We continued our talk on entrepreneurship. In answer to my question -- How can this person I know be successful doing that kind of thing? Ed answers, over breakfast...
...You can make anything out of anything. It's not just the thing you're doing, you know that.
So it doesn't matter if you hit on a brilliant idea? What you're saying is that the idea itself doesn't have to be brilliant?
It's not necessary and it's not enough. The stuff that I design? I have to pay equal attention to designing the process of putting it out there...
Of course, I know that in my life, I neither generated marketable ideas, not was I skilled at marketing the few sellable ideas that I did generate. I'm just not programmed that way. And those around me weren't that different. Not in Poland, during the pre-market epoch, not in academia during my adulthood.
You could say that I am a capitalism misfit.
(and there you have it: The Haircut)
But hey, never too late for anyone (especially an immigrant) to adjust to her surroundings!
We move on to a discussion of specifics. (This is what I'll return to here, on Ocean in a couple of months.) But not for long. I have a market date with my 29th week pregnant daughter.
Even though this is not Madison's last outdoor farmers market, it surely feels that it is slowly wrapping up. Though the stalls are brimming!
(biggest radishes ever!)
I had taken Rosie to my daughter's house and as we returned to her place after the market, it struck me that I have to take Rosie right back, because it would be so perfect to bring home mums for the farmhouse path. Imagine, $10 for a pot of these!
And I'm still not done shopping. My sack is filled with many pounds of carrots for carrot soup, fennel, oyster mushrooms, corn, spinach and now of course the mums, but I want to go to a bakery, to order some treats for next weekend and so I spin the old moped girl to Batch, our second most wonderful bakery -- this one, too, selling yummy breads, croissants, cakes and pies.
It is a challenge to ride Rosie now. The mums are in her rear basket, the produce is slung over my shoulder, the breads are dangling on her handle bars. But, she and I are a good team!
We follow rhe winds home.
And this isn't the end of it: the day is so gorgeous, so brilliantly sunny and unseasonably warm, that it's easy to coax Ed for a hike on the Ice Age Trail.
("you're leaving us again?!")
(cheeper rivalry: "do you think I'm as sweet as Scotch?")
The forest will make your jaw drop!
A quick stop at the chocolate store...
...then home. To the golden crab apple, against the bluest of blue skies.
...You can make anything out of anything. It's not just the thing you're doing, you know that.
So it doesn't matter if you hit on a brilliant idea? What you're saying is that the idea itself doesn't have to be brilliant?
It's not necessary and it's not enough. The stuff that I design? I have to pay equal attention to designing the process of putting it out there...
Of course, I know that in my life, I neither generated marketable ideas, not was I skilled at marketing the few sellable ideas that I did generate. I'm just not programmed that way. And those around me weren't that different. Not in Poland, during the pre-market epoch, not in academia during my adulthood.
You could say that I am a capitalism misfit.
(and there you have it: The Haircut)
But hey, never too late for anyone (especially an immigrant) to adjust to her surroundings!
We move on to a discussion of specifics. (This is what I'll return to here, on Ocean in a couple of months.) But not for long. I have a market date with my 29th week pregnant daughter.
Even though this is not Madison's last outdoor farmers market, it surely feels that it is slowly wrapping up. Though the stalls are brimming!
(biggest radishes ever!)
I had taken Rosie to my daughter's house and as we returned to her place after the market, it struck me that I have to take Rosie right back, because it would be so perfect to bring home mums for the farmhouse path. Imagine, $10 for a pot of these!
And I'm still not done shopping. My sack is filled with many pounds of carrots for carrot soup, fennel, oyster mushrooms, corn, spinach and now of course the mums, but I want to go to a bakery, to order some treats for next weekend and so I spin the old moped girl to Batch, our second most wonderful bakery -- this one, too, selling yummy breads, croissants, cakes and pies.
It is a challenge to ride Rosie now. The mums are in her rear basket, the produce is slung over my shoulder, the breads are dangling on her handle bars. But, she and I are a good team!
We follow rhe winds home.
And this isn't the end of it: the day is so gorgeous, so brilliantly sunny and unseasonably warm, that it's easy to coax Ed for a hike on the Ice Age Trail.
("you're leaving us again?!")
(cheeper rivalry: "do you think I'm as sweet as Scotch?")
The forest will make your jaw drop!
A quick stop at the chocolate store...
...then home. To the golden crab apple, against the bluest of blue skies.
