Puppet Show Memoirs:

Hello dear readers, I (Quinn) have hijacked the blog for a short time to give my wife a break. 

(This may be the only time, depending on how it turns out.)

Xochie was not excited with her role in the puppet show.

I would like to take you on a short stroll down memory lane if I may. 

Growing up my siblings and I were gifted with quite a large puppet collection. For both our entertainment and our parents. We found enjoyment in thinking we were quite witty with the shows we would put on. Mother and Father found entertainment in our inability to remember our lines and attempts to write newer and better ones upon the spot. 

As the years went by and the collection of puppets grew to astronomical proportions, our shows did get better as well as our acting. Sadly though, as the years have passed by the puppets have fallen by the way side. 

 Upon hearing countless stories about the puppets and our childhood, Emily decided it was time to stroll down memory lane once again. This of course meant that we would need to pull them all out of the storage room/the entryway to Emily and I's house. This was a task in and of itself which consisted of wading through a waist deep pile of very important things which found their way into our entryway. . . Climbing the shelving and holding on with skill worthy of a mountain climber and finally prying the bags from their niche in the dank darkness we rarely venture into. I was the one who found myself fending off impending collapse of the shelving unit and the ensuing avalanche of picture frames, boxes, puppets and books that would bury me alive. Emily was behind giving me all the moral support she could muster at the time. Once the puppets were removed from their lair I handed them to Emily with great care. She took the two bags and turned to leave. . . Imagine her surprise when there emerged a third and equally bursting bag of puppets. 

(Her comment to me went along the lines of us being spoiled children.) 

Every child needs a clam puppet!

All that was left to do was sort through said bags of puppets and decide which ones were Alaskan enough to star in our next production. 

Later that evening the curtain had been erected and we were all ready. Mom had suggested the production we were going to put on and we approved of it wholeheartedly. 

We hope you will enjoy our tireless efforts to bring you our rendition of
The Lonely Goatherd.