Mabel's is taking a leap
Today I find myself perched on the edge of something new and scary.
I’m standing on the edge of the diving board.
Ten feet above the water, which, as I write these words 50 some years later, doesn’t sound as dramatic or terrifying as it actually felt at nine years old. In real time. In real life.
My toes are curled tensely over the edge of the board, my body waiting for my brain to tell them what to do. Will they loosen their grip and allow my body to fall recklessly into the water so far below? Will my toes pivot 180 degrees and tip toe back from where they came, quietly making their way back down the ladder while all my friends giggle and whisper? Or will these toes actually commit, grab the edge of that hard, gritty springboard and push off with all their might into the water below?
If I could condense the last three years of my life into one simple analogy, it would be that of my eventual launch off the high dive at Athletic Pool in 1975.
I’ve spent the better part of the last three years dreaming of, hoping for, planning on a bistro to complete Mabel’s Market. A bistro that would highlight our favorite retail products, provide a “grown up” place for people to have a small plate and a glass of wine, meet friends before a Mondavi performance or enjoy a very happy hour after work.
We are, for the most part, ready to open. Two more inspections to complete. A little more training needed, cheese to order and staff to schedule.
We are oh, so close.
Just about as close as I was to hurling my body off that high dive in Billings, Montana several decades ago.
If it had been easy, my toes would have pushed off that diving board two years ago.
If it had been easy, it would have been a gorgeous and graceful dive and splashless entry into the water.
10.0, 10.0, 10.0.
But it has not been easy.
Every step up the ladder has been a challenge. Sometimes rewarding and fulfilling. And sometimes so difficult that it forced my feet two rungs back. Sometimes five rungs back.
I’ve lost a few friends, but gained a thousand new ones.
I’ve gotten completely lost in the most frustrating red tape that seemed impossible to cut through.
Every item of clothing in my closet has at least one spot of Courtyard Green paint on it.
I’ve been the recipient of the most amazing support and guidance from friends and family. And from every one of you who are reading this now. From every friend who has watched our progress and come back over and over again to encourage us. I don’t think we’d have kept going had it not been for your optimism and support. I know we wouldn’t have.
I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of money on shims and caulking and paint. And more shims.
So many shims. How do you create anything level when your entire foundation rivals that of Confusion Hill? When we actually open for business, we hope you’ll appreciate the Wabi-sabi that is Mabel’s. Beautiful in all its age and imperfection.
Pending approval of the City of Davis, we’ll open our bistro this summer. Pending approval of my heart and my brain and my toes, we’ll open sooner.
Today, I find myself uneasily perched on the edge of something new and scary.
Maybe wonderful.
Maybe disastrous.
Completely unknown.
And all these years later, it doesn’t feel so different from the Athletic Pool high dive.
My toes are curled over the edge. Everybody is watching and my heart is pounding. I can’t imagine what’s about to come. Will my heart stop beating between the time my toes leave the diving board and enter the water? Will I cannonball? Will I belly flop? Or will I do the most graceful reverse three-and-a-half somersault twist with a rip entry into the water?
Probably none of the above.
But for sure, I’m going to push off that board and my body is going to plunge into that water.
I’m so glad and beyond grateful that you’ll be there to see it.
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