05/20/2026
This, 100%
“Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
-The Velveteen Rabbit
This excerpt has been coming to mind lately as I notice the worn out bits of Skylark.
The drywall that’s dinged from hundreds of chairs hitting the wall, the rubbed corners and chipped paint, the plates that still get pulled to use when we run out 17 years later.
The clutter that won’t stop collecting despite my best efforts.
The doors that literally fall off their hinges from being opened so many times if I don’t remember to take my hammer and keep the pin nailed down.
The gardens that are always In an unfinished state of whatever I was in the middle of before it was time for dinner and bedtime.
Sometimes I feel intimidated, or jealous of new restaurants with fancy chefs and expensive decor and dishes before I soothe myself that the realness and authenticity is what makes us-us.
That there is no pressure to be anything other than what we are- unless I allow it.
These musings have intersected rather violently lately with the surge of AI and the glorification of everything fake.
It’s even seeping into promos from local businesses.
Glossy and fake advertisements.
AI slop generated to appeal to a customer- but who? Who wants to order computer generated food??
When I see these it makes me irrationally angry- but I’ve realized it has to be about more than some dumb graphics.
We’re reading about our land being taken for data centers, imminent domain taking homes of 20+ years so that we can supply data centers with power.
We’ve been gaslit for years that farmers are the problem in our environment and suddenly we’re supposed to close our eyes to the impending doom of scalping our land, ruining our skies, health and water and for what?
Please do not virtue signal about any sort of sustainable or community minded practices or processes if you’re using AI to generate ads for you.
Is this harsh? Probably.
But I am so mad.
I’m so mad for all the small businesses closing their doors because you literally cannot compete with Amazon.
I’m mad that the food costs are so high that if you want to pay your staff a fair wage and also serve quality food it means that the only corner I can cut is mine.
I’m mad that society is spiraling so fast into a nonsensical black hole that it feels like the only thing I can do is draw a line in the sand and say no, I’m not going to be a part of it.
I’m going to actively stand my ground in every small way I can even if it makes absolutely no difference.
I’m going to continue to pursue quality, slow food, community, flowers and events that build our relationships even if they never make a dime. Im going to take my shoes off and w**d the garden and put down my phone like my life depends on it, I’m going to sit down and eat real food for dinner with my kids and I guess I will actually die on this hill if it comes to that.
I’m optimistic that there’s enough of you out there to keep us going even when it feels like we are swimming upstream in a really gross current.
Please, I am begging you,
Create something real using your own slow brain and fingers.
I don’t care if it’s impractical how long it takes you.
I’m making menus and flyers in 15 minute increments before I literally can’t hold my eyes open.
My staff tells me about all my misspellings and grammatical errors and I re edit about a dozen times before we can print.
My pictures are unedited iPhone pictures that I run out and take before or during service using the light from the window and a table that’s been sat at by thousands of hungry guests.
I can’t draw to save my life so I pay my artistic friends to make cute stuff for me, and sometimes they do it for free because creative people love to create.
I was watering the flower beds at 10pm Saturday pondering how overwhelming it is for a person like me to never feel like we have it together or that we really just breezed through a shift.
There’s always problems.
So many problems.
For every problem I solve 4 or 5 more pop up.
Sometimes the things I hype myself up the most for are the biggest flops.
No matter how many great team members I have I’m still working so much that it hurts and never making enough money.
I’m getting too old for this.
But then I leaned into the thought that the only pressure or expectations I have are my own.
It’s only a hurry if I make it one.
I’ve only failed if I give up.
There’s never enough time in the day to do all the things I have to do and isn’t that actually a blessing?
And really at the end of the day to be something worn out and well loved and REAL in an increasingly fake world is probably the best thing I could hope for anyways.
