My aunt and uncle had the perfect little roadside stand. It was as near picture perfect as a roadside produce stand can be. I thought it was quite a shame they would use what would have made a lovely playhouse for selling fruits and vegetables and occasional baked goods.
My cousins and I were instructed to stay out of it unless an adult accompanied us to it, so I only dreamed of playhouse possibilities from a distance.
We moved to Pennsylvania a year or so later, and my parents planted several acres of strawberries and sweetcorn to sell. Now it was out turn to be taking care of a roadside stand. Only we didn't have a nice little building for it. Instead we used a folding table and put it under our big chestnut tree in the front yard to display any extra produce we had to sell.
Grandma would come to help on our busiest strawberry picking days. We would bring her buckets of freshly picked berries. She would sort them into little quart sized baskets. Nice big ones would sell for one price, and smaller and oddly shaped ones were sold as jam berries for cheaper. She took care of any customers that stopped in as she sat there sorting berries. I was sure it would be much more fun keeping her company in the shade instead of having to pick berries with the hot sun shining on my tired back. But my help was needed in the strawberry patch.
We had a roadside stand for a number of years until Dad's woodworking business grew large enough that we no longer had the time it took to grow and sell a lot of produce. I don't think any of us missed all that work, but we did miss the friends we made who had been regulars at our little stand beside the road.