Taking over the legacy of Nelly's Baked Goods

When people find out I own Nelly's Baked Goods, their eyes light up like I'm living some kind of fairy tale. "Oh, how wonderful!" they say. "You get to bake all day and smell fresh bread!"

I usually just smile and nod. Because how do you explain that heaven comes with a 4 AM alarm clock, flour under your fingernails that never quite comes clean, and the very real fear that you miscalculated yesterday's bread order?

Don't get me wrong. I love this place. This bakery has been more my home than my actual house for most of my life. When Aunt Gemma offered to sell it to me, it felt like coming full circle. But nobody talks about the weight of legacy when you're elbow-deep in debt and trying to figure out why your profit margins don't match your projections.

The first week, I thought I had it all figured out. I'd worked in a bakery in Fort McMurray for years. How different could it be? Turns out, knowing how to bake and knowing how to run a business are two entirely different skills. That bakery up north had actual systems. Here, Aunt Gemma's "system" was pages of recipes stained from steady use and the phrase "make enough" when I asked about quantities.

The first time I had to put bread on half-price because I'd miscalculated, Gary just shrugged like it happened all the time. But when it's your money on the line, every unsold loaf feels personal.

Then there are the people. Gary, who's been decorating cakes here since before I was born, suddenly treats me like an intruder. Paige, the teenager who helps with the front counter, gives me the cold shoulder like I've personally ruined her day just by existing.

The hardest part isn't the early mornings or the financial pressure. It's the doubt that creeps in during the quiet moments. Am I doing the right thing? Did I make a mistake coming back to Kittering Creek?

But then a regular customer tells me the banana bread reminds them of their grandmother's recipe. Or I watch a little girl press her nose against the display case, eyes wide at the decorated cupcakes. Or I feel that familiar satisfaction when the mixer whirs to life and butter and sugar blend into something that will become someone's morning comfort.

This morning, while measuring flour for the day's bread, I thought about my great-great-grandfather Thijs, who started this place when he immigrated to Kittering Creek. He probably didn't know what he was doing either. He just had flour and determination and the belief that good food brings people together.

Maybe that's enough. Maybe the rest are skills I can learn as I go.

I'm not saying it's easy. But I'm still here. Still getting up at 4 AM. Still finding small moments of joy in the work. Still believing that this little bakery has something valuable to offer.

Some dreams just look different than you expected. That doesn't make them wrong.

Anara owns and operates Nelly's Baked Goods in Kittering Creek, following in the footsteps of three generations of family bakers.

Read more about Anara's journey in her story, The Rancher's Heart. Click on the cover below to purchase it: