The school volleyball season is over. The fee that was due in September was paid on the final day, as I scrambled to sell all of the pizza coupons that were buried in my daughter’s backpack (along with the letter explaining the $100 activity fee, an open container of old chocolate pudding, and three socks).
Quinn has been sitting next to me all afternoon, wearing a shark costume that is three sizes too small, making paintings of the beach:
I have, apparently, given birth to the reincarnation of Rothko, which is especially cool because I am pretty certain Mark Rothko did not play volleyball and never needed to sell things like cheesecakes and popcorn for profit (unless, maybe, Quinn is dreaming of beach volleyball, in which case, damn).
Club season is around the corner and gosh darn it all, I do not want to sell more pizzas. Should, ideally, my daughter be doing the selling? Yes. Is that how it works? If you answered yes, you have less than two children or no children at all.
I have spent my day making the annual collection of greeting cards that I like to pretend replace the need for me to stuff my minivan with frozen cheesecakes and cardboard pizzas and drive them to your homes in the middle of winter, exhausted, with a plastic smile on my face that really does mean “gratitude,” but screams, “fuck my life.”
On that lovely note of holiday cheer, I introduce to you the 2015 Winter Collection. If you are interested in purchasing a card or set of cards, please shoot me an email with your details or questions. I will be assembling cards for a few weeks, but promise to deliver them to you by turkey day. To be honest, making these got me out of worrying that my PPG (a teaching practice that encourages goals to have limits and measurements) was rejected, and helped me procrastinate opening that stupid form to redo it all.
Instead, I got to experience Sunday twirling watercolors on the tip of a brush, sipping tea, and filling my mind with images of you all, opening really fun mail on a day that was otherwise heavy. I imagined joy.
All cards are 4.5″x6.25″ and are mailed with a white envelope. Cards are $5.00 each or $40 for a set of ten (you can mix and match).
Orders can be placed by emailing me at firstname.lastname@example.org.