I wear my feelings quite clear on my face. A disappointment is sure to reveal itself between the brows, in troubled eyes, in the lack of a pure smile, in hesitant responses to “how’s it going?”

I look back over the past year and wish only that I had written more. Small paragraphs containing the revelations of lessons hard-learned and joyous moments and exhausting solutions. In the past year Meg and I managed to:

Drive all around Central Texas in the heat of the summer with no AC searching with open minds and determined hearts to find the spot that beckons for some small solution to its lack of a local high-quality caffeine source; We found that spot in the charming inconspicuous neighborhood of Brushy Creek.

To convince a family, a  friend, or a fool to loan us the money needed for a truck or trailer worthy of our lattes and mochas, and pass the heath-department requirements for food service. We cleverly widdled our plan down and down and down, from a $40K venture to a measly $13.5 K loan that was borrowed from a friendly fool and used to purchase a tiny yellow trailer, leaving us with exactly 3 grand of start-up working capital.

Despite theses pennies which paid 3 months of rent and purchased equipment and fixed up the generator, we managed thus far to stay in business, and since February essentially have operated “in the black.”

After 6 months of very early mornings and an entire winter waited out in the cold cold trailer- the numbness of our toes drowned out by the drone of the generator- the weather is now turned to spring. As things surrounding us renew and abound in nature so to does our business begin to grow. The month of May has seen our daily sales increase by 30%, our regulars become ever more dedicated, the unfamiliar neighbors become less strange and more accustomed to our little place in the lot.

We survive challenge after challenge, from beating the daily boredom of waiting patiently within the walls that make up this 6 x 10 foot cafe-on-wheels, to the loss of our power source and the breakdown of our own personal vehicles.

I’m rambling. I know. It’s just that I see what we’ve overcome and what we’ve built so far with nothing put into advertising and our hearts thrown completely into our marketing, one person at a time. And then on a Monday when I’m particularly thrilled about our recent steady growth and the promising summer that sits right before us, they tell us to move.

One year down the drain.

I feel like I’ve been laid off, but with out a severance package and unable to blame it on a failing economy. Only able in fact, to blame it once again on our lack of experience, our failure to sign an agreement that may have helped prevent this.

I can’t tell anyone yet. On one hand the prospect of not driving to Round Rock everyday is a welcoming thought, but my four-day weekend which was so enticing 24-hours ago, is now just the beginning of yet another very long- and very desperate- unpaid vacation.

I know this isn’t the end, and maybe it’s the beginning of something better to which we shall enter with a bit more practice than we did last year. It’s just that I don’t feel that happy about it today.

So if you ask me “how’s it going,” today I will probably just say, “okay.”