Speaking of letters! The new prints arrived at all of the Room and Board stores across this great land. The photographs on their website are gorgeous and make me feel like I live in a crack house.
I have nothing against crack houses, I’m sure the people that live in them are perfectly lovely and are just misunderstood.
The legendary, Katie Dohman (Minnesota Monthly) already wrote a little something about them. I’m feeling pretty fancy.
Katie Dohman, style editor for Minnesota Monthly, made a special guest appearance in the shop. She was just delightful and for that she got one of these:
Isn’t that nice?
OH, also: It only seems appropriate that on the eve of the launching of the new site, the dog was caught nursing the kittens.
Enjoy.
I’ve never met a middle-aged man at a BP in Grantsburg and given him money for a Kitchen-Aid mixer — until now! The ZP intern was the recipient of the gift. She cried and looked like she was just crowned Princess Kay of the Milky Way.
It was beautiful.
I spent the last 56 hours holed up in my room (cell) uploading content for the new Zeichen Press website. And just to make it interesting, I didn’t shower or change my clothes. I DID leave once to get a new iPhone because my old one decided it would rather be a hot plate than a phone.
So be it/good riddance.
Fran Shea’s résumé
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
1988-1988 (Nov. 1-Dec 23) Lyndale Garden Center
My first job. Silly me, I heard “making Christmas wreaths” and thought I’d be “making Christmas wreaths.” Pre-made wreaths were heaped onto a lunch table – my job was to choose the sprigs for the wreaths. “Sprigs” was an industry term for cheap Christmassy crap.
1989-1989 (Sept. 1-Sept 15) Pearson’s Family Restaurant
I bussed tables and was told to clear as much of the table as would fit in the gray bin. It would have been very satisfying if I were training to be a power-lifter. Two weeks was too long.
1989-1990 (Oct. 1-March 1) Leeann Chin, Richfield
As a server, I wore a little white hat and jacket. Like a chef. A disgruntled, panicked, 17-year-old chef.
1990-1990 (June 1-Aug. 15) GJ’s SuperValu
A block walk from my apartment above Ribizza – this job required speed and superhuman strength. Bagging groceries during a “rush” filled me with doubt and indecision – eggs before bread or bread before eggs?? Should I take my smoke break now??
1990-1990 (Sept. 1-Nov. 1) Telemarketing for the Special Olympics
I don’t even know how I found this job – it was in a bland office in a bland office building on University Avenue. The script we were handed was written in the 1950?s and we were supposed to offer lots of garbage bags in exchange for donating to the Special Olympics. Our boss was, I think, Bob Saget.
1990-1991 (Nov. 15-Jan 15) Meyer’s Bakery
A job that required cash register skills. I’d rather wash old peoples bottoms than use a cash register – I’d try to push customers into buying things that would result in even dollar amounts so I wouldn’t have to make difficult change. Three cookies? Why not four?… Two loaves of bread? Why not two loaves of bread AND a cookie??
Fast Forward—>
1993-1996 : Carney Studio
The interview went something like this:
“So, you want to be a graphic designer?”
“A what?”
“You’re hired.”
1996-1997 : Odney Advertising
This is where I learned about advertising. And stealing office supplies.
1997-present : Stay At Home Mom
This is where I learned about cleaning up poop.
2006-present : Owner of Zeichen Press
The culmination of a life-long set of painfully acquired skills.
Jen and I share many things: Type wash, paper towels, dirty looks… But nothing… nothing even comes close to this weekend…
Whew! That was a tear-jerker! Um… there is no easy way to segue from a cat eating a placenta…
Well, other things happened this weekend, too… I biked 8 million miles to Hopkins to take some pictures of the new Pizza Lucé… I wrote about that on the Tanek blog… And, well I guess nothing can really compare to the moment when Jen and Susie the Cat locked eyes and Jen stated firmly (but tenderly) “I love you.”
Sigh.
My interests are broad and highbrow — sometimes I think about zombies and sometimes I think about bowel movements. I guess I’m not the only one. The reaction to the zombie card I posted on Easter caught me off guard.
Caught me off guard like a show poodle at the dog park. (See, I’m the poodle, and the big dirty dogs come out of nowhere and molest me).
And that brings me to bowel movements. I just realized that both of the cards Paper Source chose to carry are poop-related. How childish! How jejune!
Something (the cat mistaking my bathroom floor for her litter box) woke me up this morning and although I completely resented being awake, I wrote three cards.
Here they are.
Don’t send me hate mail.
I was getting dressed… brushing my teeth… pulling my hair into a ponytail… looking for my wallet… looking for my keys… feeding the dog… All the while, I heard many, many ducks flying overhead.
QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK
I thought, “Wow… there must be like a hundred ducks… they sure quack a lot…”
I walked outside.
There was just one duck.
On my roof.
•Managed to trap and skin a rat — it will make a delicious stew AND the fur can be used to plug my empty eye-socket — the Lord doth provide!
•Does anyone know where I can find some food? My family has been living on brown bread and my old trousers for the entire Winter. Help!
•Dug such a deep pit today — grandma will surely die this Winter and the grave will be ready in Spring. #planahead
•My husband has had a fever for so long — the barber-surgeon is going to start the bloodletting tonight. Fingers crossed…
•My son is going to the gibbet tomorrow. ðŸ™
Okay, that was nice. How about a new card?
Oscar Litterer lived in my house and he loved his ham radio. He loved it so much, he built a secret radio room under the stairs. I imagine he sat there night after night broadcasting his message to the moon and back. He was not alone — others really did share his passion for frequency modulation — but not in his own home. In his own home, his wife tended the peonies and their only son was devoted to the project of digging the hole in the driveway.
What a lonely life for Oscar!
When someone has a passion for something, they shouldn’t hide under the basement steps. They should open a shop and hire Zeichen Press to design t-shirts. 
F for Fran. Plan Fran…
Ready? OK!
F-R-A-N… That spells, Fran! Yayyyy!
That’s how I start every morning. A rousing cheer, followed by a shot of micro-nutrients and a cup of coffee. Rituals are so important.
On this particular morning, I heard my favorite sound in the world — right after the cry of a newborn baby and right before the death-rattle of my enemies — the fax machine. Beep-beep-boop-beep-bip-bope-bop………..whirrrrrrrrrrr
‘Twas our first order from that paper super-power, Paper Source! I grabbed the fax, my coffee and laptop, and headed to the warehouse. I set all three things down in front of me, sat myself down, faced all squarely and said aloud, “Oh, this is nice.”
And to celebrate, I knocked over my coffee cup, spilling its contents all over the fax and into my open laptop.
Luckily, the dog ran in, lapped up the spilled coffee and pooped on the floor.
When is Jen coming home?
With Jen gone, I wander about bumping into doorways and stepping in dog poop. I think I can write off glasses and shoes as a business expense so I’m not so concerned about the money. I am concerned by my ever-growing obsession with taking photographs of everything I see.
Help.
Me.
Interns make me think of Summer and since we met two potential candidates this week, I think Summer must be approaching. I wanted to have the girls fight to the death for the position but Jen said we could hire both. She is so sensible.
Anyway, Jen’s going on vacation tomorrow and that leaves me plenty of time to clean up the blood and call Centerpoint before I dig the grave in my backyard.
Dear Diary, I witnessed something today that I’m pretty sure is illegal. Anyway, I hope Jen has a nice time in Mexico. Fondly, Fran
One year, the Easter Bunny put a tiny white bunny in our Easter basket. I was sure it was meant for me and not for the other kids that shared my home and parents. An outdoor cage was built and the bunny lived in it until — and my memory gets fuzzy at this point — the bunny went to live with the Easter Bunny again? Yes, I think that’s what happened.
I don’t remember how I got it, but I also had a durable green parakeet. I usually forgot to clean her cage and the droppings rose like stalagmites from the newspaper-covered floor.
We never had a dog, although my grandparent’s dog tried to make me his wife. That was pretty traumatizing.
Last weekend, I was surrounded by six small dogs. I loved it so much, I made a new card:
Oh, AND the Important Thing? We got cards into Paper Source. It’s about time you noticed us, you big lug. (Paper Source has 63 shops around the country. Thats 63 x something x $ = $$$$)
Artisan Center -> 2757 East Third Avenue, Denver, CO 80206
ANOTHER profile in that special series dedicated to bringing our readers biased reviews of shops that carry our goods.
Okay, so I began my exhaustive research with the Yelp reviews. One phrase stood out, “This place hasn’t been around for 30 years by sucking.”
That should be their slogan.
Do you need soaps, jewelry, mobiles, salad bowls, stained glass, OUR CARDS, or a bird house made of a Minnesota license plate??
You do? After reading those reviews, I had to go check this place out for myself:
Those people are small. And blurry.