Duck, Duck, GRAY DUCK ~or~ Decisions, Decisions

published by Fran Shea

I heard (via Facebook) we had a lot of snow last week but I don’t know what to believe because I locked myself in my bedroom and closed the… how do you say?? Blankets… on the windows?? Oh, BLINDS. Sunshine and warm weather only leads to selfish behavior and I’d much rather spend my days emailing Jen and the Intern about the Spring release and organizing my tax documents. Spoiler Alert: we chose 12 cards and my tax guy wept with joy when he received my paperwork. (But through his tears, he mumbled something about me being second to none.) 

Before my self-imposed deadline arrives, I have time to disclose the two cards that nearly made me exit my cloistered life:

Oh, and despite my other critical obligations, I managed to do some pro bono (Latin for dope) work for a worthy cause: Putting together a podcast for the fine folks at The MS Gym. Anyway, I know what you’re thinking, it’s about time she learned about RSSs and XMLs.

Single-Mindedness ~or~ CAN I GET AN AMEN??

published by Fran Shea

My lookalike bike was hiding in Seattle

and all it took was one woman (me), 543 days of determination, and searching all of Craigslist to find it. Oh, and one man who was willing to take it apart and ship it 1,645 miles. 

In your face, “Cara” from OfferUp.

And P.S. I KNOW that’s not your real name and I hope you cry yourself to sleep every night because you feel super lonely. P.P.S. Maybe you can’t read the two-inch-tall bike-brand ‘NOVARA‘ emblazoned on the frame because the crack-smoke is in your eyes?

I don’t question how I’m inspired, I ACCEPT IT. So, here’s a Mother’s Day card I made that I’m sure “Cara” will neither give nor receive.

Life IS Sweet

published by Fran Shea

I am still focused on birthday cards every day but

I make time to obsessively google Novara Big Buzz Bike. Oh, I’ll find one. MARK MY WORDS. When Pam the Cat got smashed by a car, I looked to Craigslist for another kitten to fill the cat-hole-sized space in my heart — enter: Tib.

Different than being raised from the dead (a la Lazarus

or Gage from Pet Semetary – a book I didn’t whip across the room in the middle of the night, circa 1988. Just kidding, I did whip it across the room, circa 1988.) Thanks to Craigslist, bikes and cats can be replaced!

Stay tuned!

MARCH, MARCH, MARCH

published by Fran Shea

When I need to know what month it is I just observe the animals around me. Simple!

HANG IN THERE, TIB – only 25 days till April!

Jen and The Intern and I are taking a break from a heated discussion about which cards should be dumped and which cards should be spared. Decisions like this require heartlessness and detachment. I don’t even care because I replaced my heart with an alligator’s heart. (COLD BLOODED.) I threw the dumped cards in the alley just to prove how much I didn’t care. 

(That’s one of the dumped cards and I STILL DON’T EVEN CARE.)

I already moved on. 

 

Midwinter Night’s Nightmare ~OR~ February in Minnesota

published by Fran Shea

Oh, I KID! I love hearing the signs of Spring! Cawing crow and distant chainsaw, I HEAR YOU. I also see the sun setting later, like it’s November, BUT IT ISN’T. If Winter were actually a six-month marathon, I’d shove so much grain-free chips and guacamole in my fanny pack, stock my running-bandolier with a variety of hydration gels and, ONCE AGAIN, salute the outdoors for being a worthy adversary.

But that’s silly! Guacamole would turn brown and my chips would get stale! I will just stream movies, write cards, and fashion the hair I pull off my sweater into a wreath. 

Say Hi To Yoa Mutha’ For Me

published by Fran Shea

My firstborn turned 26 yesterday and between bites of angel food cake, I did the math and figured out that’s more than 6 years older than I was when he was born. I invited him over when I was done with my calculations. He tied a cloth napkin on Millie’s head because he was so grateful that I saved him some birthday cake. Oh, to be young!

I’ll give him this card in about 40 years:

Tangible Tenacity ~OR~ How To Replace Your Head With a Pig’s Head

published by Fran Shea

How could my mom have known when I was born I’d spend so much time trying to get Martha Stewart‘s attention?

And so little time in the space program?? Silly mom! Didn’t she know that Martha’s career as a stockbroker was about to be traded for a career in the catering business? And that I would hate wearing helmets??

I do challenge Martha to prepare a fennel and smoked salmon salad in zero-gravity while I set my lead type to create a greeting card for the disadvantaged masses.

HOW ABOUT IT, MARTHA??