Wonder Fair owners Meredith Moore and husband Paul DeGeorge at their new store location at 841 Massachusetts St.

Tuesdays are usually slow, Meredith Moore says. Tuesdays, according to the Wonder Fair maven, are quiet days at the gallery she co-owns with her husband, Paul DeGeorge.

On Tuesdays, “it’s just Paul and me,” Moore says.

The couple found time last Tuesday to take a break on their indoor stoop — they’ve been spending a lot of time there lately, she says, hosting friends who stop by the shop, where they’ll sip coffee or wine or “whatever feels right.” Seltzer water’s been a popular choice of late.

But last Tuesday didn’t seem all that sleepy at the new Wonder Fair at 841 Massachusetts St., which opened with a soft launch party Sept. 19. For seven years, the gallery and retail shop — Wonder Fair specializes in prints, greeting cards, writing utensils and other gift-y items, often handmade by local artists and craftspeople — existed in a compact upstairs space above the Burger Stand.

It’s still got that hometown flair, but with a lot more square footage. The new gallery space is nearly quadruple that of the old Wonder Fair, Moore estimates.

Wonder Fair is, decidedly, their world.

The shop’s best-sellers, “wizardly pencils” at $1 apiece, are a nod to DeGeorge’s gig with Harry and the Potters, the popular “wizard rock” band in which he performs as the titular Boy Who Lived.

Meanwhile, Moore’s beloved cats show up around the store as motifs on greeting cards, T-shirts, even the window dressings.

She doesn’t actually have a cat at home, she admits. She just likes the idea of having one around the shop, like other downtown businesses such as the Dusty Bookshelf and the Raven Book Store.

Moore and DeGeorge plan to unveil their new “haunted bathroom,” a permanent art installation by Kansas City artists Dustin Williams and Jon Linn, in time for this month’s Final Friday.

“We’re hoping to attract a ghost cat, specifically, because we’d really like to have a shop cat,” Moore says, rattling off the reasons why an art gallery that also sells paper goods wouldn’t be the best place for a sharp-clawed feline. “So, we need to attract some kind of a ghost with a cat, ideally, or just a ghost cat.”

And yet, while Wonder Fair reflects the whimsy and charm of its owners, the shop isn’t just “their world.”

It’s everyone’s. Now more than ever.

Before, folks would have to walk through the “random door” at 803 Massachusetts St. and up the narrow staircase to Wonder Fair, often “having no idea what’s going to be up there,” DeGeorge says.

Not anymore, now that he and Moore are “street level.” (The pair uses that phrase a lot, often alongside words like “awesome” or “love it.”)

“Just the two weeks we’ve been open here has been a huge game-changer,” DeGeorge says, taking a respite on the stoop with his wife between interactions with customers. “We’ve seen a much more diverse group of people being able to come in and see the shop and see the art we have to display.”

Between 11 a.m. and noon, a handful of people breeze through Wonder Fair’s open doors. Some are friends, like Lawrence Arts Center printmaking fellow Tonja Torgerson, who stops in to deliver fliers advertising her upcoming workshops.

Others, like Ali Peterson, were fans of the old Wonder Fair, too. She’s visiting today with her fiance, Logan Tyler, to pick out a gift for her “artsy” maid of honor.

“Is it cool if we bring in our dog?” Tyler asks before entering the shop. He and Peterson brought a friend along — their Shetland Sheepdog puppy, named Roscoe.

Moore obliges with a smile, and thanks the couple for checking with her first. She’s seen a lot of dogs in her store since moving to the new location. Roscoe might be the cutest, Moore admits.

She’s also seen more folks with “mobility issues” (an elderly gentleman using a walker drops in Tuesday morning, as if to emphasize her point) checking out the space. The upstairs location was a challenge for anyone in this category, Moore points out.

Also new to Wonder Fair: families with strollers buying art for their children’s bedrooms, international students looking for pieces to send home from America and parents dropping in during visits to downtown Lawrence with their college-aged kids.

It’s been great, Moore and DeGeorge agree. And it always was, right from the beginning. When the pair took ownership of Wonder Fair just over four years ago, they merely aimed to sustain the gallery, keep it going.

But Lawrence had other plans. At the time, Moore recalls, there was a “momentum heading toward doing a lot of these exciting and engaging projects.”

“The community embraced it so gladly that it felt like we might as well have larger aspirations to eventually make Wonder Fair as much a fabric of the community as many of the other great arts organizations here,” says Moore, referencing Love Garden Sounds and Van Go, Inc.

“We’re doing something different, but I think we’re community-based, even though we’re retail. And I like giving people the opportunity to see that work — that not all businesses in downtown Lawrence have to be profit-driven, but can also be person-driven and idea-driven and imagination-driven.”

It’s what Moore and DeGeorge are trying to do in their yet-to-be-completed arts-supply shop, which occupies the lofted area above the future Secret Order of the Black Diamond headquarters.

If you’re having trouble picturing it, the space used to house a photography studio inside former tenant Blue Dandelion.

The shop — which will primarily cater to printmakers, illustrators and painters, i.e., the artists who most frequently show their work at Wonder Fair — is modeled after places like The Merc, Moore says.

The cooperative system would ask customers to pay a one-time membership fee, in return giving co-ownership of the business and a share of the profits, all at a discounted rate.

To open the loft by Small Business Saturday on Nov. 28, they’ll need some help. Already having sunk a large chunk of their money into remodeling the space, DeGeorge and Moore are asking the community for funds to purchase art supplies and finish any remaining building projects.

An Indiegogo campaign should launch soon, DeGeorge says.

If they pull it off, the art-supply loft will be the only store of its kind in Lawrence.

“They can sell their work here and buy their materials here, and that feels like a really good…” Moore says, her words trailing off. “What’s the word for like, when everything’s biologically linked in a nice way?”

She’s tracing a circle in the air, searching for the right words, when DeGeorge chimes in.

“Are you looking for ‘virtuous cycle?'” he asks.

Suddenly, Moore’s face lights up. “Oh! Virtuous cycle,” she says approvingly.

It’s not, but she likes it just the same.