Blog - New Cards

Don’t you hate looking at photographs when you’re not in them?

Me too!

Oh, and I made this for my gals.

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:

With the warm weather comes mating animals and flies covering the shop windows.And nothing else. NOTHING ELSE.

One might ask, “I wonder why that window is so filthy?” And another might respond, “Shhh, just close your eyes while I slowly and firmly place this pillow over your face…”

There.

Now, onto the flies. I did all the research and learned that these are no ordinary flies. The internet told me that they are called Cluster Flies, so I vacuumed them up and made this card:

I think Tib The Cat is pregnant. I could have (should have?) put a stop to the coitus, but who am I to stand in the way of true love? WHO AM I? Wait, was that really true love??Hmm… Zoom… Enhance…GOOD LORD.

Speaking of Father’s Day…Oh, and did this Father’s Day card ever make it on the blog? (Winky-face.)PS: Apparently my SEO success could be better if I mention letterpress-related words IN my blog posts. Words like: tactile, vintage press, printing, ink, paper, mangled hand.

Sometimes (oftentimes) I wake in the middle of the night and tap messages to myself on my iPhone.

For example (and I quote): 

“I just want to eat gobstoppers and take rearview mirror selfies… William Shatner in gladiator costume on 40′ stilts… A young Ben Franklin with a head full of dreams and a heart full of hate… Bromeo & Juliet… You Are Here –>brain…”

Upon thoroughly waking, my task is to decode this nocturnal rambling.

Sometimes I am successful.

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?

(((flashback)))

My husband was on a business trip, and that meant it was time for one or more of the kids to get the stomach flu. Because we love tradition, the youngest barfed in her own bath water. While I was cleaning that up, and not to be outdone, the middle one inhaled and regurgitated his macaroni & cheese right back on the plate.

The older one slunk away.

While I was cleaning that up, and unbeknownst to me, the cat coughed up a slimy hair-ball. I stepped on it (barefoot).

While I stood on one foot, crying, the dog came over and licked it up.

The End

By age nine, I would delicately,

with my right hand, fold down the sharp fins of a Sunfish.

Why? 

So I could use my left hand to insert the rusty pliars into the gasping mouth of my catch to retrieve the swallowed hook.

If I was lucky.

If I wasn’t lucky, I’d stare at my motionless bobber for hours.

*Some backstory: My older brother (third of eight) allowed me to fish with him if I did whatever he said, and didn’t cry. He was SERIOUS about fishing. I had glasses and greasy blonde hair.

**Some backstory about the backstory: My brother was born in September, and I was already a sprouted seed in our Mom’s belly by the next Summer.

I think I’ve used the bobber-watching metaphor before, but it is APT. Everyday, I wait for my agent to tell me to get the rusty pliars.

Why doesn’t he ever tell me to get the rusty pliars??

He just tells me to “hang in there.”Oh, back to my Mom… She has 22 grandkids. This is her with the latest:HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!

I’ve heard that we are only prescribed challenges tailored to fit our deficiencies. I don’t really have any deficiencies so I’ve just been row-row-rowing my boat, gently down the stream.

But poor Jen spent the week hunting for bedbugs (that’s what she gets for going to Turkey) that turned out to be fleas. 

It took six flea-bombs and one hijab to properly fumigate.Doesn’t Henry look ashamed?

Doesn’t Jen’s forehead look youthful?? I photoshop-botoxed it! AND saved her $200.

She’ll thank me later.

While she was busy meeting her prescribed challenge (I pray that she learned her lesson), *I* was busy nobly accepting rejections for The Book.Eight rejections so far… twelve still unresponsive. But don’t worry about me, I LOVE waiting, and see rejection as an opportunity to grow as a person.

SPEAKING OF MOTHER’S DAY, here’s a new card: