Blog - birthday card

Our 1983 Field Trip to the Art Institute ended tragically when some naughty eighth-grade boys smuggled in their skateboards and much to the museum docents dismay, rode them up and down the herringbone wood-floored hallways. These same boys also smoked cigarettes and at least one of them had a super-tall mohawk… Lucky for everyone, I looked like this:

My Mom threw caution to the wind and signed ANOTHER permission slip for me the very next year. This time it was to Como Zoo/Park. I made sure to pack my tunafish sandwich and wrap my Shasta in tinfoil just like my sister. It went off without a hitch. For me. One boy in our class was not so fortunate because he decided to avoid the gate and slipped while climbing over the pointy, cast-iron fence. His corduroy pants and bottom were never the same… He walked around holding his derriere and I was, of course, scandalized.

Speaking of school… I made some graduation cards:

And speaking of Field Trips… without permission slips (WHAT??), Lucy and I went to the Arboretum yesterday with Aunt Clare to see the Dahlias and have a picnic. (WITH NO SHASTA?!) Also, we saw Edward Scissorhands stumble out of this grapevine-creation:

And PER TRADITION, I made Jen a birthday card and PER TRADITION we avoided seeing each other. DON’T BE JEALOUS!! 

Before Cape Cod (could that be the most irritating thing I’ve ever written?? MAYBE), summer days were spent “building” backyard forts, floating to the middle of Lake Calhoun in an orange rubber raft (sans life jackets), stubbing big toes while walking to the beach, and selling Kool-Aid in front of our neighbor’s house to thirsty-passersby.

I don’t remember seeing a nickel of the profit, but I didn’t even care because I didn’t even know what money was for anyway and I looked like this:

Fast-forward 40 years to these kids selling LEMONADE across the street from our house and I’m pretty sure their parents were a part of the whole thing. I mean, look at that professional signage.

I bet none of these girls even wears a neighbor’s hand-me-down unitard for a swimsuit! I’m going to give this birthday card to one of them so they really understand life before it’s too late.

I’m sure their parents will thank me.

Sunset on the Cape SANS Jen… WISH YOU WERE HERE!But she’s probably pulling orders and thinking of me just like Fievel in American Tail.

Oh, but I DID wipe my tears long enough to make her a birthday card!

Silly business men! Just ask your secretary to figure out that stuff!

There were no coats to push aside, no snow, no Mr. Tumnus, no White Witch… Just a regular bedroom door, a heated terrazzo floor, twin sinks, and His and Hers glass cups ready for dentures. My Grandparent’s bedroom was entered by Invitation Only and was filled with so many curiosities… I remember asking my Grandma if she loved raspberries as much as I did and she told me she couldn’t eat them because the tiny seeds got stuck in her dentures… I felt like that was the saddest thing I had ever heard and that she was truly a martyr.

Here she is with all her own teeth:

It’s a good thing my Grandpa had his pens with him because you just never know.

The old newspapers the Intern gave me are a treasure-trove of graphics

and full of hard-hitting local stories…

Whaaat?? Mr. Therien never used his sick leave??

Is it sad that Millie only has two baths per year? Maybe. 

But when she gets too unpleasant to be around, I know it’s time to release our Spring cards, AND she is shorn like a sheep on the English countryside!Speaking of the English countryside, I had to watch an entire season of Escape to the Country on Netflix

so I could pretend their expansive views were mine.

It worked!! AND after I had properly brainwashed myself, I even added the new cards to the shop! 12 goodies! Go buy some!!

I don’t always (usually) (ever?) do what I’m told but when our New England rep said she wanted MORE BIRTHDAY CARDS and less Freaktastic,

I said, FINE. After crying myself to sleep, I woke up and made this:

I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY, PAM.

Three easy steps!

1. 1. Go to the drugstore.
2. 2. Buy readers.
3. 3. Read the last line of this card.

Discovering Instacart might change my life.These modern services enable my dwindling desire to engage with the outside world.

IN JANUARY. IN MINNESOTA.

And why should I leave my house when Millie the Dog is learning to speak Human?

If only the shop were actually connected to my house.Just look at that commute! Ridiculous.

Or… inspiring? It must be inspiring because I made this.

I’m not sure if he was gently curb-stomped, or he bit into a fresh apple. Either way, he lost his front teeth.

Did I even see Jen on her birthday last week??

Hmm, I don’t think so… But I still made her a card because my love for her just bubbles over and soils the stovetop with a sort of gravy that becomes crusty and has to be scraped off months later with steel wool and maybe a knife.

Whew!

That’s a lot of love!GET IT?!?! CAT-SUP???

Omg, it just doesn’t stop over here!