Folding Cards and a Passive Aggressive Dog - Letterpress

Jen and I dream of one day owning a paper-folder. If that day ever comes, we will weep (and probably embrace) for joy – casting our folding-spoons out forever. Forever. But until that day comes, we will fold our cards by hand. We are looking for qualified (have hands) people(s) to assist in the folding. Payment would be in pounds of ground beef and (also) (not ground-up) kittens.

Our folding party (I’m still recovering) last night went pretty well. We folded a lot of this card:

Millie the dog came to the party but had very little to contribute. She was actually really useless.

We outbid everybody (nobody) on ebay and won a hotplate for 99¢. It’s for the JSTKinstructional film that is, as they say, in production. Meaning, we haven’t started yet.

We tried it out, it works, and has two settings: “off” and “burn the house down.” I can’t wait to shoot!

Jen has been printing and pulling decks together for all of our new reps and I have been thinking a lot about the ocean. I’ve never seen the ocean in Winter. So, that’s a lot to think about.

Here’s a new card I made to go with all that thinking:

I don’t know very much about New Zealand

but I do know that, soon, New Zealanders, young and old, will speak the name of Zeichen Press – will clutch these American-made letterpress cards to their breasts, and with closed eyes, whisper, thank God… thank God…

–>This means that we picked up a New Zealand distributor. We have already sent ourselves this card:

The first week of January is known as the first week of January. It’s also known as the time that the patient angler, eyes fixed on the bobber bobbing on the surface of the nearly frozen water in the middle of a hole cut through the ice-crust of their chosen lake, watches and waits. Watches and waits for the bobber to disappear, the bobber attached to the line tied to the sharp hook, the hook baited with an irresistible, wriggling delight. 

I love that the Zeichen Press fax machine is the bobber in the story. Ring, ring, ring! Thank you reps for dangling our delights (?!) in front of those hungry buyers! You wear snow-pants so we don’t have to. But we do anyway.

Because of you, we have time to direct important things:

2010 has a short driveway and as we backed down it we (I) felt wistful. It seems like only last year we were freezing in Brainerd. Here we are again, eating thick-cut bacon and praying for the strength to survive round after round of Name That Tune. I don’t believe in New Year’s Resolutions because the prisons are overcrowded as it is and also because the world isn’t ready for my style of leadership. (Deer-in-the-headlights.)

This was a big year for Zeichen Press – and as I sit in my Fiberglass Insulated Cell, I feel gratitude. I also feel greasy from all of the bacon, but like the sparrow, I will take a sand-bath to freshen up when the time is right. A new website, a fleet of reps, prints in Room & Board, the dog’s wig:

Who wouldn’t be grateful? I believe Jen and I are coming up on The Five Year Anniversary of Our Zeichen Press Partnership – we will celebrate by not murdering each other in cold blood.

Don’t worry, we’ll send out Save-The-Date cards.

Aunt Clare –>

In other words, it’s her Magic Birthday!  The Orange Five print was created especially for her:

It’s pretty tasty and she may try to lick the ink but I can’t be responsible for that. Just like I can’t be responsible for anything I did from 1985 – 1995.

Christmas is just around the corner and that can only mean one (or more) thing(s): The shop is closed and the kitchen is open.

ALSO, it means that the children and animals are underfoot (more than usual) because of the 5 foot snowdrifts blocking the exits.

But don’t worry if you haven’t sent (or bought) your Christmas cards, yet! We (Jen and I, mostly Jen) are here to hold your hand straight through this blustery season! Did you know that (legally) you can send “Christmas” cards until January 6? THAT, is the official end of the Christmas Season because that’s when the Wise Men hauled it to the manger.

*Playmobile dramatization.

I used to mark the end of the Christmas Season by my son’s birthday (February 7). That day meant it was time to shove the Christmas tree out the second story window before the arrival of the birthday party guests. Now the tree stays until it becomes a fire hazard, and not a moment longer. So responsible!

So, speaking of an Epiphany: Don’t waste another minute reading this scatology! Go and buy some Seasonal Cards!

I need a mechanic. Or whatever that person is called that fixes printing presses.

I left the house to escape this:

Only to discover:

That’s Jen crammed in the corner (where she should be) trying to figure out why the belt is slipping off our C&P. Why are her hands glowing? If only we had an answer.

Proposals were requested by a public entity (m-m-mysterious!) and WHO ARE WE not to respond?? We felt it our duty (doodie) – as citizens – of this great state, to answer the call.

What follows is a step-by-step account of the creation of the proposal. Zeichen Press style.

°°°

1) Do I look bitter? I’m getting into character. 

2) Brrr! This type is as cold as my heart. Here is the part where lead type is put into something called a stick. Sometimes reading backwards makes me so angry.

3) Now that cold, lead type is locked up into a (cold, metal) frame using fancy (cold, metal) things called quoins. This whole thing is very heavy and sits flat on a proof press. Ready to do my bidding.

4) I load up my brayer with black ink so I can roll it across the type.

5) When I’m sure that my type is evenly inky, I roll this over it. *Notice the vice-grips. I don’t remember why I put them on there and am now afraid to take them off.

6) Isn’t this magical? Ink + paper = awesome.

7) (I would show Jen printing the pages for the guts of the proposal but I felt too fragile to withstand another one of her icy stares.)

8) Printing done.

9) This is where Andrea is shackled to the table and sews the pages into little books while I throw olives at her head.

10) And this is where the little books are finished.

I suppose other people will email their proposals. That’s cool, too.

The No-Coast Craft-O-Rama is behind us and – like so many weekends – it’s all a blur.

I do remember Jen yelling “yahtzee!” whenever someone ordered the Show Special (two eggs, a slice of bacon and Texas toast with a dozen cards). And I remember feeling drunk with power. The top-selling card of the weekend was:

That tells me that Minneapolis is full of a lot of weirdos. Like me.

This card was also a big seller:

And that tells me that Minneapolis is full of a lot of moral ambiguity.

That reminds me! We had a snowstorm on Friday!

Luckily nobody had to eat anyone else to survive. Whew, right? That would not have been great for sales.