My middle son has set up business as a baker. He sat outside our house this morning with twenty excellent muffins, which he had cooked himself, and sold them to the neighbours. I had hoped for a few passing school children and there were none but the comings and goings, and kindesses, of those who live around us soon cleared his stock. He thinks cookies might sell better, and a friend has offered her garden close to a local school as a pitch so we'll be trying again. He made three or four pounds profit, and still has plenty of ingredients towards next week. He'll need to repay the initial investment, plus a 10% return, and will need to buy more chocolate chips for the cookies, but should see some profit if he sells them all. His aim is to make £100 for kestrels, which we learned this summer are in decline across the country.
It was hard work and I was nervous for him, and grateful to the neighbours for helping him out, but it was good experience. He admitted that it was more work than he'd realised. I have set him the task of planning for next week and presenting me with an action plan: there will be no reminders. It has played havoc with my carefully planned timetable and sticking to a start time of 9:30am meant that nothing else got done this morning, hence the late post, but he is proud of himself and his achievement and I am proud of myself for stepping out of my routine and comfort zone and letting him begin to follow a dream.