I think it’s only right that my first “experiments” post be about the design and building of the roadside produce cart (fondly referred to as The Cart from here on in).
I’ve known that I needed to come up with a way to share my extra produce when last year I couldn’t access anything in my fridge because bags of spinach, kale, and mustard greens were crammed in every corner. “We’ll eat it”, I told Eric. He looked at me, shaking his head. I promptly messaged friends asking if they wanted some leafy greens.
And it’s not just the leafy greens, the peas filled up all the drawers, and that was after I was able to give some away. The baskets and boxes of apple pears and apples were stacked in the garage and the back deck. We’ll eat it”, I told Eric.
So, the cart was born out of a necessity. I needed to stop cooking and processing all the extras and Eric needed me to stop trying to cram an imprudent amount of fruit and veggies in to every meal.
The first phase was the “I’ll over-think this for the next 4 months” phase. I thought about stacking veggies on it, moving it, storing it. I wondered where would I put the bags for people, how would they pay, what if it rained. I thought about it when I couldn’t sleep at night and I designed and redesigned it in my head at least 100 times.
The next phase was the “just do something” phase. We cleared out a spot in the garage, that way the empty space in the garage would remind me of the mission every time I needed to get something from the garage. Which is like 10 times a day it feels like. Then I started emailing people who I knew were great builders.
CRAP! What if they emailed back and I didn’t have a design yet. So after a (few) glasses of wine, I sketched up the design you see here.
Not so bad for late at night, in the dark, after a bottle of wine (did I say bottle? I meant a glass or two).
Notice something? Like for some reason I thought I needed a cart that was 5 FEET LONG!!! With flip up shelves that would give me an extra 6 feet! In my head, this worked great. What I was visualizing was a cart about 3 feet long and 2 feet deep, with flip up shelves that made the cart about 7 feet. But that’s not what I drew. More on that later.
At this point, I was ready to get my cart built. I was excited. “Let’s change the world with veggies!” I proclaimed. And so we entered the third phase, the “I’ve started something therefore it should be finished” phase.
My usual contractors weren’t available. I asked around, no one had anyone they would recommend. I searched for local companies, no luck. Then I thought, what about odd jobs on facebook?! Maybe someone on there will build it. The first person interested started off by telling me that my design wasn’t what they had in mind at all and that they would be willing to sketch me up their idea and build it for me. “Thanks for reminder that I don’t enjoy being patronized… get stuffed”.
The second person worked out (ish). And over the next month, they built me my cart. It wasn’t all smooth sailing; partly him, partly me.
For starters, remember I mentioned that what I pictured in my head was a 3 foot cart but what I sketched was a 5 foot cart? Well, he built me a 5 foot cart. I came out at the end of the day to see how it was going and I saw this monster.
It’s hard to fully grasp just how giant that is without some thing/one to give it perspective. But trust me. It’s big. Also, counter height. Without wheels. He forgot that he still had to install the 7.25 inch wheels on the bottom and so built it to counter height. I panicked. Nope, nope nope.
I realized I had to live with the dimensions of it, that was my mistake. But I could still make some minor adjustments to the design with the parts he still had to build that would help reduce it’s overpowering size. But the cart counter being 4.5 feet high once the wheels were installed, that I couldn’t live with. Seeing as that was his mistake, I asked him fix it. Which he did, without complaint. So that was good.
Also, I guess I forgot to tell him to not cut the wood in our garage. I didn’t think I needed to tell him that, seems like common sense to me, but apparently it’s not. So now the entire garage (and everything in it) was covered in a not so light layer of sawdust.
For the next 2 weeks I stressed out about how was I possibly going to clean out this garage once he was finished, all while stressing out about getting him to finish.
But he did finish (almost). It’s cute and good enough. I help myself get over my design mistakes and his, hmmm, nonchalant building style by telling myself that it’s a prototype. Something to “experiment” with in my first year of roadside produce selling.
And we did end up cleaning the garage. Eric helped me. We gutted the entire thing, cleaned it top to bottom, and then put everything back, wiping it all down as we went. It took the two of us 7 hours to do. It was great bonding time for us. We had beer.
And Eric ended up finishing the cart for me; by putting in the rest of the bolts needed to hold the wheels in place (the guy who built the cart put in one bolt per wheel and the wheels very quickly started falling off).
And that is the end of one adventure (The Great Building of the Cart: a story of a perfectionists struggle), and the beginning of my next one (The Fantastic Produce and the Girl that Sells them).
Oh, except one more thing. One day I will paint the plywood parts. White, and blue, and pink, and orange and all the colours of happiness all in one little cart. But for now, I’m loving it just like it is.
“Each day try to become a little less perfect and a little more brave” (John Cena).
Until the next adventure,
Arwen
