Posts in Hygiene
List of things Millie has peed in or on:
- – Shoes
- – Coats
- – Rugs
- – The bathroom floor
- – Towels left on the bathroom floor
- – Backpacks
- – Dirty laundry
- – Clean laundry
- – Stack of paper for a Room & Board project
Oh, yeah! Jen’s shoes! Silly Jen, doesn’t she know that is one of Millie’s 9 favorite places to empty her bladder??
Millie told me later that she does this to remind humans about overcoming adversity… It actually makes sense because she’s been totally into Brené Brown lately!
Why were Jen’s shoes off anyway?? BECAUSE she prints a sample of a new card, marches from the shop to the house, takes her shoes off by the back door so we can pick the perfect envelope and paper color, THEN slips her shoes back on so she can march back out to print. BUT while we were busy picking the perfect envelope and paper color, Millie was busy filling Jen’s Dansko clogs with a liquid surprise… Oh, Millie! One card down, only 17 more to go!
DAMN, that’s a lot of pinkish ink on the press… Don’t worry, we expressed our gratitude for Millie via organic beef treats (SHE DIDN’T SHARE.) Oh, and Jen prints barefoot now.
Here’s a teaser:
Maybe because I haven’t showered in so long (STAY BACK, BOYS) or maybe because… OMG… I HAVE TO WRITE A BLOG POST QUICK-LIKE.
I’ve been sorting through old newspapers (provided by the Intern) and scanning graphics that SPEAK TO ME.
Whenever Jen goes out of town, Millie prays
that I can hold the Zeichen Press fort down… Or maybe she’s praying for a bath? Or better kibble?? WE’LL NEVER KNOW. Between weighing packages – packaged by the Intern,
and photographing old cards reprinted with poppin’ fresh ink,
I scour antique newspapers for graphics drawn by long-dead art directors
so I can REPURPOSE them into greeting cards that will be (fingers crossed!) added to the line.
(SAFE TRAVELS, JEN/DON’T GET EATEN BY A SHARK.)
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??
Jen went above and beyond her usual role (Queen of Letterpress) when she took my protagonist/muse to the vet for a wounded paw. We knew it was bad when it looked like Mickey Mouse’s gloved hand (hand?). (AND NOT A MINUTE SOONER.)
Here is Tib at the Uptown Vet… See how she gingerly lifts her damaged digits?
I WANT TO POST A CLOSE-UP SO BAD. Just imagine pus oozing out of a furless area between her toe phalanges. But why was it furless?? STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.
While Jen was busy watching vet techs handle My Very Own Tasmanian Devil with (LITERALLY) Hawk Gloves,
I was busy making a Mother’s Day card. This company is obviously 50/50.
Is it sad that Millie only has two baths per year? Maybe.
But when she gets too unpleasant to be around, I know it’s time to release our Spring cards, AND she is shorn like a sheep on the English countryside!Speaking of the English countryside, I had to watch an entire season of Escape to the Country on Netflix
so I could pretend their expansive views were mine.
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.
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.
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??
Belting out classic tunes in a rental car on the way back from the beach after not being eaten by a shark is the best/only way to express our love for Cape Cod.
Getting past crippling body dysmorphia, skunk babies, and smelly garbage has only brought us closer together. Yay, Cape Cod!
And because I’m a big fan of Mr. Edward Gorey (who lived, and died, on the Cape once-upon-a-time), I am making some pretty useful medical flashcards. Stay tuned for H-Z…
Oh, and The Intern always performs radical stunts, so I made her this birthday card:
I hope no one in our party is eaten by a shark – fingers crossed!