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. 🙠<–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.

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.












See how intense she is?
It only seemed appropriate that this card be printed first:










And see the lilacs in full bloom? (DO YOU??!! Face-meltingly beautiful…)
Hmm, people also think about baseball in the Spring? Right? How about a congratulations card for the bros?

Oh, back to my Mom… She has 22 grandkids. This is her with the latest:
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!
Doesn’t Henry look ashamed?
Eight rejections so far… twelve still unresponsive. But don’t worry about me, I LOVE waiting, and see rejection as an opportunity to grow as a person.
They wouldn’t print it if it wasn’t true.






This card was also on the list, but I refused to pull it because I’m not afraid of her.
BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, I sent 20 little book samples to
So now he can go pitch them to 20 publishers.
ALSO, I wrote/designed a new cover for my book… Kara is busily drawing pictures while I bark directions at her. I’m sure she’s already made a voodoo doll of me.


And the other inmates’ bickering.
and I discuss cannibalism after a family dinner. “Apparently,” says Number One Son, “human meat tastes just like bison.”