Two Weeks to Market

Trusting What Has Already Been Built

There is a different kind of energy in my kitchen these days.

May 9 is no longer something in the distance.

It’s close.

Close enough that it’s starting to show up in very real ways.

The Signs That It’s Happening

Emails are coming in from the Town of Clarksville.

UPS has been making regular stops at my door.

Boxes filled with things I once only imagined needing.

Table decor.
Signs.
Menus.
Custom bags and labels.

Each delivery feels like a small confirmation.

This is happening.

Not someday.

Now.

The Shift I Had to Make

With all of this coming together, there was one thing I knew I had to do.

And it made me more nervous than I expected.

I had to talk to my regular customers.

The ones who have been with me from the beginning.

The ones who have supported me through every stage of this.

The ones who have shown up with patience, kindness, and more grace than I could have asked for while I’ve been finding my way.

Fridays have always been my busiest day.

Fresh bread.
Muffins.
Treats for the weekend.

It’s a rhythm we’ve built together.

But now, Fridays need to become something else.

My bake day for market.

Which meant I needed to ask them to shift.

To change something that has been working.

And for some reason, that sat heavy with me.

The Conversation I Almost Overthought

Yesterday, with a stomach full of nerves, I reached out.

I explained what was changing.

I braced myself for hesitation.

For disappointment.

For at least a little resistance.

But that’s not what happened.

Not even close.

Grace, Again

Every single person responded the same way.

Of course.
Absolutely.
Whatever you need.
We can switch days.

Some even added, “at least until October,” with a kind of excitement that reminded me they are part of this too.

And just like that, the worry I had been carrying dissolved.

What I Was Really Afraid Of

It made me stop and think.

Why was I so nervous?

These are not just customers.

They are people I have come to know.

People I check in with.
People who check in with me.

Deliveries have become more than a transaction.

They have become connection.

Conversation.
Care.
A moment in the week where something real is shared.

I wasn’t afraid of changing a delivery day.

I think I was afraid of disrupting something meaningful.

But what I was reminded of is this:

When something is built on genuine connection, it doesn’t break that easily.

It adapts.

More Than I Could Have Imagined

There is something else that has been unfolding.

Something I didn’t expect.

Friends and family reaching out.

Offering to come.

To travel.

To stand beside me at the market.

To help.

People willing to get on a plane and show up for this small table I am setting up in Tennessee.

That kind of love is hard to put into words.

It is humbling.

It is overwhelming.

And it is something I don’t take lightly.

What I Am Learning Right Now

This season is teaching me something I seem to keep learning in different ways.

You don’t build something alone.

Even when it looks like you are.

There are always people holding pieces of it with you.

Encouraging you.
Supporting you.
Making space for you to grow into something new.

What I’m Taking With Me

Two weeks from now, I will be standing at the market.

And I will not be standing there by myself.

I will carry with me:

The customers who said yes without hesitation.
The conversations that built trust over time.
The friends and family who are showing up in ways I never expected.

All of it.

So for now, I keep preparing.

I keep receiving.

And I keep reminding myself:

You don’t have to hold all of this alone.

Warmly,
Kathy
Art of The Crumb