New puppet habitat

I live an opulent life: in my new house, I have a whole room for puppets, games and musical instruments. Up until this week, I wasn't satisfied with the arrangement of the Puppet Room. Most of the puppets were in bins in the closet, all jammed together. Nobody was happy.

Last week, I went to the Borders Books that is going out of business in Lawrence. [As an aside, I'm not all teary about it--this large chain bookstore opened up a half-block from the wonderful and independent Raven Bookstore years ago. Kudos to the little store for outlasting the behemoth. I hope folks in town will go back to the Raven, buying local again.] After not finding any books I wanted to buy, I looked at the fixtures. Way in the back room I found a blue metal rack with adjustable shelves and hooks, the perfect puppet storage unit. I thought about it for a few days, then went back and bought it. It broke down into pieces and all fit in my car. When I got home, I introduced everybody to the new place.

There's room for everybody (though I've put the duplicate Trixies and Babies in the closet), and space for games and puzzles on the bottom shelves.

Don't they look pleased?

This fellow, a present from a friend, surveys the scene from a nearby wall.

Punch is on the other wall, in case he gets the urge to whack somebody with his slapstick.

Mr. Bacon was interested in the puppets and yesterday tried to find a good sleeping spot on the rack, so when you see me at performances, the puppets may have a little extra cat hair on them.

Tax time

It's that time of year. I have an appointment with my fabulous tax advisor tomorrow. I'm not being sarcastic--she keeps me on track. I'm not quite ready. My next step is to take inventory of my recordings. There are over a thousand in a kind of loft in my office, behind the curtain (looks like a puppet stage up there). The ladder is ready and waiting.

The rest are in the kitchen cabinets. How do I get up there? I stand on a small stool, then climb up on the counter.

Then I'll find my way back to my desk to finish figuring out where and when I made money, and where and when I spent it.

I don't mind paying taxes for a few reasons:

1. This means I actually made money,
2. My taxes pay for things I believe are important, such as roads and schools--and hey, schools hire me, so some of my tax money comes back in that way!
3. It's a way I participate in this democracy.