Posts in Winter
Counting is not as easy as it looks. The intern and I had to count cards (we love to gamble) for a big Kate’s Paperie order.
Holiday cards in June?My life is an endless sacrifice.
All of that counting tasted terrible, and so to cleanse her palette, the intern put a lot of ampersands together. That looked exactly like this:And because I need attention, I made this:See, it’s a profound cultural statement? DO YOU SEE?!
That sounds delicious!
If Spring would come I wouldn’t be forced to sit here and email sell sheets to hundreds of newspapers around the country. I won’t complain about the weather because that’s about as interesting as listening to someone list their health problems. But I WILL say this:
If I lived in Hawaii, there’d be no Zeichen Press.
See, I can always find the blessing in disguise.Oh fine, here’s a new card — inspired by the endless Winter:
The woman gazes through her window. A window covered in dog-drool, a window with a view of only one season: Winter. She stares, slack-jawed, at the slow parade of life.
There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area we call the Twilight Zone.
Jen was part of a dangerous expedition
New product was added to the shop and I can’t help but wonder which cards will sell well… will they be sheep-related?:Or not?
That’s the sound that March makes — that and a muffled sobbing. February triggers cabin fever but March in Minnesota is far more dangerous.
Here’s a story about March: One Christmas, Santa put a baby albino rabbit under the tree — so delightful!
The little rabbit grew into a big rabbit and by the next Winter, our basement smelled like the bunny barn at the State Fair. With scraps of wood and a bale of hay, I built an outdoor rabbit hutch.
In a pinch, it could serve as a coffin for an adult man.
IN A PINCH.
By March it was buried under several feet of snow and I’d order my eldest to go spend time with the rabbit in the snow coffin.
The moral of the story is: Get a dog.
And something about March creating crazy. Thank God I have an outlet for my March crazy:
Look who I found in front of Zeichen Press HQ!
First the squirrels and then the bear AND NOW THIS?!
And it can be done from the comfort of your own home!
If you’re like me (don’t worry, you’re not) you don’t like to “leave” your house or “go” anywhere.
World Domination will be yours as long as you have these three things:
3) Forever Lazy Suit
We just picked up a new rep for the Virginia and West Virginia territories (that’s right, TERRITORIES. Like a gang.)
And we hope we don’t scare him away with our love for Franimals and wine.
**Spoiler Alert** Zeichen Press triumphed over Twenty-Twelve.
At times, the year was a nail-biter: will 2012 take it’s boot off of Zeichen Press’s face?… Will 2012 stop hitting Zeichen Press with a folding chair?… Yes and YES.
And as Zeichen Press says adieu to this Year Of Pestilence, Zeichen Press welcomes Twenty-Thirteen — welcomes it the way a mother welcomes the news of another pregnancy. The gift of amnesia is powerful and we are grateful for it. I’m wrapping up the year, as usual, in Brainerd, Minnesota. The temperature is hovering around a balmy 0° and as the supplies dwindle to beer and bacon, we are considering sending the children to town for chocolate and dvd’s. And medical marijuana.
I welcome the extra-ordinary. In fact, I am hyper-vigilant and ever-watchful for signs of miraculous happenings.
I ate two pounds of filet mignon on Christmas Eve and I’m pretty sure that was a miracle. It felt like a miracle — béarnaise sauce drizzled over huge hunks of very rare cow flesh doesn’t happen every day.I love Christmas Miracles, they are the most powerful kind of miracle — A change of heart is better than filet mignon and antlers growing out of a dog’s head is, perhaps, the most miraculous of all.
Jen did say I couldn’t make any more Christmas cards but I squeezed this one past her because she is a sucker for dogs and because I threw her computer in a snowbank.
It’s almost January and you know what that means: It’s time to wash my Smart Wool socks. And celebrate Christmas.
Jen told me I can’t write anymore Christmas or Chanukah cards. After I egged her face, I wrote a Get Well card: