I’ve already not been murdered by a Craigslist poster selling firewood and done (most) of my Christmas Shopping via Amazon. If I were born 50 years earlier my house would be freezing and my kids would cry hearty tears on Christmas Morning. I can only praise newborn baby Jesus for my easy-peasy life. (Sorry that when He grew up He had to be tortured and die and stuff.)
ANYWAY, the fire is roaring and UPS is delivering whatever my warm-ish heart desires. Isn’t that what this Season is all about?? Between my online-obsession and stoking the fire, I channeled some important words spoken by the Virgin Mary:
I spend my days and nights writing and designing… Feverish and barely stopping to eat, I create.
If only I had my own Antonio Salieri. IF ONLY. I wrote a Christmas card. Or whatever.
Between stalking housepets
and watching scandalous/made-for-Netflix adaptations of Margaret Atwood novels,
I’ve been working on THE PERFECT thank you card to stuff in our online orders. Jen and the Intern keep rejecting everything I make and that’s really hard on my fragile ego.
It never bothered me that the lenses in my glasses were rubber cemented into place and the rubber cement collected sand. I ditched those glasses under a fold in my beach towel so I could run down to the ocean and freely forage for low-tide sea creatures.
It was a free-range life! I wasn’t tethered by social convention! Or hygiene! Fast forward 35 years and I’m still leading a free-range life. Not tethered by social convention! Or hygiene! Today, our press lurched and lunged as if possessed but it was nothing a plastic shim couldn’t fix. See, free-range living!
That’s a filthy, oil-soaked floor and Jen throws cards to the ground when she’s angry. She leads a free-range lifestyle too! THAT’S HOW WE MAKE IT WORK.
(FYI: This is how our beloved C&P looks when Jen isn’t angry:)
Speaking of free-range, I made a new card for all of you (non-vegetarian) LOVERS out there.
Amid controversy and drama (will Jen and Fran ever non-violently agree on paper and envelope colors??
Will the Intern and Tib the Cat ever get along??
WILL FRAN’S MOM EVER STOP LOOKING LIKE FRAN IN 1979/Will Fran ever stop looking in the mirror???)
the New Release is finally done and will be added to the line as soon as I’m done looking in the mirror.
My other virtues are my generosity, beauty, and humility.
THAT SAID, while I PATIENTLY wait for Jen to mix ink for the next release, I busied myself creating flowcharts and Venn Diagrams for a client.
TICK TOCK, JEN.
(Can blog posts be passive aggressive?? DISCUSS.)
After a shivering and tearful debate, Jen and I (NO THANKS TO THE INTERN WHO SPENT THE LAST FIVE WEEKS TRAIPSING ABOUT EUROPE AND NOT INTERNING) chose the cards for our next release.
Here is a teaser:
FINALLY a card for all of the Trekkies and exotic fish lovers!
Stay tuned for paper and envelope choices! DON’T CLOSE THIS PAGE.
My roommate (she later married my older brother because she couldn’t resist the way he transformed runner-rugs into ponchos) had a boombox and when she wasn’t “busy” playing her bootleg Grateful Dead tapes, I would (loudly) listen to a certain CD on repeat in the kitchen.
I’m sure my baby appreciated those months.
Fast-forward 25 years to a house I actually own and the filthy linoleum has been replaced with less-filthy wood floors and babies have been replaced with dogs wearing kerchiefs.
BUT these are still days that I’m #blessed and #lucky because even without that boombox, I listen to those 13 songs on repeat every fall. And even though those board books have been replaced with MacBooks
my kitchen murals have been replaced with licensed “art” and is seen by more than three people. Right, RSVP?? RIGHT??
I never swear. Except when I’m driving. Or drop something. Or run out of coffee.
The Paper Chronicles included our most risqué cards in a recent post
and I rear-ended a car just so I could let out a stream of curse words. It would probably have been less expensive to drop something or run out of coffee, but I love drama!
Here’s another card I made that is safe to repeat while changing a diaper:
Now that Jen and I are savvy businesswomen we know what it means to write something off and it turns out you cannot write off costumes and puppets, even if they are used for self-expression?? Thank God for our tax guy or we’d be in a Dickensian debtors prison.
Speaking of handfuls of money, I need to get back to writing/designing cards for our next release. Quit trying to distract me with wildfires and Lifetime movies.