Broken-hearted

"doo-Doo-DEE! The number you have reached has been disconnected."

I had to try. I didn't trust my eyes as I passed by the corner where the store had recently been. It was dark. There was brown paper over the windows and it caused a lump of fear and sadness in my throat - like a friend had quietly passed away. Just like a death, I felt guilty because the last time I passed by the shop, I had a trunk full of groceries and figured I'd stop by another time. Turns out there was no "another time."

I knew the owner of that shop - the only one located in my neck of the South Loop. Believe me when I tell you I did my best to be a one-woman wrecking crew back when I was actively knitting and acquiring yarn. I suppose it hurts to see her dream not last. She's an intelligent, positive person so I have no doubt she'll dust herself off and find some way to reinvent things to her liking.

Meanwhile, I get the feeling that many (predominantly) women who travel half the year from show to show or work feverishly in the basement, shop or studio to produce and sell competitively priced, high quality goods are suffering. Not because the goods are not worth it or that they're not in touch with market demands. Unless you're in the monied class or you have a rock solid job, the people I know are carefully assessing how each dollar is spent.

I'm curious if you've seen signs of struggle in this corner of the universe. What do you propose be done? Comment, talk among yourselves. I'm interested in your take on this.