Tired of eating oatmeal for breakfast, I went out looking for a bakery this morning. After the snow had me cooped up since Thursday night, I wanted to get out and see the town of Brentwood, south of Nashville.
Brentwood is nestled in little Tennessee foothills. Beautiful new subdivisions are mixed in with older family homes with acreage. Wooden fences stood along the roads and the grass is still green, green green against the quickly melting snow. An old brick shopping center looked promising so I pulled in and sure enough, I saw Christy’s Bakery. Jackpot!
When I went inside, I found the most adorable bakery ever, clearly family owned and operated with pride, the result of someone’s dream child, careful planning, and hard work. An older, smiling lady came to the counter and greeted me. “Are you Christy?” I asked, curious.
“No,” she said. “I’m Debby. This is Christy-” and she pointed to a picture on top of the glass display. A young woman with long blonde hair. “She passed away two years ago.”
“Oh!” I said, shocked. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Did you know her?” Debby asked.
“Oh no, I’m not from the area,” I said.
“Then how did you know her name?”
“Your sign – it’s Christy’s Bakery,” I said.
“Actually, we’re The Flour Shop Bakery,” Debby said, and pointed to their business card.
I was totally confused. “Then… How DID I know about her name?”
Debby was laughing at me by this time. “I don’t know,” she said.
Still confused, I bought a fried apple pie and thanked Debby. From the parking lot, I looked back at the sign again. The sign for the bakery: BAKERY. The sign for the nail salon beside it: CHRISTY NAILS.
So, another proof I’m not the most detail-oriented person in the world…
At least the fried pie was good.
~ The Dauntless Princess ~