…Had a practice of our Assembly with me working a puppet and playing the piano.
In Art we varnished the heads of our puppets and started a mosaic of a desert…
Week four of the puppet saga.
I should point out, just on the off-chance anybody is actually keeping up with – and, moreover, remembering – the minutiae of this blog, that at this point in 1986 there were two separate puppet-related projects occupying my life.
The first was for the assembly, about which I seemed to have become rather obsessed, and which involved the homemade Kermit my mum had made for me. Remember the assembly wasn’t until 20 June: still well over a month away. Clearly nobody at my school was aware of the concept of over-rehearsal.
The second was this wretched art project that had occupied every Friday afternoon of the term, and which still wasn’t over.
My efforts in this regard were, frankly, dreadful: a freakishly massive head with ghoulish Cubist-esque features attached to some tatty rags, on to which were glued ill-shaped blobs of papier mache by way of hands and feet, and from which were fastened long pieces of string connected to a wooden cross, with which I was supposed to smoothly and professionally operate the entire creation.
I’m pretty sure this second puppet, or marionette to be strictly accurate, never graced the public stage. Instead it hung on the back of my bedroom door for the next eight years, gathering dust and insults.
Kermit, on the other hand, was destined for much bigger things: the star of a joke-filled routine to be performed in front of my 10-year-old peers.
What could possibly go wrong?