Small Decisions
I’ve been thinking about how hard it is to recognize the moments that end up changing your life. We assume those moments will feel significant, but most of them don’t. They usually look like ordinary days, conversations, or decisions that don’t seem important at the time.
Seven years ago, for Aubrey’s birthday, I surprised her with a trip to Charleston. Neither of us had ever been. We spent our first day walking around the city, and what stood out wasn’t just the architecture or the food. It was how established everything felt. There was a clear sense of history and identity.
The next morning, we walked into a commercial real estate office and met LeGrand. He grew up in Charleston and offered to spend the day showing us around. He drove us through Sullivan’s Island, Mount Pleasant, North Charleston, and other areas, sharing stories about the city and how it had changed over time. It was an incredibly generous thing to do for two people he had just met.
At the time, Perenn was one 800-square-foot bakery in Midtown Reno. We had already decided to wind down our catering business after five years of weddings, we had two young daughters, and moving across the country felt possible. We spent a lot of that trip talking about whether Charleston could be a place we’d move to.
Looking back, that conversation mattered more than we realized.
About a week after we got home, we got a call from a catering company in Sonoma asking if we’d come consult. We said yes, packed up, and moved. We would split our time in Reno and Sonoma. Shortly after, COVID shut everything down.
What seemed like a short-term decision ended up giving us stability during a very uncertain time.
I’ve thought about what would have happened if we had chosen Charleston instead. There’s no way to know, and it’s not that useful to speculate.
What stands out is how little information we had when we made those decisions. Saying yes to Sonoma didn’t feel like it would shape the next several years. It just felt like the next step.
This week we went back to Charleston for the first time since that trip. We met LeGrand for coffee, and it felt easy to pick up where we left off. Some relationships don’t require constant contact.
We revisited a few places and found some new ones. We spent an afternoon at Sullivan’s Island. Ate peel-and-eat shrimp out of plastic bag on the pier of Crosby’s Fish & Shrimp Co. It was simple and memorable.
We also stopped by Himalaya to see the Land Rovers they’re restoring. The level of detail in their work was impressive. Dinner at Chubby Fish lived up to expectations. Hint: eat on the covered patio outside so you can enjoy drinks from their bar next door. Highlights was the tuna toast and char-broiled oysters.
We spent time in a number of antique stores, looking for furniture for our grocery in Nashville. On our last day, we went into Tucker Payne Antiques on King Street and found an old pub table that we’ll use as a produce table. It’s a good fit for what we’re building.
Comparing this trip to the first one, something else stood out. When we first visited Charleston, we had no idea we’d end up in Franklin, Tennessee. We couldn’t have predicted the locations we’d open, the people we’d meet, or what the business would become.
That’s how it usually works.
Our lives aren’t shaped by one big decision. They’re shaped by a series of smaller ones that add up over time. A trip. A conversation. A phone call. An opportunity that wasn’t planned. A relationship that continues over years.
Most of those moments don’t feel important when they happen. You only see their impact later.
Some don’t lead anywhere. Others matter more than you expect.
You don’t know which decisions will matter.
No one does.
The future is built gradually, through small choices made over time.
-T
