~A~ Since the beginning of summer, the children and I have been doing minimal school ~ math, reading, history, and Bible. Because we haven’t been working on our full school load, I didn’t feel like venturing up to the schoolroom. We’ve just been spreading out downstairs at the table. I’ve been sending one of the children up to get something when we need it . . . . and having them put stuff away when we’re done with it.

~B~ A local daycare closed its doors last month and they are selling off everything inside. I was able to snag some fabulous deals on things I’ve been wanting for our schoolroom, but just couldn’t stomach the price tag. We are going to pick everything up this afternoon. I’m so excited! I’ll share photos with y’all after I get everything settled.

How do these two things fit together? Excellent question.

I decided this morning I probably needed to straighten up a bit upstairs in preparation for our “new-to-us” stuff. Ya know. Nothing major. We haven’t been doing school up there for two months, so it shouldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong. Ooooh, so very wrong.

I wanted to curl into a ball and weep.

Oh, wait. I did do that. I believe some snot was involved somewhere. After I could catch my breath, I knew I was faced with two decisions ~ tackle the mess and get it over with or avoid it.

I chose option two.

I baked four dozen cinnamon rolls.

And then, I baked five loaves of bread.

I thought maybe I could head upstairs at that point, but I started shaking uncontrollably and decided against it.

I packaged up all the orders to be mailed out this afternoon. Sixteen packages in all, two of which are from giveaways.

Oh, by the way, have you seen the newest edition to the shop? I’ll be adding a new slip cover each day this week.

Then, I twiddled my thumbs.

“Should I head upstairs now?” I asked myself.

Hyperventilation occurred.

I decided it was time to start planning our trip to NYC. Yes, that was much better. No shaking or hyperventilating or weeping.

Just about that time, I heard someone calling my name. It was the cinnamon rolls. I ate one. Or two.

{Note: I did not eat all of the ones that are missing from this picture. I had lots of little helpers. I promise.}

Now, what to do . . . . .