I arrived in
Stratford like a bullet train, headed as fast as possible towards whatever the Festival
City had to offer. I explored each little shop and alley, and made mental notes
of the places I would go back to. Revel Caffe, with its shining beacon of motorcycle
coolness in the window, was a haven of fresh smells and tantalizing
conversation. It was in this wonderful place that I met Heather.
How happy I was to meet someone as determined, deliberate, dedicated,
and kind as she was, her arms and mind held open to people and their ideas.
I've never seen a sliver of malice or questioned her intentions. She seems to
only be motivated by good, common good. She explained that she had just returned
to Stratford after some time away and was having a meeting about urban
gardening that I should attend.
Riding on a wave of inspiration and lacking any other outlet, I
made promises of starting a backyard composting network, of being a garden manager,
and of starting a food co-op. A lack of enthusiasm for new projects has never
been my problem.
Life had other plans for me.
I knew nothing about business and nobody in town. I didn't have a backyard to
compost in and had been hearing stories about my friends own failed project, unlivable wages
and no time for anything else. I dropped my earthy projects and went to work in
an office.
The co-op spun ahead without me, though I lent a hand painting
chalkboards and scrubbing shelves. What had seemed to me an unreasonable
timeline had nearly been met and before I could say "big carrot" the
place was in business. Before my own eyes, the co-op had grown from an idea
into a shop whose business model was not based on the bottom line, but on
sustainability, accessibility, and accountability. Another piece of the puzzle
was in place.
I eat fresh and local every day. Between the co-op and the
markets, everything is available nearby. I don’t need a vehicle. I buy in
smaller amounts, waste less, and cook more. I have become increasingly connected
to a network of people who share the same values that I do.
The co-op is an oasis that I
go to when my eyes tire of backlit screens and fluorescent lighting. Their kind
staff humor me when I tell rambling stories, swear too much, or can’t decide
what to have for dinner. They always have the strangely coloured green spinach
wrap for my tofu-bean burrito, and never fail to put adequate amounts of cheese
and sour cream on it. Their meatballs are made from whey fed pork and are
cheaper than the Sysco lunch served down the street.
Supporting Your Local Market Co-op feels good: When Drea tells
me there will be strawberries on Saturday and I get there in time to pick up
the last pint; when I go to the Slow Food market and Loco Fields is
out of shelling peas but has just dropped some off at the Co-op; when I run into Rebecca dropping off her aprons and bags, I feel good. I feel good
knowing that I’m supporting local producers and building community, and I feel good when I eat fresh,
healthy, and sustainable food.
Thanks to all of you: Chris, Katelyn,
Heather, Drea, and all of the co-op’s employees and supporters. Together, we
are building something truly good.
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