Blog - Free-Range Chicken

I don’t know what Jen did between printing cards for the new release, but I was able to fill my time with important things.

It’s best to live in the here and now!

Sure, talking about your gut health and fermented foods might make you the hit of a New Year’s Eve party, but try to remember it’s not about being popular… it’s about being healthy. HEALTHY.

Do I miss the days of eating and drinking whatever I wanted?? No, sir! Not when there are teenagers in the house who keep me from choking to death! Phew!

Thank the Lord I don’t ALSO have a tap-dancing sociopath in the house. That would make my new diet even more difficult and winning penmanship medals impossible.

Cape Cod 2016 is (so far) drama AND cage-free. Wait, we did lose one member of the party searching for the water shut-off valve in the cellar.

He was brave and will be missed.

More importantly, we never found that shut-off valve! One life wasted.

But we must carry on, he would have wanted it that way.The very next day was filled with so much splashing and laughter and sunscreen, I’m sure Ben was looking down on us and giggling! Oh, how he’d giggle!AND here’s a little thing from The Boston Globe about Millennials’ loving PAPER greeting cards. DUH.

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.

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:

I shed my layers this week and exposed my sun damaged, yet somehow pale, flesh to anyone unfortunate enough to glance over at me.

Sun was absorbed, golf carts were driven, and books were begun.THAT’S RIGHT.

Golf carts were driven.

My agent wants a second book, he assures me that he’ll sell this one. He better, because I bought a $95 rug from Target. We’re not all fancy New Yorkers, Peter. WE’RE NOT.

So, it looks like this Winter will look just like last Winter… Except, I had the kids drag the trunk down from the attic for a coffee table.Oh, the cats? Never mind those. This place is crawling with them.Fine, here’s this year’s Christmas tree.

We bought our house on the Cape in 1982…

this was the same year that The Go-Go’s penned their masterpiece.

Coincidence?? I THINK NOT.

Summers on the Cape were filled with so much adventure! There were trees to climb, sea-creatures to discover, rocks to paint (it’s complicated), and cans to return for 5¢ — imagine returning an ENTIRE BAG of cans. Your very own money to spend on candy at the Barnstable News. I dragged a garbage bag of empty cans up Millway, past the dead bodiesto claim my prize. I did not anticipate this being such a great windfall… The Adult behind the counter counted all of my (mostly beer) cans (thanks Uncle Gary!) and the total staggered me.

“Two dollars and thirty-five cents.”

I gasped.

I walked past the wall of candy, right to the freezer full of ice cream treats. One box of six ice cream sandwiches, all for me. ALL FOR ME!!I was a girl on a mission: Eat all six, share with no one, and never breathe a word of this to any of my siblings. I held the package to my (boyish) chest, and ran until I was sure I was alone. Across the street from the cemetery, and next to an abandoned house, I ripped open the box and started eating. 1…2…3… still going strong… 4… slowing down… 5… Five! Only FIVE! What a failure! 

I staggered home, and benevolently offered the final sandwich to my little brother. (What a fool he was for not even questioning my backstory!)

Present day: Southwest Airline’s Boeing 737: 40,000 feet.I made these:

Would a plate-smashing scene make this trip more authentic? Maybe. Oh, but here we are bored out of our minds…It’s tiresome, really! Just ocean, ocean, ocean… day in and day out.And nobody even documents my joie de vivre! Sadly, I must document myself.Jen sent me her selfie all the way from Zeichen Press Headquarters:

In the Spring of 1990, I packed up a carton of cigarettes, a skillet, 4 forks, a sketch pad, and some Mexican jumping beans. Graduating high school means moving into a dormitory on the campus of the college of your dreams. OR moving into an apartment above a pizza place.

EITHER WAY, this card seems appropriate:SPEAKING OF APPROPRIATE, is gluten-intolerance funny?