They were born not as two, but one. Cut from the belly of a woman who was hardly human. Her womb, an experimental lab — a petri dish, an incubator of life not fit for earthly habitation. But life, still.
Strange!
No, not strange:
They were born not as two, but one. Cut from the belly of a woman who was hardly human. Her womb, an experimental lab — a petri dish, an incubator of life not fit for earthly habitation. But life, still.
Strange!
No, not strange:
Like Bread & Pickle (LOVE their lattes) but it serves turkey chowder in an air-sickness bag.
Life is full of gratitude and regret. Both should be acknowledged. Hopefully via a Zeichen Press card. I am sure that if we all thoroughly examined our consciences, we would discover a whole room of regret. That room would be furnished with a urine-stained futon, a musty trunk, and an ash tray. That’s sad!
CONVERSELY, the gratitude room is full of Daylilies and cookie jars.
Here are some cards for both occasions: And don’t act like you don’t need both cards.
We still love you.

There was a pet store in my neighborhood (Petcetera) that had all kinds of fascinating creatures. The best creature was a full-size (5 feet, from snout to tip of tail) alligator in a steel tub. The tub had a makeshift screen cover so that the alligator couldn’t escape.
A screen cover.
So the ALLIGATOR couldn’t escape.
I think it was drugged anyway — it just laid there, blinking it’s beautiful eyes.
Of course there were snakes, and I don’t know much about snakes, but what I do know is pretty scientifically accurate. When snakes speak, they drag out their s’s.
They’re usually pretty shy but if you give one a frozen mouse they are your friend for at least 5 seconds.
It was a fat PVC pipe, coated in Crisco, pitched at a 25° angle and suspended over a pit filled with filthy water. A $5 bill was clipped to the high end and my job was to shimmy my way to it. (Why am I always shimmying poles?) With my glasses pushed tight to my face, my stringy blonde hair moved back and forth as I slid myself toward my goal. I wore my lucky shorts — Granny Smith green with pink piping — and “my 4th of July” shirt — red and blue striped off-brand Izod.
A crowd gathered.
I wanted that $5 and the glory that came with it. With that $5, I could buy enough candy to satisfy my aching sweet tooth and with that glory came a lifetime of bragging rights. “The greased pole in the Hollow in Barnstable? Yeah, I did that.”
I entered a competition today. This one does not involve poles, pits, or Crisco. It does involve money and Jen and I have both agreed that we will do (almost) anything for money.

Uncommon Goods invited us to submit designs for an iPhone case and after slathering myself in Crisco, I submitted some designs. I know you’ve seen these before. I’m really into recycling.

I know that Native Americans can anticipate the change of seasons by paying close attention to the subtle signs in nature. I’ve been doing that too.
Sign number one was seeing a rat splattered on the street in front of my house. When the rats crawl out of the sewers it means we are in for a serious drought. Or that I need to move.
Sign number two was seeing a man peeing on the side of my garage. When a man pees on the side of your garage it means that I need to move.
Okay, the school year is fizzling out like a dud of a firecracker and that’s good because I’ve seen those mangled hands and it is difficult to fill in those little SAT bubbles with a nub-hand.
Once Upon A Time, I made the difficult transition from Catholic Grade School to Catholic High School — this meant going from blue and green plaid skirts to brown and gray plaid skirts. THIS meant that I had to inch my way up the school’s flagpole and fly my skirt like a flag.

Just like Hayley Mills (in The Trouble With Angels!) sans cigarette.
It’s not too late to send your favorite graduate from the Class of 2012 a Zeichen Press card stuffed with money!
(You’re welcome, graduates.)
One fully loaded California Job Case weighs as much as I do and I have spent the week proving this.
We are in the process of rearranging the shop and I am in the process of atoning for my sins via physical labor — my hair shirt is at the cleaners and flip-flops don’t hold small rocks like Uggs.
Here’s how it works: I carefully slide one 100 lb case out of the cabinet and onto the floor.
And then I do that, like, 60 more times.
If I realize there is a case of type I need on the bottom of the pile, I simply pick up each and every case on top of that case and create another pile on the floor.
At some point, intern(s) get involved.
Their apprenticeship is very old-school: They sort type/hate me. That’s how they used to do it in the good ol’ days, I’m just trying to keep tradition alive.
They’ll thank me later.
Thank you, Religion News Service, for appreciating the ho-ho-Holiday-humdrum-hole-filling.
And thank you, Dinah the Cat, for understanding the true meaning of Christmas.
And you’re right, you should be in the new Christmas card.
The No Coast Craft-O-Rama is TODAY and tomorrow (December 4th and 5th) and Jen has been feverishly printing in preparation.
She must have been too busy to notice my new woodpile!
Come see all of the Holiday Goodies at the Midtown Global Market today — Jen will be giving out free hugs with every purchase!
Once Upon A Time, my sister got the stomach flu so bad. Poor thing… up in the middle of the night… every bit of food evacuating her body post-haste. Who knew the colon could churn and transform loose stool into clear liquid? Well, my brother found out when he sleep-stumbled into the bathroom and slipped and skated on the translucent trots that never made it into the toilet-bowl.
See? Analogy. Our gratitude just pours out of us! It’s almost like a medical condition.
To “give back”, we are hosting Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade!
Tune in!
**An Open Letter to Alexis Stewart:
Dear Alexis Stewart,
If you want to be friends with me, just ask. You don’t need to buy all of your Christmas and birthday AND Mother’s Day cards from me.
Friends Forever,
Fran
—
Whew! I’m glad I got that out of the way! Thanks to Mail Chimp, our email-blast campaign was full of success.
Wanna know what Mother’s Day card Martha Stewart is getting in 2016???
I’LL NEVER TELL!!!
Does my IQ have to be higher to understand Sci-Fi films??
As the credits rolled for Interstellar, I whispered, to myself, “whaaat???” Maybe I should have taken 100 classes to prep me? All of that technlogy and time-talk made me wish I was working on the new Zeichen Press catalog that Jen so agressively marked-up.
I’LL GET TO IT. As soon as I finish rewatching Mad Men.
And while I’m (not) doing that, The Intern
is gallivanting about in Italy like some sort of hippie. Well, let’s just see if you have a studio to come home to. (OMG, I’M KIDDING. Please come home. And bring us souvenirs.)
“WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT??”
~Fran Shea
These cards stopped me right in my (dog) poop-covered tracks:
Let’s be friends, Emily McDowell.
Too needy?
Dinah always makes such a big deal about choosing paper and envelope color for a new release.
First, she has Jen print a card:
And then she does this:
She is such a taskmaster.
Greeting cards would be better if they were huge. And I could wipe my feet on them.
And what better way to spread the Good Word of Zeichen Press than by emblazoning it upon the doormat of every doorstep for every home throughout the land?
High Cotton makes lots of things, for lots of people. And now they will make doormats for us. I mean, for you. They’ll make doormats for you. Designed by us.
…El Niño. I know I’m supposed to be cursing Climate Change… I KNOW.
But how can I curse when meteorologists are predicting a warmer-than-usual winter??
I must embrace the phenomenon the way a mother embraces her wayward son.
IN OTHER NEWS, Jen and I chose 12 cards for the next release using darts, a cardboard cutout of Steve Buscemi, and our first-aid kit.
Here’s a teaser:
And because I always plan ahead, here’s a new Father’s Day card: