Blog - letterpress greeting cards

But how can I be tame when I am thrust into such an atmosphere? I have only one thing to say:

I can’t believe she doesn’t see me!…

I’M IN THE HOT AIR BALLOON FLOATING OVER YOU AND MARTHA!!

I knew it… She is walking to the mailbox to send a Zeichen Press card!

She ordered a bunch from our online shop, but due to doctor/patient (I’m the doctor in this scenario) confidentiality, I cannot divulge which cards she chose.

I CAN tell you that she is concerned about a funny-looking mole on her mom’s bottom.

Some kittens are sociopathic — everyone knows that. Do not be fooled by their charm! Beneath that furry, purring coat lies a circuit board of complex manipulation.

I’ve heard some successful rehabilitation stories but if you, or someone you know, lives with one of these creatures, it might be better to abandon it on the side of a highway.

I complain about January, but secretly, I love it. In January, my skin returns to its natural pasty-white color. I know this because I disrobe weekly for a quick shower and pat myself down with a damp towel. That’s not true, I also see my bare legs as I change from my pajama pants to my less-pajama-ish pants.

But enough about my enchanting facade, onto the chewy nougat:

Jen has almost finished printing the cards for our March Release.I can’t wait for her to be finished because then we can get back to all of our gabbing.

While I am forced to sit quietly with my own thoughts, I decided to be productive — I made two new cards: Guess which one will become an uncategorized orphan:

The Long Winter is the true tale of a Minnesota family surviving one of the most brutal Winters in our recorded history. Trapped in the house – day after day after day – the blizzard makes it impossible to see out the window or even walk out to the barn without getting lost. Good ol’ Pa rigs up a rope to follow, he is always coming up with some creative solution! Ma follows that rope because Pa finds himself trapped in a ditch by the creek. The wood pile dwindles to nothing and the family is forced to twist hay into little bundles – they would burn these in the cast-iron stove to heat their little house. … Tough, brown bread is the only food left to eat.

Or is it?

What if that was on the jacket flap? I’d totally read that book.