The Barber Shop for Gardeners

When I was a little kid, sometimes in the summer I would go to the country to spend a week or so. At the end of that long drive (40 miles) to my grandparents, I was in for all sorts of fun and unusual activities. I learned how to separate cream from milk. I learned how to make butter from that cream. I helped turn the handle to wring the clothes dry, and then, once outside, handed each wet cloth ball to my grandmother to hang out on the clothesline. I picked tomatoes, dug potatoes, and cooled off in the evening watering the garden.
My grandmother and I walked to town to get groceries the old fashioned way. Once inside Bill Stengel's store, we would greet Mr Stengel, and anyone else my grandmother knew there, and then recite the store list, item by item, as Mr Stengel walked up and down behind the counter to retrieve each. Occasionally, he would even have to climb the rolling ladder to fetch something from a higher shelf. A healthy shopping day might yield two sacks of groceries, so I could help carry one home.
So far, this might all sound more like work than a summer vacation. But everything was so different, and my grandmother was such an engaging character, It was truly a "Tom Sawyer fence painting" experience which I loved.
But of all the things I might experience at my grandparents', my very favorite was  Tuesday morning. That was the day that my grandfather went to the barber shop. He went every Tuesday to meet many of the retired men in town, whether anyone actually needed a haircut or not. These were "Andy of Mayberry" days, when men congregated in the barber shop to chew the fat. When I was visiting on a Tuesday morning, he'd take me, too. Obviously it was benign conversation, since they allowed me to attend. Mostly they drank cokes in bottles from the vending machine in the corner, then bet nickels to see who would have the bottle made in the farthest bottling company. They talked; they told jokes; they enjoyed the camaraderie.
These are great, far away memories. But I've always said that when we get together, my plant buddies remind me very much of the fellows at the barber shop on Tuesday mornings. Even more, I wished that our little retail nursery could become a gathering place, like "the barber shop for gardeners".
 Today I had a hint of that vision right here. There were a few new folks here, as well as some seasoned veterans. Somehow, the group just casually mixed, exchanged ideas, gave their own opinions about this plant or that, bought plants, compared notes on gardening friends, and just generally enjoyed a long stretch of camaraderie.


We've always wanted to be known as having good, first hand knowledge of our plants that we can share to make our customers more successful. I think we've been pretty good at accomplishing that.
 But this experience- the group coming together - to explore the important and the insignificant of gardening on a beautiful spring day in the middle of my garden. That is a dream come true!

Now that we are at the end of our retail days, I can't imagine a better way to go out.

" Lots of luck to you and yours!" 
Oh, yeah, and "Goober says "Hey!"