Topéca Bakery will soon have a real brick and mortar (and we have walls full of bricks and mortar, just ask our contractor) place to stroll in from Cherry Street, have a cup of coffee and enjoy some delicious morsel that hopefully reminds you of grandma’s and childhood and first dates and goodness. This place is becoming real. One day I walked in and began my day like any other, only an hour later to hear part of a wall coming down. Surprise construction is fun, really. It initially felt like just one more thing added to a mountain of ridiculousness that one cup of coffee could ne’er prepare one to scale. But then, I mused, how often does it happen that we step aside from our to-do lists, our meetings and dinners, dog-walks and dates, long enough to look inwardly and suddenly realize that we are actually under construction? That somewhere in between the to and fro, little pieces have been chipped away. A wall that was up is suddenly down. Or the opposite, new walls have formed and we must trace the cracks and seams back through basements and beams to figure out why they were constructed in the first place. Some acts of internal demolition come with purpose, intensity, and (if you’re like me) lots of therapy, either psychological or the kind that is uncorked with a friend. These are the kinds of remodels we look forward to, that we embrace with the naivety of a first-time homeowner who sees wood floors and great ceilings and falls in love with a staircase only to be left heartbroken, in only the way a century-old home knows how to do. But sometimes, our hearts begin their own work. We go about our usual routine, until suddenly we hear something come crashing down, we pause to take a look, and we are being made into something new.