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?!
Jen’s in Austria because she loves gazebos.
The Intern (Madge) is in Italy because she loves dreamy landscapes.
And I am here because I love the smell of flooded basements. 
Is that asbestos tile??
Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. See how we just throw caution to the wind over here?? I almost forgot what the floor looked like under 1,000 lbs of soaked carpet! And that was my lesson about not taking things for granted.
Between all that lesson-learnin’, I made a new card.
Don’t hurry home guys!
Tib knows it’s summer because the screens are on.
And *I* know it’s summer for other, more important, reasons.
But I’m trying to be a better person/less into body-sculpting, so I decided to read a book. It was written by The Intern’s daughter, Nora McInerny Purmot.
Chapter 25 was especially fun to read because Madge is so near and dear to my heart and I could relate to the notion of elder-abuse.
Except my mom has made it very clear that she wants to be euthanized via pillow-suffocation, pre-elder-abuse.
Oh, mom!
Wait a sec… This ice cream truck drives slowly by the house/Zeichen Press HQ every day,
but I have never really studied it…
Zoom… Enhance…
And again…
…
…
…
…
…
I KNEW IT.
RSVP wanted MORE greeting card submissions. And having a wet towel for a brain makes it so much easier to wring.
Remember last year when my lung collapsed and my mom had to sleep on a cot in my dingy bedroom so she could walk me to the bathroom in the middle of the night?
And EMTs had to come to that same dingy bedroom, on that very same night, because we thought my chest-tube had fallen out?
No?
I know you’re wondering if the EMTs were cute and why my bedroom was so dingy. Um, my mom volunteered to be their Resusci Annie doll and I’ve been a little too busy building the Zeichen Press Empire to focus on home-making frivolity.
But, between choosing paper/envelopes for the Spring Release and conquering territories, I did refresh my bedroom. And now I see no reason to ever leave it.
Choosing paint color is just like choosing ink color. But with less Jen and more anxiety.
Speaking of self-medicating (was I?) here’s a Spring Release teaser (see/buy ALL 12 from the shop!):
1985 : Minneapolis
One 13 year old girl (me) biked to Calhoun Square in Uptown to buy a record for her friend’s birthday and almost kept it for herself (myself).
I might have forgotten to ask to borrow the bike from my sister. And might have forgotten to ask permission from my mom to bike there. And I might have not brought a bike lock. And the bike might have been stolen from the entrance where it was super-discreetly parked behind the Calhoun Square signage. AND I might have had to walk home.
But how could I not risk everything (being grounded) to get that album when I was pretty sure Prince wrote Paisley Park about me??:
Colorful people whose hair
On 1 side is swept back
Sigh.
After coughing the web of mucus from my throat, it was time to choose paper and envelope colors for the Spring Release.
Dinah told me later that she was plotting my murder while I took this photo.
Oh, Dinah! What will make you snap?!
Wait, tell us more about the web of mucus!
No! No more. Onto more important things.
Like frogs im Deutschland.
Who needs pants when you have legs like that? Amiright??
Miss Sherman was our 5th grade music teacher and aside from corporeal punishment and unruly hair, she was perfect. Every week, students were encouraged to bring in their favorite record album. And because lessons are best learned through repeated humiliation (read about First Picture Day at my new school), I brought in my favorite album.
…I wonder what the other kids brought! This is SO much fun!
…Wait…
Michael Jackson, Off The Wall…
The Cars, Panorama??…
Oh, Kermit! Nobody understands us/Miss Sherman forgot to call on me/oh look, this record barely sticks out between my stack of books/these darn Fall allergies make my eyes water!
I wouldn’t tell my mom about this while I stood by the piano as she played folk songs and I sang my little heart out. I WOULDN’T.
What I’m trying to say is that Jen and I picked cards for our Spring Release.
Here’s a teaser:
One of our many cats had chronic diarrhea. We kept her around because she produced litter after litter of adorable white kittens.
And because coming home was always a surprise – where would we find her poop today?? In the mitten-bin… in the laundry basket… under my daughter’s pillow??
Life is so full of surprises!
Like, when the vet called to say she died after he removed her ovaries. SURPRISE! Oh, but now she doesn’t send us on poop-hunts, because she’s buried in a shallow grave in the backyard.
First life zigs, and then it zags!
No, no… it’s not a miracle. Just one woman’s attempt to make the world a better place.
Broken femur?
SERIOUSLY???