now if only we could find a way to incorporate Halloween decorations into the equation. That is a holiday that could easily go all month as far as I'm concerned. So long as I can still find a few articles of clothing on store racks not made out of wool, I'll just go with the disjointed flow.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Oohing and Ahhing
Yours truly has just returned from a splendiferous trip to Charleston, a city so rich in history it requires its tour guides to carry a license. That's taking your tourism seriously. After oohing and ahhing at glorious old buildings for three days, I reluctantly came home to plain old Minnesota. On the ride home from the airport, it occurred to me that nothing is interesting in your homeland. The closer I got to Anoka, home of Whirled Peas Headquarters, the more the oddity of this realization struck me. If I didn't roam Anoka everyday, if it wasn't so familiar, I'm sure I'd be just as awed by the history of this city as I was by Charleston. Sure, we don't have the distinction of being the first state to secede, nor were the first shots of the Civil War fired on our soil, but we are a pretty historic river town in our own right (and the Halloween capital of the world!).
Something I've always loved about Anoka is its determination to preserve that history. Instead of tearing down old buildings to put up new ones with old-timey facades (like a certain town I know, which shall remain nameless), the city simply re-purposes the existing structures. The old post office, a stately brick structure, is now home to shops and eateries (our personal favorite, if you're in the area, is Cornerstone, makers of one fierce Oreo cookie salad). Main Street has done its best to keep its past alive, just like Charleston.
Which is why I think Anoka is such a good fit for Eat Your Peas. Never mind that the town spawned our author; that's besides the point. Anoka tries to preserve its uniqueness and independent spirit, rather than allowing faceless chains to infiltrate the main drag and transform it into a clone of every other shopping town in the area. These are the retailers who are in it for the love and for the long haul. They actually want to get to know their customers and make sure they're happy, and they don't need a big, generic building to do it in. Weird, huh?
On the drive home, I just might have to make a point of oohing and ahhing at at least a few buildings.
Something I've always loved about Anoka is its determination to preserve that history. Instead of tearing down old buildings to put up new ones with old-timey facades (like a certain town I know, which shall remain nameless), the city simply re-purposes the existing structures. The old post office, a stately brick structure, is now home to shops and eateries (our personal favorite, if you're in the area, is Cornerstone, makers of one fierce Oreo cookie salad). Main Street has done its best to keep its past alive, just like Charleston.
Which is why I think Anoka is such a good fit for Eat Your Peas. Never mind that the town spawned our author; that's besides the point. Anoka tries to preserve its uniqueness and independent spirit, rather than allowing faceless chains to infiltrate the main drag and transform it into a clone of every other shopping town in the area. These are the retailers who are in it for the love and for the long haul. They actually want to get to know their customers and make sure they're happy, and they don't need a big, generic building to do it in. Weird, huh?
On the drive home, I just might have to make a point of oohing and ahhing at at least a few buildings.
Friday, May 29, 2009
No Sweat (right??)
It's amazing how many steps are involved in the creation of a new product. I never thought about this prior to joining the team here at Peas HQ. Displays magically made their way to stores to be admired by unsuspecting shoppers like me. They're just there. I didn't have to think about it. And really, you ask, why should anyone? I suppose the simplest answer is that all of the effort that goes into putting a display in a store is rather astounding.
Take our newest line, Just gotta tell you..., for instance (and take it you ought, for it's physically impossible not to like it). This line began as a little seed inside the brain of our fearless leader. She wanted something with the heart of our Eat Your Peas books but more compact and maybe a little funnier. What if, she wondered, we had a series of phrases preceded by the expression "I've just gotta tell you!" How many times have we all said some variation of that phrase followed by some kernel of awesomeness we just had to get out? So there you have it: Step 1. An idea is born.
What never ceases to amaze me is how that idea actually comes to fruition.
Let me tell you, it involves a lot of brainstorming meetings! Fortunately, when it comes to storms of the brain, we're regular chasers around here. Everyone on the team originated their own lists of ideas independent of the group to avoid any cross-contamination. Then we all met to read them aloud to much acclaim (and snickering, in some cases). The best of the bunch were culled into categorical lists of potential cards, such as birthday, any occasion, sympathy, etc. End Step 2, begin Step 3! What good are lists of titles without any content?
While we scribble away at text to flesh out our new ideas, our wonderful artist, Sandy, simultaneously begins Step 4, which is the daunting task of turning the abstract images in Cheryl's head into fun, real life designs. Don't ask me how she does it. It's a state secret.
Countless rounds of matching words with pictures and revising and editing and did I mention revising follow (let's call that Steps 5-10). But wait, there's more! What kind of paper do we want? (Step 11) Which colors from the deck? (Step 12) And, oh no, is there a proper display with pockets this size? (Step 13) If not, would it be exorbitant to make one? (Step 13.5) Decisions, decisions!
But fear not, because--miracle of miracles--all of this craziness does come together in the end. There it is: a proof. Beautiful! Unless...the color isn't quite right, and don't you think we should move that text around? (Steps 14-20: further revision!)
And that's just brainstorming in the office! There are still the logistics of shipping the displays, introducing the line to reps and retailers alike, making sure everything comes in on time, redesigning the layout of the catalog to accommodate new product, creating promotional mailings...shweew! I'm exhausted just thinking about it, and I know I've missed a few steps here and there.
I honestly don't think I'll ever shop the same way again. This knowledge has infiltrated the very core of my previously ignorant brain. For instance, I bought a pair of pants this last weekend, and as I looked at the hanger the sales person let me take, I decided that department store routing guides probably require manufacturers to preprice and hang such pants in a manner that best suits their existing fixtures, which makes it possible for me to keep the hanger, because it won't work with future shipments and storage space is at a premium...ahhh! So much work to get that pair of pants in my hands! And this is all local; don't even get me started on international shipments!
Okay, it's official: I'm rambling now. The main point (yes, I have one!) is that so much of the world functions without us ever having to think about it and, at the end of the day, that might be the best mark of a job well done. If a consumer can wander into a store, spot something she can't live without, and cart it away without ever once having to think about all the sweat and tears (and blood, as anyone who has manhandled a tape gun knows) that went into putting it there, then we've all done our jobs. Like a virtuoso guitar player or ballroom dancer, the hundreds of hours of effort never show. We make it look easy.
Take our newest line, Just gotta tell you..., for instance (and take it you ought, for it's physically impossible not to like it). This line began as a little seed inside the brain of our fearless leader. She wanted something with the heart of our Eat Your Peas books but more compact and maybe a little funnier. What if, she wondered, we had a series of phrases preceded by the expression "I've just gotta tell you!" How many times have we all said some variation of that phrase followed by some kernel of awesomeness we just had to get out? So there you have it: Step 1. An idea is born.
What never ceases to amaze me is how that idea actually comes to fruition.
Let me tell you, it involves a lot of brainstorming meetings! Fortunately, when it comes to storms of the brain, we're regular chasers around here. Everyone on the team originated their own lists of ideas independent of the group to avoid any cross-contamination. Then we all met to read them aloud to much acclaim (and snickering, in some cases). The best of the bunch were culled into categorical lists of potential cards, such as birthday, any occasion, sympathy, etc. End Step 2, begin Step 3! What good are lists of titles without any content?
While we scribble away at text to flesh out our new ideas, our wonderful artist, Sandy, simultaneously begins Step 4, which is the daunting task of turning the abstract images in Cheryl's head into fun, real life designs. Don't ask me how she does it. It's a state secret.
Countless rounds of matching words with pictures and revising and editing and did I mention revising follow (let's call that Steps 5-10). But wait, there's more! What kind of paper do we want? (Step 11) Which colors from the deck? (Step 12) And, oh no, is there a proper display with pockets this size? (Step 13) If not, would it be exorbitant to make one? (Step 13.5) Decisions, decisions!
But fear not, because--miracle of miracles--all of this craziness does come together in the end. There it is: a proof. Beautiful! Unless...the color isn't quite right, and don't you think we should move that text around? (Steps 14-20: further revision!)
And that's just brainstorming in the office! There are still the logistics of shipping the displays, introducing the line to reps and retailers alike, making sure everything comes in on time, redesigning the layout of the catalog to accommodate new product, creating promotional mailings...shweew! I'm exhausted just thinking about it, and I know I've missed a few steps here and there.
I honestly don't think I'll ever shop the same way again. This knowledge has infiltrated the very core of my previously ignorant brain. For instance, I bought a pair of pants this last weekend, and as I looked at the hanger the sales person let me take, I decided that department store routing guides probably require manufacturers to preprice and hang such pants in a manner that best suits their existing fixtures, which makes it possible for me to keep the hanger, because it won't work with future shipments and storage space is at a premium...ahhh! So much work to get that pair of pants in my hands! And this is all local; don't even get me started on international shipments!
Okay, it's official: I'm rambling now. The main point (yes, I have one!) is that so much of the world functions without us ever having to think about it and, at the end of the day, that might be the best mark of a job well done. If a consumer can wander into a store, spot something she can't live without, and cart it away without ever once having to think about all the sweat and tears (and blood, as anyone who has manhandled a tape gun knows) that went into putting it there, then we've all done our jobs. Like a virtuoso guitar player or ballroom dancer, the hundreds of hours of effort never show. We make it look easy.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Think globally...you know the rest.
It's a blustery day here in lovely Anoka, MN. Thankfully, we are safely ensconced in our office, too firmly rooted to blow away, but we fear for our packages and the good people who carry them!
So, what's going on at Whirled Peas HQ? Gently Spoken recently joined the cause of the 3/50 Project, which has gotten me thinking about my spending habits. Isn't it worth it to support independent retailers, even if it mean spending a bit more?
Yesterday, I visited a certain big box store to pick up some random essentials and came armed with my own tote bag to carry them away in. Not only was the clerk baffled by my tote, he couldn't be bothered to put anything in it. Apparently, if you bring your bag, you pack your own purchases.
I can't help but compare this to my experience a few weeks ago at the local co-op. The staff was friendly and helpful and didn't seem inconvenienced by my desire to purchase their goods. I left thinking, "Wow, they're so nice. Why don't I go in there more?"
Well, why don't I? It's not out of the way, the prices are reasonable considering everything is organic, and the service is great. That's not to say that all independent retailers are an oasis of superb service, but they usually have to put more effort into making and keeping their customers, and that dedication shows.
The 3/50 Project encourages consumers to spend $50 each month in three independently owned businesses. I easily spent $50 in the big box yesterday and didn't come out very satisfied. Now, to be fair, I've had plenty of perfectly satisfactory experiences in large chains, but considering what a boon it can be to the local economy to spend more money at the independents, I have to be a little more deliberate about where I shop.
So, what's going on at Whirled Peas HQ? Gently Spoken recently joined the cause of the 3/50 Project, which has gotten me thinking about my spending habits. Isn't it worth it to support independent retailers, even if it mean spending a bit more?
Yesterday, I visited a certain big box store to pick up some random essentials and came armed with my own tote bag to carry them away in. Not only was the clerk baffled by my tote, he couldn't be bothered to put anything in it. Apparently, if you bring your bag, you pack your own purchases.
I can't help but compare this to my experience a few weeks ago at the local co-op. The staff was friendly and helpful and didn't seem inconvenienced by my desire to purchase their goods. I left thinking, "Wow, they're so nice. Why don't I go in there more?"
Well, why don't I? It's not out of the way, the prices are reasonable considering everything is organic, and the service is great. That's not to say that all independent retailers are an oasis of superb service, but they usually have to put more effort into making and keeping their customers, and that dedication shows.
The 3/50 Project encourages consumers to spend $50 each month in three independently owned businesses. I easily spent $50 in the big box yesterday and didn't come out very satisfied. Now, to be fair, I've had plenty of perfectly satisfactory experiences in large chains, but considering what a boon it can be to the local economy to spend more money at the independents, I have to be a little more deliberate about where I shop.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
We've been working on a brand new line of cards this month, and the more we write them, the more I wonder why I don't say these things to the people in my life. Am I embarrassed? Afraid they'll laugh? Maybe. They might...but so what? Isn't that better than never saying what I really feel for fear of reprisal?
So I'm starting right now. Look out, world!
So I'm starting right now. Look out, world!
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Greetings from Whirled Peas Headquarters!
It is my pleasure to inaugurate our Gently Spoken blog! We're on a mission to enter the information age (a little late, I know!). What better or more efficient way to connect with readers from all around the world than the Internet?
Life is blessedly busy here at Peas HQ. All morning long, Cheryl has been on the phone talking to customers about matters both business (how best to merchandise our books) and personal (how to overcome a heart break). We've decided she's our own personal in-house life coach. Which is something funny about Eat Your Peas: It isn't just a book series, though it's certainly a wonderful line of books. Eat Your Peas is a whole community full of people who care about making the world a better place, one healed heart at a time.
Every so often, someone will try to tell us that our message is outdated; apparently encouragement is just too "mushy," too sentimental for modern, ironic and disconnected consumers. Every so often, we start to worry they're right. But then someone will call or email to share their story, and we're reminded that sincerity never goes out of style.
A great example: a woman left a message on our machine over a week ago, and we still can't bear to erase it. She told us about sending our Eat Your Peas for Sons books to her child who is stationed in Iraq. Her son was "just ecstatic" about the book, and she wanted to "salute the carriers of the book and the author herself." What better incentive than that do we need to keep going?
There is a board in our office covered with letters and notes we've received from happy readers who remind us why we do this everyday. We're incredibly lucky to be an office that receives more kind words than angry ones (knock on wood!). If you're one of those happy readers, please share your story with us!
It is my pleasure to inaugurate our Gently Spoken blog! We're on a mission to enter the information age (a little late, I know!). What better or more efficient way to connect with readers from all around the world than the Internet?
Life is blessedly busy here at Peas HQ. All morning long, Cheryl has been on the phone talking to customers about matters both business (how best to merchandise our books) and personal (how to overcome a heart break). We've decided she's our own personal in-house life coach. Which is something funny about Eat Your Peas: It isn't just a book series, though it's certainly a wonderful line of books. Eat Your Peas is a whole community full of people who care about making the world a better place, one healed heart at a time.
Every so often, someone will try to tell us that our message is outdated; apparently encouragement is just too "mushy," too sentimental for modern, ironic and disconnected consumers. Every so often, we start to worry they're right. But then someone will call or email to share their story, and we're reminded that sincerity never goes out of style.
A great example: a woman left a message on our machine over a week ago, and we still can't bear to erase it. She told us about sending our Eat Your Peas for Sons books to her child who is stationed in Iraq. Her son was "just ecstatic" about the book, and she wanted to "salute the carriers of the book and the author herself." What better incentive than that do we need to keep going?
There is a board in our office covered with letters and notes we've received from happy readers who remind us why we do this everyday. We're incredibly lucky to be an office that receives more kind words than angry ones (knock on wood!). If you're one of those happy readers, please share your story with us!
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