Blog - True Story

Have I mentioned how much Millie The Dog barks at anything and everything within a 500 foot perimeter of our house? Mailman, delivery-person, solicitors, neighbors, guests, the kids, trick-or-treaters, my mom… We’ve talked a lot about it and she feels super responsible for alerting us – I told her that we really don’t need that kind of help, BUT WE DID. SHE WAS RIGHT. SHE’S ALWAYS RIGHT.

SO, my driveway was full of a dumpster filled with bathroom remodel debris, Millie was having a staycation with a friend, AND SOME JERK CLIPPED THE LOCK ON OUR SHED AND STOLE MY BIKE.And he threw the lock in the dirt like some sort of criminal.

AND THEN, the loser (no judgment) tried to sell MY bike on a site called OfferUp.com.

But he is as slippery as an eel wrapped in a banana peel, and disappeared INTO THE NIGHT. Police have been alerted, prayers to St. Anthony have been said. I asked St. Anthony if he could forward my prayers onto the Patron Saint of Stolen Goods and he told me to go back to sleep and stop Googling escutcheons for the new bathroom.

FINE.

While I wait for my miracle, I spend days mindlessly migrating ALL of the content from the Zeichen Press site to THE NEW Zeichen Press site. DON’T WORRY, you won’t even be able to tell the difference because we wanted to spend a lot of money on something that nobody notices.

OH, and Jen got some new/old cutsso I made a Father’s Day Card out of that little man.BACK TO MIGRATING/WEEPING.

Everyone celebrates Jenmas Eve differently.*I* like to go to Hot Plate SANS Jen to eat a Mexican Omelet surrounded by a gallery of paint-by-number masterpieces.

YEARS AGO, Jen (carefully) slaved away over *her* masterpiece and it sits atop a shelf of knick-knacks in Cape Cod. 

She was so dedicated! 

I bet she knew that someday I’d repay her in birthday cards.

The Art Licensor (RSVP) asked us for some birthday cards and because I love to work/need money, I made nine. I won’t bore you with the details/need to get back to listening to my new podcast (My Favorite Murder).

Here are a few… Will they choose any???

Stay tuned.

Thank you, Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark. I can’t wait until Alexis Stewart and I meet you in person!

“What street is this??” I yelled up to the boy watching us float past him. He told me that we were just about to enter the Ninth Circle of Hell.

PHEW! Almost done!

Three hours to travel 2.5 miles… Could we have walked faster than the creek carried us? Oh, THAT’S the point my kids were making when they got out of their tubes and dragged them the last four blocks! Oh, kids! So subtle!

I didn’t get a photograph of them on our adventure, BUT a giant spider landed on my belly! AND who needs a picture of all three when one of them modeled for the company that made our tubes?

(Grip those handles! Safety first, Dylan!)

I only thought the creek-pollution caused blindness one time and I only lost my sunglasses one time — I’d call that a win!

Here’s a card, maybe inspired by laughter-induced bladder incontinence. MAYBE NOT.

This isn’t the first time I blamed The Cats for a crime they didn’t commit.

Nor will it be the last. The odor of rotten animal is unforgettable and like the odor of rotting potato, it is embedded in the brain. But sometimes the brain jumbles the smell of decomposing rodent with the smell of a blanket of maggots coating the bottom of the garbage can.

And that is where my story begins…

The Summer Breeze gently wafted through the upstairs windows. It was pleasant, until an occasional repulsive odor stung my nostrils. I blamed The Cats for hunting, killing, and hiding their prey somewhere on my second floor.

But a search for a body was in vain and a garbage can investigation led me to the real suspect: that damn blanket of maggots coating the bottom of the garbage can!

Mea culpa, Tib!  When will I ever trust you again??

Speaking of breezes (and puns??)… Here’s a new thank you/congratulations card.

Jen’s in Austria because she loves gazebos.The Intern (Madge) is in Italy because she loves dreamy landscapes.And I am here because I love the smell of flooded basements. Is that asbestos tile??

Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. See how we just throw caution to the wind over here?? I almost forgot what the floor looked like under 1,000 lbs of soaked carpet! And that was my lesson about not taking things for granted.

Between all that lesson-learnin’, I made a new card.Don’t hurry home guys!

Remember last year when my lung collapsed and my mom had to sleep on a cot in my dingy bedroom so she could walk me to the bathroom in the middle of the night?And EMTs had to come to that same dingy bedroom, on that very same night, because we thought my chest-tube had fallen out?

No?

I know you’re wondering if the EMTs were cute and why my bedroom was so dingy. Um, my mom volunteered to be their Resusci Annie doll and I’ve been a little too busy building the Zeichen Press Empire to focus on home-making frivolity.

But, between choosing paper/envelopes for the Spring Release and conquering territories, I did refresh my bedroom. And now I see no reason to ever leave it.Choosing paint color is just like choosing ink color. But with less Jen and more anxiety.

Speaking of self-medicating (was I?) here’s a Spring Release teaser (see/buy ALL 12 from the shop!):

After coughing the web of mucus from my throat, it was time to choose paper and envelope colors for the Spring Release.Dinah told me later that she was plotting my murder while I took this photo.

Oh, Dinah! What will make you snap?!

Wait, tell us more about the web of mucus!

No! No more. Onto more important things.

Like frogs im Deutschland.Who needs pants when you have legs like that? Amiright??

Miss Sherman was our 5th grade music teacher and aside from corporeal punishment and unruly hair, she was perfect. Every week, students were encouraged to bring in their favorite record album. And because lessons are best learned through repeated humiliation (read about First Picture Day at my new school), I brought in my favorite album.

…I wonder what the other kids brought! This is SO much fun!

…Wait…

Michael Jackson, Off The Wall…

The Cars, Panorama??…

Oh, Kermit! Nobody understands us/Miss Sherman forgot to call on me/oh look, this record barely sticks out between my stack of books/these darn Fall allergies make my eyes water!

I wouldn’t tell my mom about this while I stood by the piano as she played folk songs and I sang my little heart out. I WOULDN’T.

What I’m trying to say is that Jen and I picked cards for our Spring Release.

Here’s a teaser:

One of our many cats had chronic diarrhea. We kept her around because she produced litter after litter of adorable white kittens.

And because coming home was always a surprise — where would we find her poop today?? In the mitten-bin… in the laundry basket… under my daughter’s pillow??

Life is so full of surprises!

Like, when the vet called to say she died after he removed her ovaries. SURPRISE! Oh, but now she doesn’t send us on poop-hunts, because she’s buried in a shallow grave in the backyard.

First life zigs, and then it zags!