The Winter Walk Home from school included two memorable rituals: Dipping our un-mittened hands in 25¢ Tom Thumb coffee (how old IS she?) and passing by a very high retaining wall.
The wall held up the yard of our enemies: Two freckle-faced, red-headed brothers. These boys went to a Public School and as if that isn’t bad enough, they took great pleasure in tormenting me.
I will remind you that this is what I looked like:
Why would anyone want to harm such a sweet creature?
Armed with boulders of snow, poised-and-ready atop the wall — they would wait. Down Vincent Avenue I trudged: snow-pants under my plaid skirt, grease-covered hand-me-down coat, knit cap with sheepskin earflaps.
Again, why would anyone want to harm such a sweet creature?
I won’t tell you the ending.
We had a dusting of snow the other day but I knew better than to break out the snow-pants and knit cap. It was merely a teaser, a preview, an appetizer, an AMUSE-GUEULE.
Speaking of snow, here’s a new card: 
My sister wanted me to show The-Softer-Side-Of-Fran, but all I could think of was Marshmallow Fluff® and then I just wanted to sit on the beach and pull hermit crabs out of their shells.
Please respect my freedom of speech.

Feeling the need for a Field Trip, I went to the Other Side Of Minneapolis and visited
That man in the photograph is not the owner — Rex Mills has Press Operators.


We murdered thousands of ants
before Jen and I had an important meeting to decide which cards should be included in our next release.

What began as an optimistic, joy-filled journey down Minnehaha Creek turned into a somber, personal purgatory.
No, no… it’s not a miracle. Just one woman’s attempt to make the world a better place.



Tickets are available by our back gate and the fight will be held in the driveway.
My life is an endless sacrifice.
And because I need attention, I made this:
See, it’s a profound cultural statement? DO YOU SEE?!
Oh, what do I do after the gong show? I chase and scold the cat.
until it peed and died in my hands.
Settle down. SETTLE DOWN. They’ve led us on before — I’m not going to fashion a wooden stool into a potty chair so that I can sit by the phone day and night.

I also took the time to create this:
So I think that makes us even.
Who would do such a thing?
The hydrangeas are blue enough.
And the dead people are still dead.
PHEW!

