Toying with an idea

At the end of my street (or the middle, depending on your perspective) there's a cluster of shops that have been there pretty much since the neighbourhood was built.

Back in the day it was a thriving hub with a butcher, a baker, a barber, a book exchange, a convenience store, a chemist, a number of takeaway shops, a green grocer, a paper shop and a video lending library - and sundry other things I can't even remember.  For the past twenty or so years, however, most business have changed hands several times, some have gone away only for someone else to try (with varying degrees of success) to bring them back and others have disappeared entirely.

As a result, I can't remember the last time there wasn't an empty shop or two amongst the store fronts.

I often find myself wondering what I would sell if I owned a shop.  When I walk past empty shops, I frequently stop for a moment to think "What would I put in there?"

I've never worked in a shop in my life, let alone tried to manage one.  Whenever I speak to small business owners I get the distinct impression that they are tired, stressed out and slowly losing the will to live.

This is a world where, whatever it is you want to sell, someone somewhere is selling a cheaper, nastier version for a price you can't afford to match if you want to keep your head above water.  And we all go buy the cheap thing, no matter how much we want to support the local shops or encourage the creation of quality goods.

I know I'll probably never own a shop.  Quite frankly, I don't think I have the stamina.  But if I did...

I'd like to own a toyshop.

Oh, sure, I've often wanted to own a book shop, or a news agency.  These days you have to be both to survive.  But the shops I love the most are toyshops.

In a perfect world, if I could afford such shenanigans, I would have a shop that sold toys, puzzles, curiosities, books, cakes, confectionary and coffee - much like Reliquaire in Tasmania, only with less freaky dolls.  There's something really disturbing about walking into a room full of freaky dolls.  All those little frozen faces that all look like they're staring at something just over your shoulder...

But I digress.

People would walk into my shop and think "Wow, look at all this amazing stuff" and the presence of so much cool stuff would make them want to buy something so that they could feel part of the fun.  At the very least they would buy a jigsaw puzzle or a cup of coffee and a piece of cake.

But lately I've been experiencing another whim.  What if, rather than simply having a shop full of interesting and amazing toys, I had a shop full of toys that were hand-made?  By local craftspeople in the town?  Or maybe...

What if I made them myself?  Instead of just being a toy seller (already kind of cool), I could be a toymaker...

How's that for a job?  Making teddy bears, dolls, wooden trains, puzzles, rocking horses, figurines...

There are many reasons why this idea is just plain silly.  But that doesn't make it any less fun to dream about.

And a girl can dream, can't she?