Blog - greeting cards

Winter was saving one last blizzard for the weak but I escaped by hiding under the bed and burying my face in my hands.

I’m not into conspiracies but as soon as I paid my taxes, the sun came out and it was time (for Jen and the Intern) to print and for us to choose paper and envelope colors. Tib the Cat just wanted to be part of it but the Intern held her back with a freshly printed card while we convinced her to not show fear because as soon as Tib senses fear, she attacks.

We watched one woman take control of the situation. It was pretty amazing.

AND THEN, another amazing thing happened…

I donned my favorite costume (a witch) and redesigned a card with the help of the Zeichen Press Team:  (Millie, Tib, and Dinah. I’M KIDDING!) Jen and the Project Manager aka The Intern!

I asked them to also put on costumes and despite their icy stares, I know they love me.)

Here’s the card: Coming this Spring to a shop near you!

Oh, I KID! I love hearing the signs of Spring! Cawing crow and distant chainsaw, I HEAR YOU. I also see the sun setting later, like it’s November, BUT IT ISN’T. If Winter were actually a six-month marathon, I’d shove so much grain-free chips and guacamole in my fanny pack, stock my running-bandolier with a variety of hydration gels and, ONCE AGAIN, salute the outdoors for being a worthy adversary.

But that’s silly! Guacamole would turn brown and my chips would get stale! I will just stream movies, write cards, and fashion the hair I pull off my sweater into a wreath. 

I scream that repeatedly the morning after a substantial snowfall – it’s really helpful and my family appreciates it so much.

When I’m done warning everyone on my block, I always feel inspired:

Is it wrong that I was more concerned about getting a good photograph of today’s event than of my house being engulfed in flames?

And why was the fireman so happy?

I guess he just loves the outdoors as much as I do! -12° makes me smile and laugh, too — and I’m not even a sociopath!

After the smoke cleared (LITERALLY), I made a Valentine’s Day card and called 911 to give it to him:

FINGERS CROSSED.

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.

Amid controversy and drama (will Jen and Fran ever non-violently agree on paper and envelope colors??

Will the Intern and Tib the Cat ever get along??

WILL FRAN’S MOM EVER STOP LOOKING LIKE FRAN IN 1979/Will Fran ever stop looking in the mirror???)

the New Release is finally done and will be added to the line as soon as I’m done looking in the mirror.

Now that Jen and I are savvy businesswomen we know what it means to write something off and it turns out you cannot write off costumes and puppets, even if they are used for self-expression?? Thank God for our tax guy or we’d be in a Dickensian debtors prison.

Speaking of handfuls of money, I need to get back to writing/designing cards for our next release. Quit trying to distract me with wildfires and Lifetime movies.

Franmas has come and gone and was filled with begging 

and mandatory/all-day posing.

**Not pictured: Flaming effigy/piñata the kids made of/for me.**

After I took this photo, we all laughed and shared a bar of 89% cacao, its whisper of sweetness brought us closer together. And the birthday celebration lasted longer than just 24 hours because the very next day Jen and I started printing the Spring Release!

Our telepathic communication is less fun than it used to be so we started using very subtle mumbling and facial expressions to share feelings of disgust or acceptance when choosing paper and envelopes.

While Jen prints, I conduct important research and send her texts.

Even though she doesn’t respond, I know she nods her head, files the information away, and appreciates it very much. She never sees me mouth the words, “You’re welcome.”

February 7, 1992 • 1:10 a.m.

Did I just wet my pants a little bit?? No… I am, like, totally, 42 weeks pregnant… That has to be my water breaking… 

AND THUS BEGAN MY ILLUSTRIOUS CAREER OF MOTHERHOOD.

That baby turned 25 the other day and despite the challenges (super-poor, a string of stalkers, household hygiene issues, pretending to be a graphic designer/art director, more babies, homeschooling, Fran Shea’s Cat Ranch, and Zeichen Press) he still tolerates me.

#blessed

I made a birthday card and I’ll show it to him after I explain where babies come from.

Oh, and SPEAKING OF BIRTHDAYS, RSVP licensed more of our art.

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: