Are non-Western cultures conversations peppered with trite, colloquial sayings?
Like, in Kapushi, Zambia (population: 26 people per mile) — does one friend say to another (in Kaonde) upon receiving news that their baby was trampled by antelope, “Everything happens for a reason”?
These condensed and optimistic phrases are woven into our chats and unless you are a hermit or deaf, we are all guaranteed to hear at least one per day.
Sometimes a man’s manliness must be recognized. Manly is a term often reserved for a lumberjack, firefighter, or bounty-hunter. A narrow and unfortunate caricature. Why not a goatherd? Or glass-blower? Or gemologist?
Anyman* that strides confidently into their chosen arena (office, field, arcade, classroom, rubber raft, bowling alley, butcher shop, grist mill) and owns it is, in my opinion, a beast.
Give them this small token: (They will grunt, nod, excuse themselves, and go into the bathroom to shed a single tear.)
*Did I make that up?
I’m talking about leap day. Don’t even bother trying to explain it to me, I don’t actually care. The important thing is that I milked one more day out of this prudish month.
Zeichen Press would be nothing without self-imposed deadlines (and cake) and our card-release was set for March 1.
It was a real pressure-cooker situation around here — and because I don’t have enough intensity in my life, I locked myself in the linen closet and reenacted Apollo 13’s return journey. Just me, my laptop, both cats, and toilet paper tubes. We got home safely, God Bless America.
Anyway, we can thank the ground crew (Kim & Fred) for jury-rigging up product photos:
There once was a Frenchman that could, and would, eat large objects. He ate them bit by bit and was able to digest bicycles, televisions, shopping carts, chandeliers, and even an airplane. This took patience and, reportedly, gallons of mineral oil.
Bit by bit.
This wasn’t some sort of performance art piece — he never meant for it to be a metaphor.
But he ate a plane.
Such deliberateness! I like to imagine that he carefully considered each piece as he pried it off and swallowed it.
Mister Eat All The Things (Monsieur Mangetout) could be an inspiring mascot for an economic philosophy.
I’ve been told that a printing press in the shop is just as good as three acres and a cow. We’ll see. WE’LL SEE.
Anyway, I made this card for the president of The Society of Distributism because he has a fancy book signing coming up — 150 lucky people will receive the card. Oh, and a signed book.
The Epilepsy Foundation needed a new look for their fleet of trucks and The Carney Group contacted me (via telepathy) to see if my brain was available to think of ideas. I’m not just a brain. Geez.
I rescheduled my ice-pick lobotomy and put on my thinking cap.
What if the trucks were bright red and had big white letters with a line like, THIS TRUCK CONTAINS TWO TONS OF HOPE??
Yes?
Okay.
Do I have to write the script myself? The script that tells the tale of an experiment gone horribly wrong — a pharmaceutical company hot on the heals of developing a drug that ends all pain and suffering forever??
The drug, nicknamed “Bozo” does so well in animal testing… So well, in fact, it is released to the general population of prison inmates.
Death row no longer feels like a death sentence, cold concrete cells feel like a day spa, “relationships” feel special.
Until… The unexpected “side effects” begin to develop… Oh, it’s too sick. Just imagine a zombie movie but replace the zombies with clowns.
Here’s a birthday card:
When Pam (our New England rep) calls me, I have to think for a second… Is this Classic Pam the Cat calling me from beyond the grave? 
But no, that would be silly! Classic Pam is too busy.
Pam spent last week at the Javits center in New York, I think because she loves us.
We love you too, Pam.
She is faxing orders over willy-nilly and I am busily taking pictures of kittens.
(She’ll thank me later.)
Spruce & Gussy -> 12 Mount Desert St. Bar Harbor, Maine
ANOTHER profile in that special series dedicated to bringing our readers biased reviews of shops that carry our goods.
This time, I’m two-timing Zeichen Press with The Book.
(Remember when I two-timed Zeichen Press with Tanek, and I made those paper dolls??)
OMG, good times!
Now I’m spending my waking hours wrangling kittens
and working on the book. Here’s a teaser:
PUT YOUR GLASSES ON.
Still blurry?? Wink.
I shed my layers this week and exposed my sun damaged, yet somehow pale, flesh to anyone unfortunate enough to glance over at me.
Sun was absorbed, golf carts were driven, and books were begun.
THAT’S RIGHT.
Golf carts were driven.
There were TWO mysteries at Zeichen Press HQ this week. I prayed and prayed to Benedict Cumberbatch,
and my prayers were sort of answered, because Jen came to search/tear the house apart.
FIRST, one of the five kittens was missing.
Tib had means AND motive. She was questioned and released.
Poor Tib… We accused her of eating her weakest kitten. (True story.)
The kitten was later found, unharmed.
Sorry Tib.
But what was the second mystery, Fran??
HUSH, it will be explained in my Tell-All book, coming soon!
OR to use a term I (maybe) coined:
Wintermission!
I’ve been enjoying hour after hour of On Hold Music
and eating all of the Holiday Cookies.
Oh, AND setting up a GoFundMe for Tib The Cat. (Donate today to be eligible for one free kitten. Please. I beg of you.)
—
AND HERE’S A BREAK-UP CARD. I’m a giver.
Thanks to buzzfeed quizzes, examining my conscience is so much easier. And shouldn’t we all ask ourselves those tough questions this time of year? ”If I were a pizza, what kind would I be?” Or, “Do I prefer Miley Cyrus from her Hanna Montana days or on a Wrecking Ball?”
But what is a life if it’s not examined? Not picked apart? Not squeezed like an engorged tick in a ziplock baggie?
I make cards between all of this productive introspection. Sometimes fictional creatures are harmed. Sometimes, they are spared.
Merry Christmas Eve-Eve!
I designed the Tanek website some dog years ago — it’s time for something fresh and tasty.
Landing page = done.
More to come…
My agent wants a second book, he assures me that he’ll sell this one. He better, because I bought a $95 rug from Target. We’re not all fancy New Yorkers, Peter. WE’RE NOT.
So, it looks like this Winter will look just like last Winter… Except, I had the kids drag the trunk down from the attic for a coffee table.
Oh, the cats? Never mind those. This place is crawling with them.
Fine, here’s this year’s Christmas tree.
Where can a person do all of their Christmas (AND CHANUKAH) shopping??
Amazon?
Shut your mouth.
Let me be more specific. LET ME.
Where can a person do all of their Christmas (AND CHANUKAH) shopping for amazing hand-made gifts while laughing with friends and/or family, eating ethnically diverse foods, AND SEE FRAN AND JEN??
THE NO COAST CRAFT-O-RAMA!!
Omg… that’s TOMORROW! Oh, THAT’S what Jen has been talking about! And THAT’S what these boxes are for!
See you there!
XO!