Posts in Christmas

April 17, 2013
zeichenpress

The woman gazes through her window. A window covered in dog-drool, a window with a view of only one season: Winter. She stares, slack-jawed, at the slow parade of life.


There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area we call the Twilight Zone.

SERIOUSLY?!?

Posts in Christmas

December 28, 2012
zeichenpress

I welcome the extra-ordinary. In fact, I am hyper-vigilant and ever-watchful for signs of miraculous happenings.

I ate two pounds of filet mignon on Christmas Eve and I'm pretty sure that was a miracle. It felt like a miracle — béarnaise sauce drizzled over huge hunks of very rare cow flesh doesn't happen every day.

I love Christmas Miracles, they are the most powerful kind of miracle — A change of heart is better than filet mignon and antlers growing out of a dog's head is, perhaps, the most miraculous of all.

Jen did say I couldn't make any more Christmas cards but I squeezed this one past her because she is a sucker for dogs and because I threw her computer in a snowbank.

 

Posts in Christmas

December 23, 2012
zeichenpress

It's almost January and you know what that means: It's time to wash my Smart Wool socks. And celebrate Christmas.

Jen told me I can't write anymore Christmas or Chanukah cards. After I egged her face, I wrote a Get Well card:

 

Posts in Christmas

December 17, 2012
zeichenpress

The Christmas Tree lot shack doubled as a meth-lab and while I admire ingenuity and entrepreneurship, I like my Holiday Traditions to be more "cozy-by-the-fire" and less "mix-up-a-batch-in-the-tub."

BUT THAT'S JUST ME.

The "lot" contained exactly eight trees but due to a Christmas Miracle, we found the perfect tree!

We only had to retie the tree back onto the car once. To be fair, cooking meth doesn't really prepare a person for handling Christmas Trees.

My Jewish friends don't have these stories and this saddens me, so I made them a card:

Posts in Christmas

December 11, 2012
zeichenpress

The No-Coast Craft-O-Rama was a success!

I think it might be because Jen and I were wearing our new uniforms. 

It's hard to know — but marketing is SO important these days and we really do our best to be, as the kids say, cutting edge.

After the show, we packed our uniforms in bubble-wrap, sat by a roaring fire, and watched the snow fall. 

And fall.

And fall.

That inspired a Chanukah card!

This goes out to my Jewish brothers and sisters:


 

 

Posts in Christmas

December 6, 2012
zeichenpress

And like the Canadian Goose, she stayed. She stayed and embraced the cold, using her derriére to warm the waters of her pond.

And by derriére, I mean "bottom" and by waters of her pond, I mean "the Midtown Market."

What?!

It's time for the No-Coast Craft-o-Rama! TOMORROW (Friday, December 7 AND Saturday, December 8)!!

Here's what I've done to get ready:

That's a full cord of wood that I ordered.

AND I made this card:

Jen did everything else.

See you tomorrow!

xo,

Fran

Posts in Christmas

November 28, 2012
zeichenpress

Secured to her bonnet with picture wire, butcher's twine, and Christmas Spirit (egg-nog). That spruce-top sat atop her head for the entire season of Advent.

She knew that it offset her dour expression — an expression she couldn't redesign. Oh, but the tiny tree brought delight to all she passed!

For those blissful weeks, nobody seemed to notice her stern glower, her face — twisted into the judgmental scowl went unnoticed. She imagined wearing other elaborate fancies on her head — but for now, this would do: 

Posts in Christmas

November 24, 2012
zeichenpress

I was once one of them — an innocent amusement park customer. I looked down at them now, from the highest man-made point in Shakopee, Minnesota. I sighed and listened to the chug-chug-chugging from beneath our coaster — our lives depended on the integrity of a giant bicycle chain. Our open-casket hesitated for just a moment at the tippy-top of the steel summit — hesitated just enough for me to grasp the inevitable free-fall. And as we plummeted to our possible deaths, I screamed.

And wet my pants.

The End

How old was she?

Don't judge me.

Obviously, I wasn't born riding a roller coaster, I was born screaming. And wetting my pants.

*Hint: this photograph was taken close to the time of the event and **Double Hint: I'm not the baby.

Speaking of literary themes, there is a lot (not really) to dissect in this new (Holiday/Winter Season?) card: