Early is OK

It’s quiet here in the early mornings. Gena is on holiday, and while she’s gone, I’m on morning baking duty.

Other than the “having to get up at 5am” part, it’s actually nice to be in so early and alone. It gives me a chance to see everything it really takes to get this place operational each day.

It is at once overwhelming, amazing and inspiring. Yesterday, for instance, by 7:30, while scones and cookies were baking in the oven. I took the chairs off the tops of the tables out front, brought in the paper, set the soup out, and checked the sugar, cream, and spoons at the self-serve coffee station.

By 8am, a wonderful team of volunteers, 5 to be exact, and Darcy (one of our AmeriCorps team) arrived on the scene. Each set about putting the rest of the Coffeehouse Bookstore together.

Two volunteers checked in a delivery and put everything away in its proper place. One set up the espresso machine, checked to make sure the shots were pulling correctly, and stocked the fridge with fresh milk and cream. Another put out the baked goods as they were ready, while yet another set up the back for dishwashing. And the other set up the cash register and started the prep work for our quesadillas and salads.

Within 30 minutes, everything was up and ready for business and the volunteer team was asking, “what can we do next?”

By mid morning, as customers were served, all of the baseboards and cabinet faces were scrubbed, the books in the front were straightened, storage shelves in the back were cleaned and organized, and new signs were designed, printed and put out to highlight various programs and opportunities.

It’s easy to miss all of this if you’re not here at 7am…this unfolding of the day.

It takes 250 volunteer hours each week to make all of this happen…to keep the Commons Coffeehouse Bookstore working in service with our community. And the fact that people are willing to come in for several hours a week, work hard, and have fun while they are doing it is testament to the mission of the Commons. We (that includes YOU, otherwise there is no WE!) strengthen our community by creating opportunities to gather, learn and grow.

While we do this, volunteers learn how to engage with people they might not know yet. They learn how to more seamlessly interact with people of all ages. They learn how to make great espresso and provide good customer service. And they learn what it takes to run a business.

What I’ve seen this week, by coming in to participate in the unfolding of the day, is that our volunteers not only make The Commons possible, but they also become better customers who understand the challenges of our local businesses, and they become more solid candidates for jobs with those local businesses. But until the time is right and those jobs become available, they are happy to be here, learning in concert with the people who support The Commons by purchasing espresso, scones, tea, salads and more.

Don’t quote me, but I think I’m going to miss this early morning shift.

Judy
Communications & Programs Coordinator
South Whidbey Commons

It's The Little Things

What is it about our American culture that puts such a value on "the big things?" You know, the newest car, the house with 4 bathrooms, the investment account that allows you to live more extravagantly after you retire than you did while you were working?

I don't have an answer for this question.

But I was just reminded that no matter what we put on our lifetime wish lists, for most of us "success" comes down to the surprising meaningfulness of "the little things."

This morning, I went out to the front to take some photos for our Facebook page, and was greeted by one of our newest volunteers - his genuine excitement about working here literally pushed his shoulders back and escaped through the biggest smile I've seen in a long time. It was the kind of smile that made me not only smile back, but stop and feel the shared happiness. Hours later, the corners of my mouth still turn up.

Not too long after that, I went to the counter to get a coffee, and was met by one of our gregarious adult volunteers who, without skipping a beat, said "Hey Toots!" Why that made me feel so good, I can't explain, but it did and both of us knew it.

Next, one of our regulars asked if he could hand me a donation envelope. "It's not much," he said. I tried sharing how important each and every contribution is to the Commons. And truly that is the case. His envelope will help us keep programs going just a little longer, and that's enough when you live in the moment.

The volunteer that just brought a sample of his famous roast beef recipe, the community partner that just sent us some grant funds we were hoping for, the person who shared that "it's not often you find the ideal concepts you think will strengthen a community actually put into action...but I felt it when I walked in this morning." It's these "little things" that have such great meaning here at The Commons.

This holiday season, we wish you the eyes to see such "little things" as they show up in your life. Come share the stories with us. The buzz is even better than the coffee!

Judy
Communications and Programs Coordinator
South Whidbey Commons

Tonight! Please Join Us!

Two, autobiographical one-acts featuring

Ed Cornachio and Shelley Hartle

on Friday, December 10.

Join Ed and Shelley (players from WICA’s On Golden Pond) for

a laugh-filled evening at the Commons Coffeehouse.

The two will be reading from their memoirs about growing up

in two different immigrant worlds on the East Coast, one Italian and one German.  Going Home runs approximately 90 minutes with one

10-minute intermission.

“Washington Slept Here,” is Hartle’s hymn to village life, with all the attendant problems of living in a fishbowl--where everyone knows everything about you and isn’t afraid to use it. 

From dodging the tactics of Benedictine nuns to deconstructing her first kiss, Hartle tells all in this joyride of a chronicle--a celebration of life, love, and retribution on the bumpy road toward adolescence.

“The Passing of Two-Sewer Charlie,” is Cornachio’s fond look at simpler times, days of tears and laughter growing up in a boisterous,

extended Italian family in the New York City of 1944. While all of America is fighting the Germans in Europe and the Japanese in the Pacific, Cornachio is fighting the onset of puberty on Bay 40th Street

in Brooklyn, N.Y.