You know when you get so uptight about something that you lose your perspective on the bigger picture? This happened yesterday when I went to pick up the sign for Clara's Window. It was supposed to be ready, and I've been counting on it all week. It's rather... um... hard to run a shop when you have no sign. Nobody knows you're there.
Well, it turns out there was a mistake and the sign won't be ready until next Tuesday. Because of a forced trip to New Jersey next weekend, I won't be able to put up my store sign until Friday June 27th. The summer tourist season here goes from June to August, so I'm effectively missing one-third of my potential audience because some inattentive person screwed up on my sign. Thanks a lot.
Instead of being a mature professional and demanding, say, a partial refund or weekend delivery of the sign, I found myself becoming hysterical and weepy. Obviously this isn't the best way to behave. So I left and bought soap at the Pier 1 across the street. Retail therapy strikes again.
Then there's the issue of schooners and their wacko schedules. They seem to enjoy stopping in town at 8pm, long after I've closed. They bring their passengers ashore at 8am the next morning, whisking everyone back on the boat and out of town by 10am, which is when I open.
Because my entire town has a population of 910 people, these extra visitors make a significant dent in things. I've contacted all the schooner captains, which will help. But meanwhile I'm facing the question of whether or not I change my hours on the off-chance that a schooner will come to town (their schedules are notoriously vague) and that the passengers will actually want anything in my shop. The balance between smart business and pitiful desperation is tricky.
I talked with the owner of my coffee shop about this today. He has managed to create a cafe to beat all cafes, with the best brewed coffees and espresso drinks in all of Maine (not that this is a remarkable boast, mind you, but still). "You just have to trust your gut," he said. "If we did everything that other people wanted us to do, we wouldn't be where we are today. Do what your instinct tells you. Once you let go of trying to please everybody, it gets a lot easier."
I suppose that's a lesson for life, period, whether you're a retailer or teacher or computer programmer or anything else. And it's what I shall be working on myself over the next few months.
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
Thursday, June 5, 2003
It's been a slow day here at Clara's Window International Inc., which was probably good since it was newsletter publishing day. Still, I took out the handy dandy camera and took a few more shots to give you the feeling of being here with me. Here they are...
My front window, from the outside.

And when you walk in, this is what you see.
My "cash/wrap" area (boy do I love this retail lingo) is tucked along the far right wall, invisible to the human eye until you've safely entered my lair. I didn't do this to be evil, I did it so I could see the harbor from my desk... er.. cash wrap. It's a long raised table with an electric tea kettle and teensy weensy fridge hidden underneath for those constant tea breaks I seem to be having.
The biggest excitement was the arrival of the Jennifer Pudney needlepoint kits yesterday. Here's a close-up of the display. (Hey humor me, I love these things...)
It's a thrill a minute, I tell you! And next week I'll finally get my sign, which is usually a good thing to have if you're a retail establishment. Yes, I promise to post pics as soon as the sign is up.

My front window, from the outside.


And when you walk in, this is what you see.
My "cash/wrap" area (boy do I love this retail lingo) is tucked along the far right wall, invisible to the human eye until you've safely entered my lair. I didn't do this to be evil, I did it so I could see the harbor from my desk... er.. cash wrap. It's a long raised table with an electric tea kettle and teensy weensy fridge hidden underneath for those constant tea breaks I seem to be having.
The biggest excitement was the arrival of the Jennifer Pudney needlepoint kits yesterday. Here's a close-up of the display. (Hey humor me, I love these things...)

It's a thrill a minute, I tell you! And next week I'll finally get my sign, which is usually a good thing to have if you're a retail establishment. Yes, I promise to post pics as soon as the sign is up.
Sunday, June 1, 2003
Clara's Window is open for business! | |
![]() | |
It's hard to believe we went from this... | ![]() |
...to this in only 20 days. Now you know why I haven't posted here in a while! | ![]() |
I officially opened my doors today despite the lack of an outdoor sign and about a third of my ultimate inventory. It was grey and rainy, but several kind and loyal folks came by to check out the new place in town and otherwise show their support. I'm thoroughly exhausted but exhilarated to have met this initial milestone. I'll be bringing the laptop with me tomorrow, and if time permits I promise to post more. |
Wednesday, May 7, 2003
Store update: I now have functioning phone lines, freshly painted creamy yellow walls and darker yellow trim, and an electrician with marching orders to install track lights.
I've ordered pre-printed receipt books and snazzy little track light fixtures, empty bottles for essential oils and flower waters, and empty tins for my very own "Maine Morning Tea." I have a big box of lavender due from Provence any day now. Boxes and boxes of French soaps, bubble baths, sachets, and smellies also due to arrive any day. I have frames for my prints and my '30s Home Arts magazine covers. I finished the design for T-shirts and have an order in for 220 of them in various colors and sizes.
And yesterday I settled on the final missing link: Jennifer Pudney embroidery kits.
Now I just need a sign and shelves and I'll be in business!
Whew, what a lot of work. As usual, I owe a debt of gratitude to Julie for venturing out with me last week to shop for store furniture and fixtures. Again and again, she talked me out of some pretty hideous mistakes. "Um, Clara," she'd say in response to my holding up a big box of fuchsia-colored tropical patio lights, "Why don't we wait on those?"
In the meantime, last week Mr. UPS was delivering a whole bunch of boxes -- boxes of tissue paper, boxes of paper bags, and even boxes of boxes, which seems rather funny. Anyway, I thought I'd brought them all in, but then he pulled out another box for me. Printed on the outside: ASHFORD.
Surprise! As an early birthday present, my mother sent me an Ashford Joy. What indulgence, what decadence, what pure delight to have a second wheel dropped down from the sky. I've been coveting this adorable little gal for years now but couldn't possibly justify a second wheel, especially since my first is a Schacht. Needless to say, when not scraping and painting every possible surface in the shop, I had great fun with this new wheel all weekend.
Next on the list: getting a sign made. At this point I'll be in a better position to take pictures and post 'em here for your viewing pleasure.
I've ordered pre-printed receipt books and snazzy little track light fixtures, empty bottles for essential oils and flower waters, and empty tins for my very own "Maine Morning Tea." I have a big box of lavender due from Provence any day now. Boxes and boxes of French soaps, bubble baths, sachets, and smellies also due to arrive any day. I have frames for my prints and my '30s Home Arts magazine covers. I finished the design for T-shirts and have an order in for 220 of them in various colors and sizes.
And yesterday I settled on the final missing link: Jennifer Pudney embroidery kits.
Now I just need a sign and shelves and I'll be in business!
Whew, what a lot of work. As usual, I owe a debt of gratitude to Julie for venturing out with me last week to shop for store furniture and fixtures. Again and again, she talked me out of some pretty hideous mistakes. "Um, Clara," she'd say in response to my holding up a big box of fuchsia-colored tropical patio lights, "Why don't we wait on those?"
In the meantime, last week Mr. UPS was delivering a whole bunch of boxes -- boxes of tissue paper, boxes of paper bags, and even boxes of boxes, which seems rather funny. Anyway, I thought I'd brought them all in, but then he pulled out another box for me. Printed on the outside: ASHFORD.
Surprise! As an early birthday present, my mother sent me an Ashford Joy. What indulgence, what decadence, what pure delight to have a second wheel dropped down from the sky. I've been coveting this adorable little gal for years now but couldn't possibly justify a second wheel, especially since my first is a Schacht. Needless to say, when not scraping and painting every possible surface in the shop, I had great fun with this new wheel all weekend.
Next on the list: getting a sign made. At this point I'll be in a better position to take pictures and post 'em here for your viewing pleasure.
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