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The Living Without Series

This is a series of posts that I wrote back in 2006 on living with less stuff. Check them out: liv011Living #2liv031liv04

Coal Creek Farm on Facebook

The Chicken Doctor

April

The Architect

Clay

The Puppet Factory

Whenever I say, “The Puppet Factory” I sing it to the tune of The Adams Family. Try it.. The Puppet Factory…duh-duh-duh-duh..snap snap…duh-duh-duh-duh..snap snap..
On Tuesday I had to wait at The Puppet Factory for the Fed Ex man to arrive through that big metal door.
You would think that waiting for over two hours in a place surrounded by puppets would be amusing.
But, the longer I was there, the creepier the place seemed. I mean there are heads in plastic bags. It’s like CSI Puppet Edition.
Look at the sign my mom has sitting close to her desk. She must light the candle and say a little prayer to Jim Henson when things start to get a little to wacko for her.
I waited and waited and waited. And the puppets they stared at me and I think some of them moved when I wasn’t looking.
Check this guy out. Trying to look all innocent like he’s not trying to come out of that box and strangle me.
Hey hombre, I see you trying to look all I didn’t do it. Why are you looking at me? And shut your mouth!
The blond bodies. It was too late for these girlies. They’d been bagged and boxed. Sorry girls.
What the? Who wouldn’t be creeped out by this? A purple body thrown on top of a heep of animals, that ain’t right. This needs serious investigation.

And then this happened.

I gotta get outta here.

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