Blog - Christmas card

I heard (via Facebook) we had a lot of snow last week but I don’t know what to believe because I locked myself in my bedroom and closed the… how do you say?? Blankets… on the windows?? Oh, BLINDS. Sunshine and warm weather only leads to selfish behavior and I’d much rather spend my days emailing Jen and the Intern about the Spring release and organizing my tax documents. Spoiler Alert: we chose 12 cards and my tax guy wept with joy when he received my paperwork. (But through his tears, he mumbled something about me being second to none.) 

Before my self-imposed deadline arrives, I have time to disclose the two cards that nearly made me exit my cloistered life:

Oh, and despite my other critical obligations, I managed to do some pro bono (Latin for dope) work for a worthy cause: Putting together a podcast for the fine folks at The MS Gym. Anyway, I know what you’re thinking, it’s about time she learned about RSSs and XMLs.

I’ve already not been murdered by a Craigslist poster selling firewood and done (most) of my Christmas Shopping via Amazon. If I were born 50 years earlier my house would be freezing and my kids would cry hearty tears on Christmas Morning. I can only praise newborn baby Jesus for my easy-peasy life. (Sorry that when He grew up He had to be tortured and die and stuff.)

ANYWAY, the fire is roaring and UPS is delivering whatever my warm-ish heart desires. Isn’t that what this Season is all about?? Between my online-obsession and stoking the fire, I channeled some important words spoken by the Virgin Mary:

I spend my days and nights writing and designing… Feverish and barely stopping to eat, I create.

If only I had my own Antonio Salieri. IF ONLY. I wrote a Christmas card. Or whatever.

Sometimes Millie puts her face right up to my face and her breath is so bad it fills me with rage. SPEAKING OF SMELLS, the third floor of my second apartment reeked of body odor (not mine) and potato curry, and every day I trudged down the hallway with a fat newborn and a backpack full of dreams. And that was how I crushed the Spring of 1992.

2016 is almost over but who’s still laughing? ME. That’s right, I may be surrounded by bad smells and bad news but I’m still on top. Here is my (perhaps) last Christmas card of the year:

Oh, No Coast Craft-o-Rama… You never let us down! The Midtown Market’s halls were decked and bedazzled with all things Holiday… And handmade goodness was traded for cold-hard-cash.

The Zeichen Press Empire is always draped in black fabric because black is slimming.

Here’s a new Christmas card/fantasy?:

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).

Dear Scary Santa,

How is Mrs. Scary Santa? How are the reindeer? That’s nice.

Could you please bring us our own architectural firm? Just like Mr. Brady from the Brady Bunch?

He’s always making models in the den and walking around with rolled-up blueprints. It looks like so much fun. PLUS, we would totally take care of it. We figured out the best name for it:

Tanek.

Get it?

It’s our names! Spelled backwards!!

Anyway, we’ll let you get back to working with the elves.

From,

Ken & Nat