Where We've Been: From Diamond in the Rust to Beeholden Farms

If you followed Diamond in the Rust, hello again, friend. It's been about four years since I closed the doors, and I've missed you more than I ever expected to.

For ten years, those little shops were my whole world. Home decor, gifts, candles, the perfect something for the person who has everything, and best of all, getting to know so many of you. You shopped with me through birthdays, housewarmings, weddings, and more Christmases than I can count.

It all started in our first little store over on Peralta. From there, we grew into three stores in Niles, and we remodeled every one of them ourselves. We put our heart and soul into those spaces, and I like to think you could feel it the moment you walked through the door.

Vintage truck photo by Lou & Joan Cuneo

From empty rooms to little shops

Every one of those shops started the same way: with a new key and an empty room. Some of you only ever saw the finished store, so I wanted to share a peek at what those spaces looked like when we first walked in.

This was one of our Niles stores on the day we got the keys. Mustard yellow walls, worn floors, and a ceiling that had definitely seen better days.

We pulled up old flooring, planked the ceilings board by board, and painted just about everything we could reach. There was a lot of sawdust.

And slowly, it turned into the shop you remember: white plank ceilings, chandeliers, and every corner filled with something pretty.

We painted a lot of furniture along the way, too. We even carried milk paint and hosted milk paint workshops.

Then we did it all over again. New walls, new floors, new displays, and the same family pitching in to make it happen.

And here's a little walk through another one of our shops, all filled up and ready for you.

Pop-ups, patio parties, and candles

And when we weren't in the shop, you could often find us under a white tent at street fairs and pop-ups around the Bay Area. We'd load up the trailer and build a little outdoor store from scratch in a few hours, filled with handmade signs, candles, and home decor. Some of my favorite conversations with you happened in those booths. My auntie, my mom, and my Dad Coop were right there with me at every single festival, without fail. Long days, very early mornings, heavy lifting, heat, rain, you name it. Aunt June, my sister, and my niece would often come out to help, too. So many of our friends and family showed up to support us.

Out back, we had a little patio strung with lights, and some of my favorite days happened out there. We hosted succulent parties where everyone potted up their own little garden to take home, and of course, there were always treats.

We even poured our own candles and reed diffusers under the name Savannah Rae Candle Co., named after my niece, made with American-grown soy wax and lead-free cotton wicks. At one point, an entire wall of the shop was candles.

The holidays

From the first cool days of fall right through Christmas, I'd keep a pot of homemade apple cider going in the shop. I still think about how it made the whole place smell, and how many of you would stop in just for a cup and a chat. (So many of you asked for that recipe over the years that I finally wrote it down: The Apple Cider Recipe Everyone Asked For.)

And oh, those holiday open houses. Every year it was the night I looked forward to most. The shop all dressed up for the season, warm cider in your hands, and the first peek at every new holiday treasure. So many of you made it a tradition, bringing your mom, your sister, or your best friend along. Those nights never felt like a sale to me. They felt like a party with people I loved.

Some years the line stretched down the sidewalk before we even opened the doors, and once you made it inside, it was shoulder to shoulder under the chandeliers.

One of my favorite memories from those years is Gracie. We rescued her from the streets of Niles, got her eye injury treated, and had her spayed. She was our shop cat for a short time, and her favorite spot was curled up under the Christmas tree. Before long, a very sweet young woman came in, fell for her, and gave her a home where she was loved so much.

And I never did any of it alone. My family was there for all of it.

My auntie and uncle unpacked pallet after pallet of merchandise. My auntie kept the back room organized and fluffed out every Christmas tree until it looked just right. My uncle broke down every box that came in. During the holidays he'd stand out front popping popcorn and handing it out to people walking by, and the rest of the year you could usually find him sitting on the yellow bench out front, chatting with whoever came by. And my Aunt June gave up her weekends to help work the shop during our busiest times.

My mom did so much. She drove over two hours, at least every other weekend, to come help work the store. She decorated, helped me reset the whole store more times than I can count, ran the register, and helped people find just the right gift. Customers loved her, and so many of them would stop in just to chat and visit with her. Having her there beside me, supporting all my crazy dreams through every bit of the hard work, meant the world to me.

My sister was right there helping customers find just the right thing, and my niece, who our Savannah Rae candles are named after, started pricing merchandise when she was six and learned to work the register right alongside us.

And every time we opened a new shop, my cousin Michael did all the vinyl lettering on the windows. He still does beautiful work through his business, SFS Bay Area.

I couldn't have done it without them.

And then there were all of you. You were the reason I loved unlocking the door every morning. You came back year after year, brought your friends and family along, and so many of you started out as customers and became friends. You made the long days easier and every day brighter, and you made every bit of it worth it.

Closing the shop was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made. But I never stopped loving the things that made it what it was: a cozy home, a thoughtful gift, and the people who walked through the door.

So what happened next?

For about three and a half years, I ran the gift shop at the Winchester Mystery House. I got to do more of everything I love: buying, developing best-selling merchandise, building displays, and helping people find something special to take home. Even after moving on, the thing I miss most is the people I got to work with, my gift shop team.

And then...

Bees. Honestly, I didn't see it coming either.

Steven had wanted bees for years, and he wanted me in on it. I went along expecting not to like it one bit. Then I opened my first hive and was hooked, and the more I learned about bees, the more I fell in love with beekeeping. We started with one small hive, and the bees outgrew it faster than we ever imagined. Now my weekends are spent checking hives and buying far too many pollinator plants. (Steven would tell you it's an addiction. He's not wrong.) If you've ever wondered what that's actually like day to day, I wrote about it in What It's Really Like to Host a Beehive in Your Backyard.

That's how Beeholden Farms was born. It's a small, family-run business where we make:

• Raw, small-batch honey from our own hives
• Lip balms and body care made with our own beeswax
• Hand-poured candles
• Cutting board butter and other little things for the home

Why change the page?

The Diamond in the Rust Facebook page has been quiet for a long time. Rather than start over somewhere new, I wanted to bring it home. You were here first, and I'd love for you to come along on this next chapter with me.

You'll still find everything you loved about the shop: home decor ideas, gift guides, candles, and a little bit of everyday beauty. Now there will just be some honey and bees mixed in, too.

Going through all of these old photos to write this brought back so many memories, some I hadn't thought about in years. It's been such a sweet trip down memory lane, and I hope it was for you, too.

Thank you for sticking around all these years. It means more than you know. Pull up a chair. The kettle's on.

With love,
Misty

Keep reading: Bring a little of the old shop home this season with The Apple Cider Recipe Everyone Asked For.