Posts in Grandma
I (obsessively) read the entire Black Stallion series under the watchful eye of my molded-plastic mini-Arabian Stallion
and my best, inanimate, friend Raggedy Ann. (Who my mom called Raggedy Baggedy and my older brother reminded me that I could not bring to the first day of Kindergarten. I said I KNOW THAT. But I was lying and couldn’t imagine being separated from her. She was filthy but I didn’t care because underneath her clothes was a secret stitched heart that professed her love to me.
As if I didn’t have enough blessings bestowed upon my busy-body, I was also honored with a sticker collection album… I don’t think my parents even knew how much it meant to me… I heard my little sister took it over when I had grown “too old” for it. I paged through “her” pages and held back my disappointment! Did she understand that stickers were meant to be saved between the clear plastic pages by cutting them out with their backing and a border that preserves the stickability and ease of future use??instead of just STICKING THEM TO THE CLEAR PLASTIC PAGES NEVER TO BE USED AGAIN??
I’m thinking about stickers again (did I ever really stop??) Because Zeichen Press is gonna stuff these 2″ x 2″ stickers in every order (for all of the big $30 spenders)!
I obviously read the Black Stallion series AGAIN to get into character.
The original Aunt Fran
sounded just like Katherine Hepburn.
And my older sister told me I sounded just like a banana with hair. (Don’t act like you don’t know what that sounds like.)
DESPITE that voice, and (let’s be real) a face that only a mother could
use to test bathwater temperature and was also later mutilated with a nose-ring and surrounded by a bad perm and self-cut bangs, I have somehow prevailed! My evidence of this is best expressed through Lifetime Movie monologues
OR our latest release!
BEHOLD! (Here is a teaser/1 of 12 soon to be added to the shop!)
Sure, sometimes my brother teased me via original acronym:
BUT HE WAS TALKING TO ME.
The past week was spent admiring my own biceps and preparing designs for the Fall Release. It’s been a DESIGN FRENZY. 18 cards added… New designs tweaked,
and old designs nipped and tucked and ready to hit the clubs.
DON’T STAY OUT TOO LATE.
PS: That first Mother’s Day card isn’t a confession because there is nothing like that to confess.
There were no coats to push aside, no snow, no Mr. Tumnus, no White Witch… Just a regular bedroom door, a heated terrazzo floor, twin sinks, and His and Hers glass cups ready for dentures. My Grandparent’s bedroom was entered by Invitation Only and was filled with so many curiosities… I remember asking my Grandma if she loved raspberries as much as I did and she told me she couldn’t eat them because the tiny seeds got stuck in her dentures… I felt like that was the saddest thing I had ever heard and that she was truly a martyr.
Here she is with all her own teeth:
It’s a good thing my Grandpa had his pens with him because you just never know.
The old newspapers the Intern gave me are a treasure-trove of graphics
and full of hard-hitting local stories…
Whaaat?? Mr. Therien never used his sick leave??
My Mom speed-walks up to the library with her tote bag to solve whatever needs solving. She uses their Xerox machine to copy important pages of uncheckoutable periodicals and checks out the books that are checkoutable. When she is done, she scampers home to (speed) read those books and take notes on a fresh pack of 3″ x 5″ (lined) index cards. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.
I also feel compelled to solve whatever needs solving but I prefer never leaving my laptop (or house) and using Google to search the World Wide Web. Just this week, I needed to get to the bottom of the origin of our Stone Table.
I opened the drawer and took this photo of the (seedy) underbelly:
APPARENTLY Barnhart Bros. & Spindler operated out of Chicago from 1883 – 1911, BEFORE THAT they were called the Great Western Type Foundry AND THEN they became American Type Founders.
I also learned that ye olde printers used the smooth and clean side of the slab of granite for their own personal gravestone – I can’t wait to share this info with Jen! My brother will be so happy, he hates waste and loves recycling.
After I finished my important research, and because the Intern gave me a huge stack of Tribunes from 1938 to steal graphics from, I wrote and designed a card.
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??
Don’t you hate when your Mom recommends movies crammed with compound fractures and skull-stomping
and you can only salvage your emotional health by writing/designing a Valentine’s Day card?
WHAT DOES THAT SPELL??
My little brother was in my high school German class and between quacking like a duck whenever he spoke and cheating on tests, I skipped class. JUST KIDDING, KIDS! I never cheated on tests. Kidding! I did cheat… but only on homework. I think… WHO CAN EVEN REMEMBER??
The following photograph features my long-haired little brother. He’s the shirtless one and I am wearing a blue leotard because I liked a farmer’s tan and a pilly bottom.
The Art Licensor needed some sports-themed birthday cards and I love a good cheer, so I made this:
And I appreciate a good miracle, so I made this:
My little sister had baby #2 last week, she gave birth at home but, strangely, didn’t ask me to participate.
Despite my lack of presence, the birth went off without a hitch because anyone can boil water and get towels. (SORRY MOM.)
I will give her this card the next time I break in to her house:
ALSO, I made this because I am so into politics:So, you don’t need to watch the news tonight. You’re welcome.
Tib knows it’s summer because the screens are on.
And *I* know it’s summer for other, more important, reasons.But I’m trying to be a better person/less into body-sculpting, so I decided to read a book. It was written by The Intern’s daughter, Nora McInerny Purmot.Chapter 25 was especially fun to read because Madge is so near and dear to my heart and I could relate to the notion of elder-abuse.Except my mom has made it very clear that she wants to be euthanized via pillow-suffocation, pre-elder-abuse.