Yet, Here We Are
We’ve reached the point of the fall baking season wherein some nights I would like to just hang my bones up in the closet and put my brain in a jar of water, thereby just resting the shell of myself overnight. That sounds dramatic, I’m aware…but anyone who stands on their feet most of the day just read the part about hanging up the bones and whispered “amen” to themselves.
Here’s what else:
Our exterior sign for PJP West End should arrive for installation late next week. Now that our neighbors have their signs up, people are calling us and asking us where the heck our sign is. In production, that’s where.
We are just five weeks from Thanksgiving and have 50% more orders than this point last year. That’s 50% exciting. And 50% terrifying. (Just like opening a second store.)
Allegedly, Thanksgiving dinner this year could be the most expensive in history because of the increased cost of goods and the supply shortage. We are stockpiling canned pumpkin in the storage container. I never guessed that would be sentence I would type.
Or, actually, that I would stockpile anything in a storage container ever. Yet, here we are.
Jeanne, on the other hand, would like to buy the storage container and bury it in her yard. I am still unclear on what she wants to put in it, why/how/where she would bury it, or the point of any of her plan…but the whole concept is super on brand for her.
