Lovelihood

I've done my time in office environments. There are times I actually miss the structure, camaraderie, and ready access to vending machines. And there are days the kids have me so haggard I would actually prefer the company of a receptionist with anger management issues or even, dare I say it, sales people. On the other hand, there are the postscript errors generated by outdated computers that a skinflint newspaper company refuses to upgrade, the harried requests for work on spec that seemingly need to be completed before work for paying clients, the misguided idea that anything good has ever come out of a meeting.  Thankfully, these are no longer vignettes in my day-to-day life. On the list of things I relish about not having officemates is the lack of going away/birthday/wedding/generally congratulatory cards floating around my workspace that obligate me to conceive something sweet and pithy for someone I only half care about. 

Unfortunately, this uncongeniality towards cards has carried on to our personal greeting-sending. In past years, our commitment to holiday card posting has been full of intention, short of actualization. We have, squirreled away with our wrapping accoutrements, boxes of greeting cards, some cute, some sweet, some poignant, some with monkeys, most unopened. There were a few stand-out years when we actually managed to sit ourselves down at the dining table and, with zombie-like concentration, dash out a few signatures and addresses and semi-personalized messages. Most years, we're happy if we manage to toss in a hastily signed card with our outgoing holiday packages.

Last year, deciding on a new tack, I designed and Gocco-printed up our own cards, and somehow that motivated us to actually fill them out and get them delivered. Probably because once you Gocco something, it NEEDS to be sent out into the world. Otherwise, it'd just be a big ol' waste of screens and bulbs and inks, all finite resources in this post-Gocco economy. And I did the same for this year, printing onto some of that paperboard I've been hoarding. I love how the paper takes the ink, keeping lines crisp and color rich. Last year's cards were printed onto watercolor paper, which resulted in bleedy prints, the ink sending out little tendrils into the paper fibers, an effect I didn't entirely mind. Still, I like these better. The kraft paper look appeals to me. And there are little variances in color and texture that lend it a natural interest and offer the ink something to catch against. Gocco and paperboard are a happily natural fit.

To solve for the lack of copy-space on the inside of the cards, with images of organic cereal Os and all, I attached a small envelope to tuck away photographic goodies for family. And maybe one of those ornaments we made up last week. And maybe some other flat-ish token for those people who wouldn't necessarily squeal in delight at a chance to own a picture of our children, ablur from the incurable inability to both be still for the split second it takes to snap a photograph. On the facing side, we'll attach a greeting or family message of some sort, printed onto the vellum cardstock we've had stashed away since we printed our wedding invitations ten years ago. The vellum's translucence allows some of the packaging imagery to show through, which makes it fun, I think. No sense trying to disguise the fact that these cards once held our breakfast makings. 

So, yeah, I'm pretty excited about sending these out this year. Now to compile the little goodies to fill those little envelopes.