A Solid Stock

By Nancylee Bouscher

We all have constants in our lives – things we can count on. Some delightful, some horrid and many more that are somewhere in between those two extremes. Let’s call that Life Soup. Even though I may know some about your soup – the stock of it – you have secret ingredients, and so do I. The best part of life though is how we all gather up at this big long wooden table in the kitchen existence and we get to discover the shared ingredients. Sometimes it’s fun and quirky, like “Wow! I didn’t know you were born in Torrance too!” and other times it’s bittersweet – knowing there’s another bright soul who shared a dark shadow that left its cool mark on both our hearts.

My family dining table is the same one I grew up eating on in Torrance, as a matter of fact. And the chairs are the same ones, too. They could all use a new finish after years of plants and projects, meals and mail, but it’s got solid legs. Four of ‘em! Chances are you have a similar table. It might be straight from IKEA or scored at a garage sale, but it’s got four legs that hold up your Life Soup. The Co-op’s table is old and sturdy too, with so much foundation holding us up.

The actual foundation of our store is mythical to me. From the “Knights of Pythius 1925” on the side of the north end of the building to the graffiti we paint over on the restroom walls, these bricks create this cozy crazy place. When I first came into the Co-op as a college student, the main door was that tiny one where we receive orders now, and the store didn’t yet expand down First Street like it does now, stretching into what used to be JC Penney’s. October 6, 1985, already 12 years old, is when we landed in this spot, and forty years later we bought both buildings that you explore when you come to shop, eat, and visit. So many voices have bounced off these walls. Yours included. My office sits on the third floor, and I look down onto First Street, the bridge, and the tops of the trees along the Skagit River. Some days I glimpse a coworker walking from the parking lot toward work, catch a clumsy puppy struggling through the new concepts of leashes and sidewalks, or watch excited kids skipping toward Tri-Dee and some new artistic adventure. Like a bird perched in a nest, I watch this sweet little town live its life around and in this crunchy food co-op.

I’ll never stop saying: we all come into this big old building for the food. And I know that you know it, but it bears repeating: we get food from farmers. Imagine the thousands of hands that have helped to plant, tend, and pick every ingredient, not just for your meals, but also in your medicine. In July, I got to live out a long-time dream by driving down to Williams, Oregon to meet some of the farmers of Herb Pharm. If you’ve ever strolled into Wellness you’ve seen the classic goldenrod yellow labels on all those one-ounce bottles of herbal liquid extracts waiting to welcome and overwhelm you in one fell swoop.

There’s so much to share about the visit there that it would take this whole edition of the newsletter.  The magic white spiraling spray of Black Cohosh in bloom – how what I smelled as sweetly euphoric floral can turn into something dank in another’s nose – the alien space ships of passionflowers hovering on their vines as bees land and dance in the pollen, and the kind people that care for these plants. If you have ever met an Herb Nerd (I really want to type “Herb Nerb” because look how cute that is), then you understand this basic fact about them: they’d pick plants over you any day. Herb Pharm is full of Herb Nerds, Matthew and Mark being the two main ones we met, digging up chunks of soil for us to smell or having us blindly test a tincture and then “wander around” to see what we could glean from it (my favorite way to meet an herb). I get so much comfort from meeting the people who grow the medicine we offer.

I wonder how many thousands of types of plants live in the bottles and tubes of Wellness? It’s an impossible trivia question to answer, but for sure, one family that dominates would be the mint family. Google says a lot about this family, and you probably have plenty of personal experience, too.  It’s in our tea and our toothpaste. There are so many more square-stemmed wonders, including lemon balm – she’s taking over my yard as I type – and another more subtle queen, Wood Betony. Plant her at your doorstep to offer protection, they say, or take a few drops when your head aches from being in the clouds. She is one of the many powers that make up Herb Pharm’s Daily Calming Spray, a secret super power to pocket for those moments when Life Soup gets too much. Or you can order her straight up, just might be your new favorite plant ally.

The place, the farmer, the plants, and you; those are the Co-op’s foundational table legs. But as the infamous caterpillar once asked Alice, “Who are youuuuu?” It’s true that cooperators sometimes get labeled with certain adjectives, but those of us who have worked here a while know that we are a varied bunch of folks. While you can always be sure to run into a few pairs of Birkenstocks, we’ve also got steeled-toe work boots crusty with the job site, neon runners with bouncy marshmallow soles, and the clickity-clack of high heels with pointy toes trekking over our sales floor. Every customer is part of our Soup, and we like having it be a wild mess of different flavors. More importantly, it is my hope – and I dare say, the hope of most every other Co-op employee – that every customer sees part of themselves in our staff and on our shelves. 

I want you to find a shampoo that works for your coils, and I want your neighbor to find something for her straight-as-a-board bob, too. Chances are it’s not the same shampoo.  I want you to find that secret ingredient your great grandmother used in her holiday recipes, no matter the holiday, and I want you to find the thing you cannot pronounce, have never tried, and aren’t even sure what to do with. What matters is that when you walk through those fancy double doors you feel seen and welcomed as part of our community. Because you are, wholeheartedly. Skagit County will continue to grow, and we all get to decide what thrives here by how we treat each other. We all get to build the table bigger and add more chairs. We get to slurp soup and share stories, knowing that people and plants make our lives so succulent. See, there’s a lot in your Life Soup that you didn’t chose to put in there, but every day you add some more of what you want until the ratio is just right. We all know that any flavor can be overcome with another, and that is one constant that will never change. Soup’s on, my friend!