Everyone knows that St. Helena has The Best Fall Festival, this side of the Mississippi.
I did hear that Nativity in St. Paul has a snake pit and a freak-show…
But Saint Helena has rides and games and prizes — prizes like t-shirts that Jen and I made for the Duck Shoot!
Yeehaw!!
Give a kid a cork gun, step back (STEP BACK), and watch the magic!
Jen is DUCKing.
After spending $80,000 on climbing gear and an entourage of Sherpas in Nepal,
I’m sure it was glorious.
The relief, the pride, the joy!
BUT, she forgot one teeny-tiny thing: enough oxygen for her descent. With temperatures hovering around -30° and an altitude of 22,000 ft., she laid her body down on the side of the mountain.
And died.
Lesson??
Never trust a Sherpa.
Zeichen Press reached a summit too! We’ve been climbing Mount Greeting Card for a looong time and we finally reached the tippity-top: Urban Outfitters.
…But now I’ll have to set a new goal… Suggestions?
Urban Outfitters bought this card — but just to be fancy, it will be printed with a bright blue ink:
Let’s do this, indeed.
An ANTfestation in the shop required aggressive use of insecticide. Two waves of spray-on poison were needed to completely wipe out the colony hiding behind the Great Wall Of Cards.
We murdered thousands of ants
before Jen and I had an important meeting to decide which cards should be included in our next release.
Wait, after the genocide, but before the important meeting, Classic Pam got ahold of another baby rabbit. (See blog post: Fear and Dread) There was some backyard bedlam involving the dog and five kids chasing the cat… I got caught up in the chase but ended up somehow kicking the hopping baby rabbit. Don’t ask me how that happened.
DON’T ASK.
And without further adieu… the moment you’ve all been waiting for… OUR… NEW… CARDS!!!
“We’re Creek People now, mom… We’re Creek People…”
What began as an optimistic, joy-filled journey down Minnehaha Creek turned into a somber, personal purgatory.
The creek didn’t mean to be a metaphor for life, but it was.
IT WAS.
We made it out alive and I’m so glad, I didn’t want to have to eat one, or more, of my children.Did you know it’s Jen’s birthday today?? She celebrated by printing cards for Paper Source in our studio-turned-Easy-Bake Oven. She treated herself with a fan pointed at her back.
Tradition dictates that I make her a card. So, I did.
I’m not afraid of heights or clowns or rats or bats or cemeteries or sharks. But I AM afraid of centipedes.
Once upon a time, I vacuumed up a centipede that was wearing Bill Cosby’s sweater.
But enough of that!
It’s August and time to dread Winter.
My research shows that Hell is being trapped in a snow cave with 1,000 centipedes. And here’s a card for Christmas.
WHAT?!
Who’s the fairest one of all?
There is SO much happening around here! First, I had to bait a squirrel trap
to catch the Kitchen-Squirrel. I was going to fill the trap with my kitchen garbage (her favorite) but I decided to go for something more bourgeois: Skippy Peanut Butter.
And then there was a serious decision to make: Which card would Paper Source like more?
I hope we chose wisely because one of our lives (Jen’s) is on the line.
Oh, and I didn’t forget that it is Valentine’s Day today, I am very romantic. Here is proof:
For Immediate Release: In an attempt to build the Zeichen Press Fan Base, Jen Shea and Fran Shea will appear on a local cable-access show locked in a cell and covered in Fancy Feast™. 1,000 cats will be released into the cell through a small hatch. Fran and Jen will sing a medley of famous duets, including Islands In the Stream, Endless Love, and You Don’t Bring Me Flowers.
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I’ve been told that life is full of challenges. And I’m sure that, someday, I’ll encounter one. I hope it’s not a shipwreck or banishment. …I will probably contract the Ebola Virus. I designed a card for myself in preparation.
Oh, but here’s a more “buyable” card for those of us that need encouragement:
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 🙠are now much more common than a hand-written note.
🙠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:
No, no… it’s not a miracle. Just one woman’s attempt to make the world a better place.