And here's the bag with Trixie inside it:
I had a bit of luck yesterday at the Kansas City Irish Festival. I arrived a few hours before my set so I could enjoy the festival. On my way back from the real bathrooms in Crown Center mall (no portapotties, thanks), I noticed this bag in a store where I normally wouldn't shop, the kind of store that is heaven to preteen girls. Since 2002, Trixie has had a leopard-skin bag, but the zipper is wonky. It's possible that getting her hair caught in it too many times has ruined the teeth (ouch!).
This new bag is great. It has plenty of room for Trixie, her toothbrush and several of her hats, her little sister Roxie and her hat, the baby, Mavis the monkey, the Gunniwolf, my harmonica, extra cough drops and kleenexes, a few brochures, a clock and a water bottle. In fact, there's space for more!
Trixie was not with me when I bought the bag. I wasn't accompanied by puppets in that set of scary stories for older kids and adults. I had to explain to several parents that their children might be too young for the show--I don't want them to have nightmares. It's strange to chase the audience away. Even doing that, and even with tremendous sound bleed from the big stage (so much that I could barely hear my own voice, though the mike was good enough so the audience heard everything), I had a full tent of listeners.
I told some new stories. It always feels good to add to the repertoire. One's an old chestnut, The cow that ate the piper, one is a folktale I'd never heard called The white bird of death and the other was an adaptation of J. Sheridan LeFanu's story Madam Crowl's ghost. While I get too scared listening to such stories, I like to tell them--I think it's because I'm in charge and know what's going to happen.
Tonight I'm telling milder stories, including some of the old favorite funny-scary tales. I hope those families come back. Trixie's quite chuffed about the bag and is waiting by the door.
I had a bit of luck yesterday at the Kansas City Irish Festival. I arrived a few hours before my set so I could enjoy the festival. On my way back from the real bathrooms in Crown Center mall (no portapotties, thanks), I noticed this bag in a store where I normally wouldn't shop, the kind of store that is heaven to preteen girls. Since 2002, Trixie has had a leopard-skin bag, but the zipper is wonky. It's possible that getting her hair caught in it too many times has ruined the teeth (ouch!).This new bag is great. It has plenty of room for Trixie, her toothbrush and several of her hats, her little sister Roxie and her hat, the baby, Mavis the monkey, the Gunniwolf, my harmonica, extra cough drops and kleenexes, a few brochures, a clock and a water bottle. In fact, there's space for more!
Trixie was not with me when I bought the bag. I wasn't accompanied by puppets in that set of scary stories for older kids and adults. I had to explain to several parents that their children might be too young for the show--I don't want them to have nightmares. It's strange to chase the audience away. Even doing that, and even with tremendous sound bleed from the big stage (so much that I could barely hear my own voice, though the mike was good enough so the audience heard everything), I had a full tent of listeners.
I told some new stories. It always feels good to add to the repertoire. One's an old chestnut, The cow that ate the piper, one is a folktale I'd never heard called The white bird of death and the other was an adaptation of J. Sheridan LeFanu's story Madam Crowl's ghost. While I get too scared listening to such stories, I like to tell them--I think it's because I'm in charge and know what's going to happen.
Tonight I'm telling milder stories, including some of the old favorite funny-scary tales. I hope those families come back. Trixie's quite chuffed about the bag and is waiting by the door.
1 comment:
That bag must be enormous to take all the cargo!
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