There are easier ways to build a business than packing a trailer full of meticulously curated antiques and driving 15 hours from Indiana to Texas.

Easier than hauling mahogany tables, china, and vintage curios across state lines. Easier than feeling a jolt and a snap behind the wheel, the sound of something starting to drag behind you, and the moment you catch movement in the mirror and think, wait… is that one of our tires?

But for Kerri Zeien and her family, ease isn’t the point. The point is building it all together, even when a tire flies off somewhere between Evansville, Indiana, and Round Top, Texas. After all, every mile gets them closer to Fayette County, cinnamon sugar donuts, and the Antiques Show they wait all year for. 

“It’s not for the faint of heart,” Kerri says. “But when you love something so deeply that it’s in your soul and in your being, then it almost doesn’t work [without the hard parts].”

That love — the one so deeply in her soul and being — is The Cotton Shed: a family-run antiques shop known for its gathered and styled collections of beautifully-sourced old goods. Now a staple at Blue Hills, each piece is sourced from the Midwest and brought to Round Top by the same family who found it.

And, if you’re lucky, you might even leave with a bag of cinnamon sugar donuts.

In Round Top, their builds kept getting more elaborate, collections more expansive, and the rhythm of arriving, setting up, and packing up just as quickly no longer felt like enough. That’s what led The Cotton Shed to Blue Hills: a move Kerri still describes as a “God moment.”

“This was just where we really fit,” she explained. “It was instantly just home. They welcomed us with big arms, and we became even more part of Round Top, and it became more part of us.”

For Maddie, that sense of belonging came quickly.

“She was like, ‘I don’t want to not come,’” Kerri says.

So they made a change. Maddie transitioned to homeschooling, allowing her to travel with them season after season and fully step into the rhythm of the world her family was building together. It meant that every long drive, early setup, and moment in between was spent side by side — and she was growing up as the business did, too.

Each season begins months in advance, with Kerri and her family sourcing antiques across the Midwest. Kerri gathers pieces one by one, building out collections that will eventually come together as a single, layered space. It’s a process rooted in instinct as much as experience, shaped by years of knowing what feels right and what will resonate once it’s placed.

Then comes the fifteen-hour drive to Round Top, the truck and trailer packed to the brim and each piece carefully wrapped, loaded, and accounted for.

Kerri, her husband Lucas, and her daughters Whitney & Maddie unload everything themselves, transforming an open structure into a fully realized experience at the Show. Walls go up, furniture is placed, collections take shape, and what starts as an empty space becomes something immersive and entirely unique.

“We don’t have outside help,” Kerri says. “We do everything ourselves, as a family. It’s how we became The Cotton Shed, and we navigate it that way.”

Everyone has a role.

“We wear all the hats,” she says. “We do all the work and we're in it together. Round Top is all of us working the whole time, and I love that.”

Kerri and Whitney lead the buying and the behind-the-scenes logistics, constantly sourcing ahead for future shows. Lucas steps in wherever he’s needed, helping with setup, breakdown, and heavy lifting. And Maddie, as Kerri puts it, brings something else entirely.

“She’s our mascot,” she says, laughing. “She’s here for the fashion and the people and the fun, but she jumps in when we need her.”

At some point, the family added something unexpected to the mix: donuts.

What began as a way to add a fun detail evolved into something of a Cotton Shed signature. Now, alongside the antiques, you’ll catch the warm, buttery scent of cinnamon and sugar clinging to the air.

Of course, none of it comes easy. The blown-out tires, broken axles, and long hours are proof of that. 

“It’s the hardest job I’ve ever done,” she says. “It’s not for the faint of heart.”

But it’s also the one that keeps calling them back. Because Round Top, for The Cotton Shed, is more than a show. 

It’s a gathering, a community, and a place where people who truly understand antiques — and love them — come together in a way that’s rare and beautiful.

“Round Top is the one place where true antique lovers gather like nowhere else,” Kerri says. “The love is so deep, and we all become friends and family. It starts the minute the show opens and goes all day, every day. Whether you’re at the gas station, the mercantile, or another field, it’s just contagious. It’s Round Top. It’s just so special. Nothing else compares.”

Along the way, the show has become a collection of moments they get to share as a family — some expected, and some they never could have planned for.

Like the night Drake (yes, that Drake) walked into The Cotton Shed after hours, flanked by security and a line of black SUVs outside. The whole family was there as he stepped inside to shop, pausing at a watchmaker’s cabinet that Kerri had loved, but her husband hadn’t.

“I told him, ‘It’s really just not something you find all the time. It’s extremely cool,’” she says, laughing. “And I said, ‘I have to be honest… my husband hated this piece when I bought it.’”

Drake smiled. “Well, the joke’s on you, buddy,” he said. “I’m taking it home.”

At one point, he wandered over to a cart filled with ticking pillows, asking questions as he went. Kerri searched quickly for the price tag.

“It’s $400,” she told him. “Is that okay?”

He leaned in, smiling. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’m not here to negotiate with you.”

Later, her family filled in the context she had missed in the moment.

“They were like… ‘Mom, you understand he’s a billionaire?’” she says, laughing. “And I realized I had just asked a billionaire if $400 was okay.”

But for Kerri, the most meaningful part of it all isn’t the scale of the show, the people they meet, or the pieces they sell. It’s who she’s built it with.

“What I never expected,” she says, “was that my family would be doing this alongside me.”

See, somewhere between the long drives, the late nights, and the moments you can’t plan for, that’s become the point.