Myra Jenkins, who makes candles and soaps for local fairs and farm shops, dropped by this morning with an idea that needed talking through.

She sat at my kitchen table and drank tea while I dipped my own batch of beeswax candles. As always, she was full of suggestions for scents and colours to infuse into them. I half listened, making mental notes on anything that might be worth an experiment, and continued on my own path. Some of my candles are for enjoyment and decoration. This morning’s batch had a more specific purpose and needed equally specific preparation.

As the last of the candles were hung to harden before their next layer, and I put a lid on my crock pot of melted wax, Myra said. “I’ve been thinking about going online.”

“In what sense?”

“Selling things. My Stacey says you can do ever so well on these online marketplaces and never have to leave home.”

“Other than to post the orders once you’ve packed them.”

“Well, I was thinking about that, and I think we should form a collective.”

I wasn’t quite sure how packing and collectives connected, but I was doubtless about to find out.

She continued. “If we get a few of us together who make craft things that people like and put up an online shop, then maybe we could get some of the younger people to help. I’m sure that nice Jason at the Manor would be happy to help with the website thingy and then maybe we could get young Sarah and her friends to pack things for us. Pay them some pocket money and give them something to do on the weekend.”

Sarah and her junior coven already had plenty to do on the weekend, and I doubted they’d find whatever Myra considered a good payment for ‘pocket money’ terribly enticing. And Jason Bandswich might be a tech wizard, but I doubted he’d ever set up a marketplace stall for handicrafts, online or otherwise. His skills tended towards madly complicated AI-ish things that sounded like double ancient Greek to me.

Still, I don’t like to rush when forming my opinions, and I’ll take even more time before offering them. So, I asked. “Who else were you thinking of for the crafting side of this collective?”

“Well, you and me, obviously, although we might have to each choose one thing to focus on. If we’re both selling candles, it might be confusing, so I was thinking I’d focus on my soaps.”

That was generous of her, and completely unnecessary. “Your candles are far more saleable than mine. I just do them because I have the beeswax and they’re nice to have in the house.”

Myra looked both gratified and worried. “Well, I would like to do both, but if you’re not doing your candles, what would you sell?”

It was rather sweet, her being so set on having me as part of the collective. Although it was probably so she could get me to wrangle Jason and the junior coven into their allotted roles.

I thought for a minute. “I could do some knitting. Just little things like wrist warmers, and wash cloths.”

“Or your balms and creams. Natural skincare is all the go these days.”

“We could try, but they’re likely to be a fiddle to pack safely, and expensive to send.” I let that sit for a moment, I wanted to see if she realised her candles were likely to be even more of a fiddle on the packaging front.

Myra frowned, then pulled out her phone and made a note. “Packaging.”

Looking at me again, she went back to my question. “Jill Tinesworth makes jewellery, really nice pieces out of resin, and proper silver, and bits of sea glass her son brings up from the coast. And Matthew Jones has been experimenting with smaller carpentry projects, now he’s retired. Whittled spoons for stirring the porridge, and honey dippers, and he knows how to make them properly food safe too.”

That was a good start, even with her unrealistic expectations around website building and postage logistics. It was a good thing I knew someone who could help on that front.

I grabbed my phone. “Let me give Simon Mason a quick call. He built his company from scratch, and ships things all over the place. I’m sure he’ll have some helpful advice.”

“Oh, I couldn’t bother Lord Mason with my silly hobby.”

I grinned. “You’re not bothering him, I am, and I don’t think it’s silly at all. And I also think this is just the sort of project he’d enjoy.”

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