The past few months have been a haze, and the recovery of my husband has been mirrored by the new emerging plants in the garden, leaves grown from seed; the tender fuzzy lavender and mint and the newcomers from the garden centre, all proud and strong. Each day has been littered with questions about what I should do with my life, what comes next and where am I going? The desire for independence was inside me firing and pushing me forward to search for a new dream, and I think I found it. It was hidden, masked by my own cowardice.
I decided not to pursue e-publishing. A business plan showed me clearly that the publishing sector was on its death bed, even the big players were dying. Who is making money writing? (I mean writing not blogging.) What are people reading? (Blogs or Articles?) When the networks go down, and the power stations die, who will find our emails and our digital footprints? No. This publishing dream will only cause me pain, and until the sector discovers how to look after writers and the meaning of their work, I will not take it on alone, the challenge is too big.
The next step was to look at my other dream, running a bistro.
The sector is a buzzing zoo! And in the past few months we looked at coffee shops for sale, and met charming chancers. Tired couples seeking a fat nest egg for their retirement, individuals burned out from poor health. Many had watched their dream turn into a nightmare because even if successful, with no backdoor, no exit, it turned sour. Everyone wants to leave the party in the end, even if it is just to sleep or see the sun rise.
The bistro was a good idea, until the penny dropped that
it would be forever. "Cafe Keya, Welcome."
But once you enter you can never leave. (A trap!)
Not yet. Not yet.
But people need to eat.
They need to drink.
Those cooking programmes are a lie, they are voyeuristic, people don't enjoy cooking, not every day. There is money to be made. How can I get a slice of it?
The last turn in my journey brought me to the mobile caterers. They are the foodie fringe of the catering world, filled with part-timers, smelly burger vans, business scams and summer ice-cream vans. Is there any way I can fit into this market?
And so I come to the end of this chapter, otherwise known as the Beginning, the pre-start phase as it is known in the business world. I found the seed. I made it grow.
Gently and with love and faith. I kept it a secret.
It has been raining for weeks, and I suppose in a way, it's been raining for months. Until now.
Because now I see a rainbow.
I'll tell you about it later.
I decided not to pursue e-publishing. A business plan showed me clearly that the publishing sector was on its death bed, even the big players were dying. Who is making money writing? (I mean writing not blogging.) What are people reading? (Blogs or Articles?) When the networks go down, and the power stations die, who will find our emails and our digital footprints? No. This publishing dream will only cause me pain, and until the sector discovers how to look after writers and the meaning of their work, I will not take it on alone, the challenge is too big.
The next step was to look at my other dream, running a bistro.
The sector is a buzzing zoo! And in the past few months we looked at coffee shops for sale, and met charming chancers. Tired couples seeking a fat nest egg for their retirement, individuals burned out from poor health. Many had watched their dream turn into a nightmare because even if successful, with no backdoor, no exit, it turned sour. Everyone wants to leave the party in the end, even if it is just to sleep or see the sun rise.
The bistro was a good idea, until the penny dropped that
it would be forever. "Cafe Keya, Welcome."
But once you enter you can never leave. (A trap!)
Not yet. Not yet.
But people need to eat.
They need to drink.
Those cooking programmes are a lie, they are voyeuristic, people don't enjoy cooking, not every day. There is money to be made. How can I get a slice of it?
The last turn in my journey brought me to the mobile caterers. They are the foodie fringe of the catering world, filled with part-timers, smelly burger vans, business scams and summer ice-cream vans. Is there any way I can fit into this market?
And so I come to the end of this chapter, otherwise known as the Beginning, the pre-start phase as it is known in the business world. I found the seed. I made it grow.
Gently and with love and faith. I kept it a secret.
It has been raining for weeks, and I suppose in a way, it's been raining for months. Until now.
Because now I see a rainbow.
I'll tell you about it later.
