Behold, I bring you Good Tidings Of Great Joy! - True Story

And like the Canadian Goose, she stayed. She stayed and embraced the cold, using her derriére to warm the waters of her pond.

And by derriére, I mean “bottom” and by waters of her pond, I mean “the Midtown Market.”

What?!

It’s time for the No-Coast Craft-o-Rama! TOMORROW (Friday, December 7 AND Saturday, December 8)!!

Here’s what I’ve done to get ready: That’s a full cord of wood that I ordered.

AND I made this card:Jen did everything else.

See you tomorrow!

xo,

Fran

A long, long time ago, when men roamed the wild, with sharp spears and heavy stones, a discovery was made: A charred nub-of-a-stick was scraped against the wall to create a picture, a representation of reality — why? 

The need to communicate visually is unique to humans (and some elephants).I wish I had a trunk.

Here’s what I need to communicate visually:

I was once one of them — an innocent amusement park customer. I looked down at them now, from the highest man-made point in Shakopee, Minnesota. I sighed and listened to the chug-chug-chugging from beneath our coaster — our lives depended on the integrity of a giant bicycle chain. Our open-casket hesitated for just a moment at the tippy-top of the steel summit — hesitated just enough for me to grasp the inevitable free-fall. And as we plummeted to our possible deaths, I screamed.

And wet my pants.

The End

How old was she?

Don’t judge me.

Obviously, I wasn’t born riding a roller coaster, I was born screaming. And wetting my pants.

*Hint: this photograph was taken close to the time of the event and **Double Hint: I’m not the baby.Speaking of literary themes, there is a lot (not really) to dissect in this new (Holiday/Winter Season?) card:

The newspaper is delivered to our doorstep each morning (by horse and buggy) and I comb through it — if I find a particularly odd/sad/absurd story, I read it aloud to whomever (the dog) is nearby.

Here is an abbreviated digest of the only (two) articles I remember from the past (two) months: (In alphabetical order)

1) Stratosphere jump by daredevil, Felix Baumgartner: In an attempt to break the world record, Felix jumped from a capsule suspended 23 miles above Roswell, New Mexico.

I plan on breaking that record when I get tired of this whole letterpress thing.

2) Talking elephant in South Korea loves Zeichen Press. Strange but true.

Crazy?! I know! Koshik’s trainer must $*#%-love Zeichen Press.

Enough time-wasting.

Here is a new Christmas card (available NEXT Christmas. Sorry).

The Winter Walk Home from school included two memorable rituals: Dipping our un-mittened hands in 25¢ Tom Thumb coffee (how old IS she?) and passing by a very high retaining wall.

The wall held up the yard of our enemies: Two freckle-faced, red-headed brothers. These boys went to a Public School and as if that isn’t bad enough, they took great pleasure in tormenting me.

I will remind you that this is what I looked like:

Why would anyone want to harm such a sweet creature?

Armed with boulders of snow, poised-and-ready atop the wall — they would wait. Down Vincent Avenue I trudged: snow-pants under my plaid skirt, grease-covered hand-me-down coat, knit cap with sheepskin earflaps.

Again, why would anyone want to harm such a sweet creature?

I won’t tell you the ending.

We had a dusting of snow the other day but I knew better than to break out the snow-pants and knit cap. It was merely a teaser, a preview, an appetizer, an AMUSE-GUEULE.

Speaking of snow, here’s a new card: 

Zeichen Press has never had a Wintertime Intern.

Until now.

I expect the new “intern” to make me laugh. It’s an important job. She also claims she will sort type and organize cards but we’ll see. WE’LL SEE.

In other news: I made ANOTHER Thinking Of You card. I thought and thought about what sort of message I’d like to receive if I were down-in-the-dumps, and I came up with this:My sister wanted me to show The-Softer-Side-Of-Fran, but all I could think of was Marshmallow Fluff® and then I just wanted to sit on the beach and pull hermit crabs out of their shells.

What is wrong with me?

But I did take French in high school so I know all about magnetephones, l’autobus, et la lunettes pour Luc.

For the foreseeable future, I will stay within a 30 mile radius of the Zeichen Press headquarters and dream of faraway lands.Feeling the need for a Field Trip, I went to the Other Side Of Minneapolis and visited Rex Mills. I walked through the front door, broke the tenth commandment, (You shall not covet – geez, get your mind out of the gutter) pretended I had something in my eye, snapped some photos, threw a drink in the owner’s face, stole five pounds of ink, and left.That man in the photograph is not the owner — Rex Mills has Press Operators.

I will kidnap him as soon as my taser gun arrives in the mail.

How To Play:

Witch

• Using a neighborhood approved selection method (engine, engine #9 — bubblegum, bubblegum in a dish, etc.) select The Witch.

• Use the same method to select a Guinea Pig.

• The remaining players are Runners.

• The Witch leads The Guinea Pig away. (This should be terrifying.) The Witch hides The Guinea Pig — not on the garage roof. (This might be tempting. Don’t do it.)

• The Witch gives (verbally) a list of tasks to The Guinea Pig — things like: A) Run around the house three times singing The Happy Birthday Song. B) Dig a hole, bury one June Bug in it. C) Fill a hat with decorative rocks from the neighbor’s garden, etc.

• At this point, The Witch must call out “ready-or-not!” from wherever he/she is waiting/hiding.

• The “tasks” given to the The Guinea Pig are meant to lure the Runners off their safe-base and into the waiting/hiding clutches of The Witch while searching for the hidden Guinea Pig.

• When/if any Runners are caught by The Witch, he or she turns them into Another Guinea Pig. Meaning: They are hidden and given a new list of tasks for The Runners to complete.

• When tasks are completed for a particular Pig, a Runner must free them by tagging. The Guinea Pig must run to the safe-base without being caught by The Witch.

• If The Runners successfully free The Guinea Pig(s), they win the game.

• If The Witch catches all of The Runners, she/he wins the game.

* If someone wets their pants during course of play, a “time-out” should be called and fresh pants should replace wet pants.

————-

In a bold (not really) and unprecedented (true) move, Zeichen Press will be offereing box sets of greeting cards that are not letterpress printed.

Hold your applause until the end.

We call this our Makeready Collection.

Why?

Letterpress printers (like us) need to test placement, packing, and color when printing something new. The same old piece of paper is printed on over and over again, resulting in an odd (and might I add, paranormal?) mishmash of goodness.

Our Makeready Collection imitates this letterpress printing practice using a computer and some other kind of printing. (Offset)

Here are the three designs: (Available for The New Year)

Did you know that the Arboretum has a pick-your-own vegetable garden? The signs were more intuitive than posted.

My latest health craze (the last one turned out not to be a “health” craze) promises an upward trajectory of boundless energy and crisply firing synapses. Kale, spinach, green chard, cucumber, celery, lemon, parsley, and apple in one glass.

In one glass.

I’ve learned that a bagful of smuggled kale equals one thimbleful of juice.

One thimbleful.

I wonder how many ounces I would be if I were juiced. Note to self: Juicing bodies would make them easier to flush down toilet.

Look at these beautiful Dahlias and forget everything I just said:Weren’t those lovely?

All of the flowers and vegetables inspired a Father’s Day card:

 I am all about efficiency. It’s one of the (two) things people love about me. If I can’t multi-task my way through a problem, it’s better left to a pre-schooler. I always say.

Yes, it’s an enviable quality; I can think about any number of things while I work on something else.

The neighbor that flipped me off called me the other night. She wanted to accuse my kids of egging her car. I told her that I egged her car. She couldn’t hear my confession because she was too busy talking about someone stealing Bounty Paper Towels from her backseat.

I thought about my conversation with her while I worked on some seahorses in photoshop. Here’s the thing/a little secret: Not every image comes to us as a perfect little mounted printer’s block. 

There are some that need finessing:I’m sure you knew that.

I feel like I have to apologize for the latest card.

I’m sorry.

Here it is, sss. (sorry so sappy)