Mailart 365 has moved

Of course, one can't party hardy if one doesn't have a designated driver, and Max and Carlota certainly knew how to rig out the party van. The message on the back of this one is "private coach ... the hubcaps were silver."

I think this drink is called "Side Car" because after one of them, you are on your side in the car.

And here he is, in all his glory, Emperor Maximilian. The handwritten message on the back notes that he "ruled Mexico many years ago." Yes ... about 150 years ago. But, when this postcard was bought, and the message on the back written, it was probably only 100 years ago.

The festive, fruity Whiskey Fix seemed a good choice for dear Max.

The best thing about the vintage Mexican postcards I used for this series ... they come with pre-written messages on the back. Just a little message, written by the original owner. I don't know the person who wrote the messages ... I got these cards from someone else who found them at a thrift shop. This one has "Carlota, wife of the Emperor Maximilian" written on the back. There's still plenty of room for me to write a message of my own, and the address side is completely empty. I guess the note was just to remind the original owner about his/her trip to Mexico.

My grandmother, who rarely drank alcohol, was quite partial to Pink Lady cocktails when she did drink. Raw egg and alcohol ... yikes.

I've been doing sets of cards the last week or so, and I've been thinking about Mim's question on IUOMA about our "default" style.

There are days, many days, when I wish I had a default ... something I know will work. But something that works for me one day may completely fail the next. I would love to be able to create many pieces of mailart in one sitting (and that would sure help the current six month backlog of owed mailart!), but I usually only make one piece of mailart a day, even after 200 days of making mailart a habit.

The sets I've done in the last week were planned in advance and I knew I had the materials for exactly three of each. I guess part of the reason I don't make more than one piece of mailart a day is because I'm not particularly spontaneous. I used to think I was, but when I look at how I plan out my correspondence (I know exactly which notecard/postcard/stationery I will use to reply to someone about a month before the reply is actually written), I realize I am not at all spontaneous.

Ah well ... I enjoy my one piece of mailart a day, and I guess that is all that matters.

Today's Ice-O-Mat is a fancy electric one that seems like it would be a rather complicated, and potentially dangerous, method for crushing ice. The first paragraph notes, "Pilot light should light." Pilot light? This thing required a flame to crush ice. It should come with a warning to keep alcoholic beverages at a safe distance.

This is a 1950s appliance that I would love, love, love to have in my kitchen. I think it is manually operated, so I could crush ice even if there was no electricity. Of course, if there was no electricity, my ice would be turning to water very quickly, so I would have to be drinking lots of beverages with crushed ice very quickly. I don't think that would be a problem.

I need to write a blog that features one paint chip color a day. I love clever paint chip names. There is no way in hell Greg would allow me to paint any surface of our house in this shade of pink, but if I could, I would, just for the name. I'd only do one wall ... the one that most resembles a squarish paint chip ... and I'd round the corners using molding and I'd letter the name of the paint chip at the top, complete with the number. Actually, I like to use this idea in every room of my house ... one wall in each room painted to look like a giant paint chip. Thankfully, Greg has more interior design taste than I.

This day-glo pink beverage reminds me of the strawberry milk I used to love as a kid. Yikes. Maybe that's what warped my sense of design.

The picture looks like a mother/daughter get-together, which was appropriate last week since I was getting ready to head up to Boston, Massachusetts, to visit my two daughters. I would be the coffee drinker, and my daughters like tea. Although, I think I could easily convince my younger daughter to enjoy coffee more if I lived up there.

I'm catching up on scanning all the mailart I've made in the last week or so. I'm home now, but still a bit behind on most everything.

It's just a sticker, paint chip and some cardstock, but this postcard thrills me.

It is still before noon here, just barely. But, since pineapple is a fruit, and good for me, and vodka is made of grain, and grains are also good for me, I figure, what the hell. Time for a lovely pineapple (and grain) beverage.

We got an odd catalog yesterday, which immediately became mailart material. Silly fancy furniture, made cheap, and marketed in a glossy format that makes it look expensive. The tub o' limes on the table is just so ridiculous. It reminds me of pictures on the very funny Catalog Living site.

I wanted to post this last night, but with all the dancing and drinking at the palace, well, you know how it is.

The only television show we catch without fail is Amazing Race (we do watch Fringe, but mostly online). I would love to be a contestant, but I'd fail completely with any task involving being 10 feet off solid ground. Oddly, even though I'm a vegetarian, I could eat anything they threw at me. But heights, no way.

This is the second of the required "ransom" postcards for Swap Bot. It is a bit harder to read the message on this one because the background is so busy. I bought the Snapple because of its link to Amazing Race. I don't drink this stuff, however, it is muggy tonight. Red wine isn't cutting it. I may just break open the last of the Snapples and put some rum in it.

As we begin this week of royal festivities, fraught with frocks and overwrought whispers, I thought I'd add my two pence ... some purple prose and tumbling teacups, against a backdrop of outrageous color.

My eldest daughter has been a bride's attendant about 20 times. She has quite the collection of impossible frocks in outrageous colors.

It's a damn good thing I don't have too much disposable income for booze. I love Jack and really, really, good ginger ale. The ginger ale I'm talking about comes to about $1.25 a bottle, and Jack is expensive for what it is. Wine is cheaper per glass, and I handle my wine a whole lot better.

Last night I had two Jack & Gingers and I'm very glad I didn't let friends talk me into drinking and writing. I'd rather be sober and boring than drunk and honest.

We watched "Fair Game," this afternoon. I'm a bit agitated right now. I know it's only a movie and it is point of view and there are always two sides, and the truth, to every story, but I still feel like honesty is a bad quality after watching this movie. It was a very good movie. And Sean Penn is a better actor than I though. I thought it was Dustin Hoffman at first, or maybe Michael Douglas.

Nancy could catch a Tofurky Thief, but she never could remember where she left her beer.

I don't know if anyone outside the US ever read teen serials (and, to be honest, I didn't, but my daughter did) but there was a series called Sweet Valley High in the 1980s that featured oh-so-wholesome twins. The series will soon be re-issued, with the twins all grown up, and they are "fully adult."

I don't think the folk who control the Nancy Drew franchise would allow her to drink. But, it would be fun ... think Nancy Drew meets The Thin Man.

Blackcurrant Cordial sounds incredibly sweet, no matter how diluted it is. And it has artificial sweetener AND saccharin. Dear gods. This must be British.

I had a blast painting the background, though. I am covered in black, gold and green paint. I'm not having fun unless I'm dirty.

Katerina adopted one of my orphaned postcards featuring the peninsula of monasteries, Mont Athos, and she wrote about the place not being open to females. I think it is because they don't want to share their booze.

My mother was always telling us money doesn't grow on trees. We were too smart to say, "Duh!", but I have heard children say that to their parents. That would have landed us in the chicken coop, cleaning chicken poop.

Yesterday was a bad day. Disillusion, dismay and dislike wore me down. Nothing a little tequila can't fix. Restored me to my warrior self.

This is going to one of my partners on the Swap Bot Handmade Postcard Club swap for "pages," which calls for using a page, and embellishing it. I actually wanted to use the page for "chaos," but the dictionary didn't include that word! It's not even a vintage dictionary ... just a cheap one published in 1995 that was falling apart and quite yellowed.

The kids were quite pleased with how well their magic worked on the neighbors. Corvus, the blind crow, struggled to remain still until served one of the lovely frothy beverages. He knew he'd pay for that accidental claw to the head later.