In the belly of the Good Ship Whistlesnot sat two strangers one called Captain Fatchtinkle and the other, Timtim Lipskin.
They chatted like two gentlemen between rounds of whiskey-pong and Password and it wasn’t long before discovering they shared a passion for shuffleboard.
A friendship was born!
(To be continued…)
Hello.
My name is Pevenshire Wiffynuts and I’m here today to talk about targeting your demographic. Whether you are marketing adult diapers, cowboy hats, or cemetery plots, it is critical that you understand your audience. That may mean that you have to poop in your pants, herd cows, or bury a loved one.
Don’t be afraid to do these things they will help you effectively move product and change lives.
Wow! Thanks, Pevenshire.
I hear what you’re saying I ripped off my mom-mask to reveal the face of an eight-year-old-boy so I could create this birthday card:
The poor peasant said it best, “even if we had only one and it were quite small, and only as big as a thumb, I should be quite satisfied, and we would still love it with all our hearts.”
If Fairy Tales were true, hedgehogs would speak and donkeys would spew gold. And poor old peasants could wish and receive tiny children.
I wrote a Fairy Tale about an old childless couple and a duck. Inspired by true events. In the story, there is a duck, a baby, and an angry mob.
But I’ve said too much!
I’ll get that published someday but MEANWHILE here is a card for the new parent it features a disgruntled chick.
I’ve nursed a few babies in my day and that makes me an expert on sacrifice.
It does.
Or is it laziness? Making a bottle seemed like so much work! …Get out of my cozy bed, walk all the way to the kitchen, measure and pour powdered formula into a bottle, warm water in pan on stove, add water to bottle, test temperature
OR
lift up my shirt.
Anyway, I made a card for the new mother:
Isn’t that a comforting thought?
If I had a tumor, I’d want a group of strangers to pray it away.
Less messy than surgery.
Also, if I could train a field-full of meerkats to pray for me, I would.
That would be adorable.
Thanks (or no thanks) to Facebook, phrases that were once packed with meaning, are like a watered-down drink: You are in our prayers… We are all praying for you…
These, followed by a frowny-face š are now much more common than a hand-written note.
š x 1,000!
Someday we’ll create Encouragement Cards for the most grievous of events (will we??) but how about those events that still deserve more than a Facebook comment? How about: sewage backups, low-risk operations, stomach flus, power-outtages, lost dogs, lost luggage, car-jackings, rat-infestations, or hauntings?
Not quite tragic but still entitled to a show of support. A card like this (IN THE MAILBOX) would cheer a person up posthaste:
It was time for The Sign Of Peace, and as all members of the congregation turned to offer their hand for a firm shaking, I slowly let my sleeve swallow my hand.
With a forlorn look and one missing hand, I imagined the gasps of concern for my deformity. I turned to the family in the pew behind me they would wonder if I was born crippled or if my hand had been lost in a bloody accident. I was eager to extend my handless arm, my face already prepared and appropriately pitiful.
Oh, but why do parents have to crush their children’s fantasies?
And here’s another story about hands:
I took woodshop in highschool.
I did. I was the only girl. The room was filled with dangerous power-tools and I secretly hoped for the “automatic A” decribed by the teacher: ”If a student is dumb enough to sever a finger or an entire hand, they will receive an automatic A.”
Unfortunately, I successfully made a box:
Speaking of hands, here’s a new card:
Much to be thankful for this year… Jen and I have FOUR working lungs, DreamWorks Studios loves us, AND (fingers crossed) Tib is pregnant again. 
Last night, I dreamt I took a day trip to Manitoba. Just an afternoon of pool-swimming at an area motel. I came home and bragged to everyone, “I went to Manitohhhba today.”
Two observations:
1) No wall-less public toilet in this dream?? That’s right. Who’s in charge now, Dreams??
2) My dreams have finally taken me to Canada…
AND ANOTHER THING: Winter came completely out of nowhere this year. One week it was 71°, and the next week, I had to break out the Smartwool. “Oh, Minnesota! You are so crazy! Potholes and moquitoes and icehouses!”
Shut up.
Our four desks were pushed together for a Thanksgiving art project; we wrapped bits of Autumn-colored tissue paper around the end of No. 2 pencils, carefully dipped the wrapped end into the puddle of Elmer’s Glue squirted onto a scrap of construction paper, and placed the florette onto the the inside of the outline of a turkey. 1…2…3… Ten seconds for each one to dry and the process to start all over again.
What a perfect time for my 4th grade teacher to join us!
Conversation was breezy but quickly turned to talk of Christmas presents… Boy Student, “Can you believe that I believed in Santa Clause until I was in SECOND GRADE!” Laughter from the table… Laughter fades… MY TEACHER confides in the little group, “You guys, don’t laugh I believed in Santa Clause until I was in FOURTH GRADE!”
Hmm, *I* believed in Santa Clause until that very moment. š <–Frowny Face
OH, BUT WHY DOES LIFE HAVE TO BE SO PEPPERED WITH DISILLUSIONMENT??
Fast forward 33 years, DreamWorks Studios
just ordered 400 of THIS card.
Sooo, there’s that or whatever.
Just imagine this:
in a Witch or Hobo costume, “Trick or Treat!”
I was never Wrapped in Bacon like these fancy L.A. kids… Our L.A. rep sent us this:
I’m assuming this little person was Trick-or-Treating… But I see no treat bag, nor do I see a 3-ring binder, NOR DO I SEE the latest issue of The Watchtower.
True story: Since I put my NO SOLICITORS card on the front door, I have had, exactly, zero solicitors. Buy yours today!
And maybe a pregnant cat.
Don’t say anything. JUST DON’T. Tib might have snuck out the window like some sort of wild teenager. We’ll know as soon as we catch her in the kitchen with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.
In other (less controversial) news from the Zeichen Press Headquarters: The new cards are all printed and in the shop! Wanna see?
Life is like the murky end of our lake and you’ll have to dump in a 10 lb. bag of Aquacide Pellets if your mom isn’t there to rake the weeds away.
What is she talking about?
Don’t act like you don’t know.
Do you need a Congratulations-ish card?
You do?!
It only took a few minutes to have a mole removed last week (my chest tube scar needed a BFF) and I texted Jen when it was done, exclaiming my relief at the speediness of the procedure.
She told me that that was the easy part.
That’s the way our relationship works I get my head all full of smells of burnt flesh and joy, and Jen tethers my helium balloon to the doorknob.
It works. IT WORKS.
It’s time, once again, to print cards for the new release.
Choosing a corresponding envelope color can be difficult, and when Lucy or Loretta are unavailable we use another neutral third party.
See how intense she is?
SETTLE DOWN, DINAH.
PS: You know we didn’t win Martha’s American Made Award competition. Stop asking.
We find out on Friday if Martha is adopting us I already packed my bags. I told Jen to pack hers but I don’t think she heard me as she was pealing out of the driveway with her windows rolled up. Oh, Jen!
We (Jen) started printing the new release today, and to celebrate, Millie left Jen a present right in front of Zeichen Press HQ.
It only seemed appropriate that this card be printed first:
The rest of the week (until the adoption), we (Jen) will be printing all of the new cards:
I see it! October 13th is the Dim Light at the End of the Dark Tunnel… The Big Day.
The last day to vote for us.
Despite my well documented crippling math anxiety, 
I’ve done some calculations: 4 days of voting remaining x 6 votes per day = 24 votes per person.
You better double-check that number/go vote! <–That’s the link!
I barely wept with gratitude when I found out Minnesota Business Magazine wanted to write about Zeichen Press for Martha Stewart’s American Made competition… And when Minnesota Business Magazine writer, Erica Rivera, told me to hush my pretty mouth so she could interview me, I did hush my pretty mouth. I do as I’m told. I DO.
Anyway, Erica wrote this masterpiece:
And then I scooped the litter box.
AND here’s a page about litter boxes from my STILL UNSOLD book: