Posts in True Story

GIMME A Z! GIMME AN E! GIMME AN I! GIMME A C! GIMME AN H! GIMME ANOTHER E! GIMME AN N!

published by Fran Shea

WHAT DOES THAT SPELL??

ZEICHEN!!

Right??

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:

Business as usual

published by Fran Shea

Remember when you were three years old and and ran down a hill and lost control of your legs and ran straight into a wooden post that holds up the picnic pavilion?

No??

My forehead wanted to meet that 4×4 so bad and who am I to stand in the way of destiny?? I don’t pretend to understand the stars! Wait, I do! I do try to understand the stars!

While Jen is on the Cape, and between my sobs because I miss her so much, the Intern and I box up orders. 

But what about that head-injury?? Hush your sweet mouth and spend the next ten minutes wondering why I am so in tune with the cosmos.

Home again, Home again, Jiggety-Jog

published by Fran Shea

I sampled purgatory (again)… this time at Logan airport. I guess if I was jogging in place for five hours I’d like to be blasted with cold air from a ceiling vent. And if I wanted to watch a Surrealist film, I would have used my precious data and Boingo wifi to stream Volume I of the Anthology of Surreal Cinema on Netflix.

But like a group of shipwrecked strangers, bobbing in a life raft in the middle of the Atlantic, we were trapped together. Trapped and forced to watch a grown woman giving life to a humanoid using only her bare hands.

Anyway, flight 244 may have been delayed but it took off with little fanfare. Passengers boarded like zombies, sans bloody mouths.

I wish I would have thanked that needle-felting woman and I’ll probably never see again, but I’ll never forget her.

Here is a thank you card that has nothing to do with her or the travel odyssey.

 

 

Don’t Stop Believing

published by Fran Shea

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! 

 

 

Pater Noster, n’stuff

published by Fran Shea

Hail battered my window AC and woke me up just in time for The Apocalypse.

But luckily it wasn’t THE Apocalypse because I didn’t have my Doomsday Bunker prepared. So I used an old blanket to mop up the ten gallons of rain that blew through windows-I-forgot-to-shut. It felt anti-climactic.

The Almost-Apocolypse was followed by a heatwave so I hunkered down in my air-conditioned cell and made a couple of Father’s Day cards because Father’s Day is coming up and I LOVE DADS!

Omen Observance

published by Fran Shea

I know we made it through another winter because I can hear the toads mating and my neighbor snoring. City-life is so full of intrigue! Who knows, this hawk

could be guilty of butchering all those baby bunnies?? Why am I so quick to blame my domesticated house pets??

Anyway, it’s almost June and that reminds me that school is almost over. 🙂

Party Like It’s 1992

published by Fran Shea

February 7, 1992 • 1:10 a.m.

Did I just wet my pants a little bit?? No… I am, like, totally, 42 weeks pregnant… That has to be my water breaking… 

AND THUS BEGAN MY ILLUSTRIOUS CAREER OF MOTHERHOOD.

That baby turned 25 the other day and despite the challenges (super-poor, a string of stalkers, household hygiene issues, pretending to be a graphic designer/art directormore babies, homeschoolingFran Shea’s Cat Ranch, and Zeichen Press) he still tolerates me.

#blessed

I made a birthday card and I’ll show it to him after I explain where babies come from.

Oh, and SPEAKING OF BIRTHDAYS, RSVP licensed more of our art.