My Christmas Present to You: THRIFTING 101

I love to thrift shop. I do it for all my friends. I take my kids and they do it for all their friends. I don't know your size, though.

So, I am offering THRIFTING 101--all kinda wise thoughts about how to get the most out of a thrift store.

Merry Christmas. May you enjoy thrifting forevermore now.

Love,

--ginger.

THRIFTING 101

BIG PICTURE THRIFTING TRUTHS:

Keep your standards high: say no to rips, tears and stains. The feeling that you can get anything “out” with Tide is just a feeling. If the stain is a crunchy one that is clearly just the lunch of the person who donated it, that’s one thing. The rule of thumb: if you wouldn’t wear it just as it is, don’t buy it. (You won’t hem it, sew it, take it up, tuck it, or anything else. Sorry, but I know you, and you won’t.) The exception to this rule: if something’s missing a button but has an extra one attached, I will get it.

. . . but not too high: it’s easy to be slurped up into the frenzy of “OhmygoshIjustgotthatfor65cents!!!!” Don’t lose sight of the obvious. For example, when you find a beautifully-intact cashmere sweater for $7.00 that fits you just right, throw off the feeling that it’s just TOO MUCH money. Buy it.

Pay attention to how it fits: the torture of thrifting is that it is possible—and a regular occurrence—to find something that you love that just doesn’t fit you right (too tight in the boobs, too loose in the boobs …whatever). The upside of thrifting is the treasure hunting and the comically low prices; the downside is that when you find something, it won’t be available in 7 handy sizes. Don’t buy something (even if it’s cute and cheap) if it doesn’t fit well. You’ll just put it back into thrift-store-circulation when you get it home if it doesn’t fit well. And remember: $1.98 is cheap only if you actually buy something you like. Otherwise, it’s just like hucking $1.98 out the window: you COULD have purchased a double tall latte with that cash.

Become an owner of fabric softner: okay, there’s the smell. Let’s not pretend. There’s the smell. Right now, as I write, I’ve just thrown away (and then fished out of the trash) my favorite black vinyl jacket. It stinks. It’s cute, but it’s got a significant must that I can’t seem to shake with laundry products. I’m in the process of experimenting with various smell-good softeners. More on this as the research lays itself out.

Or become a wearer-of-perfume: this is really information for thrifting 201 because probably your naturally aromatic personal smell trumps thrift-store-must with just a few items hanging in your closet and on your back, but once you begin to integrate additional pieces and branch out into coats, you run the risk of having the must overwhelm your personal essence. I believe that this could be fought off with the right purchased scent. I haven’t, of course, done this yet. But it seems like it would work.

SPOTS IN A THRIFT STORE NOT TO MISS:

Shirts are an easy beginning (especially at the places that sort by color). Housewares: always a sure thing for a cheap cocktail glass or a plastic plate with a picture of the little mermaid. If you’re a basket-lover, get ready to die and go to heaven. Don’t miss: men’s belts (I hover there, waiting to find a western jobby to attach to a buckle I like that’s currently attached to a belt that I don’t); tablecloths and napkins; all the weirdly smushed together accessory bins (who doesn’t need snow gloves for 25 cents?).

SPOTS IN A THRIFT STORE TO PLAN ON SKIPPING:

Any category of clothing that would cover a “trouble” spot (for me, that’s my, well, behiiiiiiiiiind, so I skip “pants”); socks; shoes (though I do watch for cowboy boots, which somehow seem different and less able to deliver an old foot fungus than your basic old shoe); women’s belts (almost always made of plastic); all the chotchky—c’mon, do you really NEED that porcelain donkey?

Why I'm not cool. (And also a list of my TOP 5 Dream Concerts.)

I feel like it's time to set the record straight: I'm not cool.

There. I said it.

I did not arrive to music-writing via The Ramones or The Violent Femmes or any sort underground railroad of coolness. (I took the bus marked "reeeeeeeallyy dorky youth group girl" through the mid-80's, walked the rain-soaked sidewalk of "painfully-self-evualuating-20-something" in the mid-90's, and rode in a gas-guzzling SUV blaring, more-or-less bad radio as the new millenium approached.) I didn't begin to find my musical self until, well, a handful of years ago. (And, don't worry--now I drive a Honda.)

I didn't have my first real oh-this-is-what's-so-terrific-about-live-music experience until a year or so ago. Pete and I went to see Robert Earl Keen with some friends at a big hamburger place/music venue that mostly sets up for college kids and we yelled our heads off (okay, maybe it was just me yelling my head off) and squished up to the edge of the stage and screamed CHRISTMAS SONG (because that is one of his best, after all) and we left sweaty and when I walked out I thought, "That's what people mean when they say they like to go to shows."

My best concert before that one? Get ready: Amy Grant. Hold on. Here's the deal. There was a time (back in the pre-Baby-Baby/per-Vince-Gill/pre-bad-pop days) when she was the voice of one girl talking from her heart for those of us in jr. high who couldn't. I know I loved that concert for the same reason we all love concerts--somebody's up there pouring your heart out for you, or yelling or laughing their head off for you: it's you up there. Really, it's you.

Here are the five concerts on my list that I really want to see before it's all over for me:

#5: Robert Earl Keen again. That one was easy.

#4: Gillean Welch. This girl sings real songs. And I would want to see her in a bar with those wagon wheel tables and wood chips on the floor.

#2:Dan Zanes. I've never seen him, and I think he's doing with his life what many of us want to be doing: having a good time while he's helping other people have a good time too--plus I want to get up close enough to figure out what product he uses to get his hair to stand up like that.

#3:Daniel Lanois & Emmy Lou Harris together. This would be a sort of marriage-dream come true--my all-time favorite artist singing with my husband's all-time favorite. I would need backstage passes to make this dream real. And a new outfit. Yeah. And cowboy boots for Pete. Yeah.

#1:Barbra Streisand. It's true--this will be the real concert event of my lifetime. ALL THAT DRAMA! I will have experience YEARS of emotion just by SITTING (and, um, paying $1000). It will be the pinacle of the-artist-feels-for-me experiences. Really.

There. I said it. Now you know.

My Boy Loves NIGHT RANGER

It's all the buzz! We did our guest dj set for Spare the Rock, Spoil the Child, and my 6 year-old chose Night Ranger's "Sister Christian" as one of his picks. You can't believe all the BUZZZZZ about it--I mean . . . . there's like tv crews, news reports, bloggish uproar. . . um, I mean Bill and Scribble Jim and I emailed about it.

In order to set the record straight to ALL THE PUBLIC who are TALKING ON AND ON about this, I pose this question: What's the strangest song your kid has ever loved?

I mean, when I started listening to the crazy mix of 80's songs my friend Sunshine put together for me for my birthday last year, I didn't really expect "Sister Christian" to be the one that my boys (6 & 4) would be yelling, "play it again!" about from the backseat.

C'mon, let's put together a list: what are the strange ones that made you shake your head and go, "Really? You like THAT one?"

My Pretend Interview with Barbra Streisand

(This has been lovingly moved from my website over here to my blog, where it will live on in perpetuity. . . in my opinion, everyone should sit down with Barbra in their mind and let her ask you questions.)

A pretend interview wherin Barbra Streisand asks Ginger Hendrix Oprah-esque questions about her music, her life, her self.

Pretend Barbra: Ginger, are you surprised by the sudden success of Macaroni Boy Eats at Chez Shooby Doo?

Ginger: I don’t want to sound immodest, Barbra, but I’m really not. We’re hungry for real music—music that tells the truth and doesn’t shy away from words like (if you’ll excuse me) “potty” and “stinky.” We want to sing what we know to be real. All this singing about rainbows and unicorns has left us with a gaping inner space that is crying to be filled.

PB: Yes. I know what you mean. I felt that way when I filmed Yentl. Before we get ahead of ourselves, how did you get started on this journey, if you will, to music?

G: Interestingly to me, it was a path I happened upon, stumbled upon if you will. I was at home with my kids (and I mean that in a life-style sort of a way as opposed to just a “here’s what was going on on a particular day” sort of way), not having, well, the BEST time of my life and I accepted a friend’s invitation to a parent participation class. I’d tried them before, but they all seemed to be filled with women whose children would sit nicely and play with a single puzzle piece. My kids, um, didn’t play that way.

PB: Um hmmm. Um hmmmm.

G: I arrived really needing encouragement and some glimmer of hope that my boys were merely, well, “active” and I got it. It was a huge relief. I’d found a landing place.

PB: I’m so interested in you, but what does this have to do with your music?

G: I play the guitar, so I offered to do the music time for our class. I was desperate for a way to offer something in thanks for the realness of the class.

PB: Desperate?

G: I really was.

PB: Hmmmmm.

G: Before I showed up the first day, a song came to me, so I shared it. The kids loved it. The next week I wrote another. And so on, and so on.

PB: So, you say that music, essentially APPEARED to you like a beckoning apparition?

G: Yes, Barbra, but less ghost-like than your metaphor would imply. I’d been studying and writing poetry [you could click here for a link to my writing group’s website, but they don’t have one] for many years and so lyric-writing was a natural extension of that experience.

PB: Before I forget to ask, what is your favorite movie?

G: Yentl.

PB: Good. Good. Now, why children’s music, and not, say, Broadway-style-soul-revealing-cabaret-without-the-deep-lightness -of-self-that-requires sort of music?

G: It was really a matter of available audience (a group of my sons’ friends) mixed with the desire to be goofy.

PB: I don’t really know what you mean, but I’m so interested. How would you describe your music?

G: I think you could say that my music sounds like a less-talented Etta James meets Johnny Cash when he’s in a good mood meets the Artist Formerly Known as Marie Osmond meets Stanley if he were a girl and his fish were a dog who played the guitar.

PB: Mmmmmmmmmmm.

G: Barbra, could I offer you a copy of my CD before you are whisked off to your next heartfelt experience?

PB: No, Ginger, please don’t. I already have a copy of my own, and you should know that I’m considering singing “Rocking My Cat to Sleep” in my next show—a “thrio,” possibly, with Dan Zanes and Gillian Welch.

G: Thank you, Barbra, thank you. That would be a dream come true.

What's the Big Deal about Dan Zanes?

I mean, the guy's face is everywhere--you can't read a word worth writing about decent kids music without seeing his name. What's the big whoop?

I'll tell you (according to me): it's because he's the man. Honestly, I can say that I wouldn't have ponied up and made my CD if I hadn't ever encountered his music. Okay, so we're still on "why he's a big deal to me"--and since this is my blog, we may stay here, but I have this feeling on the inside that I'm not the only semi-talented, semi-funded, indie-kid-music-making chick out there with the same story.

Before I made my CD, I didn't listen to a lot of kids music--I mean, we had three dollars less than "no money" for quite a while, and CD-buying was not on the list (it fell somewhere after groceries, as I remember). The only "kids" music we listened to was the stuff people bought for us--and mostly we listened to it once, and then we promptly gave it away to the Goodwill for somebody else to um, er, enjoy.

I started writing the songs we sang in my sons' parent participation group because I didn't know any other kids songs besides "Dinah Won't You Blow" and "The Wheels on the Bus"--and I was bored. I'd already written a fat stack of songs by the time I'd heard of Zanes.

I still remember hearing the song "Thrift Shop" for the first time: Sandra Bernhard pairs with him for this song--and I listened the first time because I LOVE to thrift shop and so do my boys (as if they had a choice), and I remember playing the song back a second or third time to "check" what I thought I'd heard: It seemed like MAYBE Sandra didn't hit every note just right. In fact, maybe she had sort of a medium voice.

I checked. It was true.

And that fantastic thing about it was that I LOVED THE SONG. I won't even say that I loved the song ANYWAY. I mean I LOVED THE SONG. Part of her gutsy-belt-it-out-just-as-it-is was what makes the song so deliciously terrific. And it was this green light for me to go for it with my own music.

The big deal about Zanes? He's told the world that making music oughta be about good times. I'd say that's worth a big whoop.

Super Good News (almost like an early christmas)

Our CD made the FIDS & KAMILY AWARDS--we're on the list of the BEST KIDS ALBUMS OF 2006!

Yipeeeeeeeee! [insert image of me jumping up and clicking my heels together like a leprachaun or a toyota-buyer]

Actually, this is how happy we are:


Those are really nice people over there. Our real and true thanks to them for picking us for their team. (It's like better than the line-up for dodge ball teams in 5th grade. We got picked.)

If you want to hear Bill Child's dramatic read-off of the list, check out his kid radio show SPARE THE ROCK, SPOIL THE CHILD.

We'll be clinking cups all day long over here at our house.

Miracles of Costume Science

My boy says he needs glasses. Right.

"How do these work?"

"Good," he says.

Good. Hopefully Harry Potter won't need them back.

I'd wear a black arm band if I had one lying around the house

Okay, I know you're going to say, "But wait--I thought you were THIRTY-NINE and not FOURTEEN AND A HALF"--but to tell you the truth, I really LOVE watching The Gilmore Girls. (It's some of what my thirteen year old niece and I have in common . . .) I know it's hip to love LOST and that SIXTY SECONDS SHOW or whatever: c'mon people my age watch GREY'S ANATOMY and the cooking channel.

Not me. I really, really, really like the fast-talking sarcastic-mouthed Gilmore Girls. Amy Sherman Palladino is my kind of television writer.

The part about the arm band: she left. Amy, I mean. She left. I can't get the whole story (mostly because I'm not willing to read all the gilmore blogs), but she's not there any more. And now it's like watching your favorite movie when you're in another country and all you can hear is dubbed-over japanese on top of Gone with the Wind. (It looks famliar, but it's juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust not the same.)

I am sad, and I am sharing.

I'd say more, but I think you may find out that I'm even dorkier than I sound already. And, um, that seems tragic.

A moment of silence, please, for my favorite show. I can't believe it, but I think I may stop watching. I feel oddly sad, like someone I liked has moved away.

Raise Your Hand If Your Mom Left the Halloween Makeup Out on the Bathroom Counter

I Wrote to Oprah

But she didn't write back. (Yet, that is.)

Okay, so this one time I was clicking around oprah.com (you go there too--you know you do), and I saw some question about working moms and I got on some toot to respond, and I wrote this response:

I think the roughest challenge facing Moms is deciding how much to work—not whether to stay home or whether to work but how much of our lives to give to the things that are not our family. I’m not talking about the need for cash here. I’m talking about our life work—whatever it is that we were put here to do.

As I see it, our culture seems to offer two choices (and they’re both capitalized everywhere you look): Working Mother or Stay-at-Home Mom. We have babies and then we’re supposed to check the box: which will it be?

Why is no one talking about the mother who works a little, stays home a little, drives a little--well, probably drives a lot--reads a little to her kids, reads a little for herself, hangs with her husband a little, with her friends a little, gives away her time a little . . . .

We seem to have bought the paradigm the working world offers: employee or non-employee. I want to be more than the employee of my life.

I feel strongly about this because it’s been incredibly difficult for me. It’s taken me a handful of years to see that it’s okay not to pick which mom camp I’m in. I need to make some money. I need to be with my boys. I need to do the creative work that I do. I need to do the volunteer work that I do. I need to be awake in my relationship with my husband. And I’m working hard right now to sculpt a life that is packed with pieces of all of these things. I’m not crossing things off my list; I’m portioning them.

Are we telling each other as women that this is a legit means of tackling life—or are we just standing in two camps, busy misunderstanding those women on the other side of the line?

About me: I teach at the local university; I write music and sing for kids; I spend time with my husband, with my friends, with my kids; I volunteer; I thrift shop. I don’t do any of these things full time.

(Updated) Why I don't read to my children

Okay, I lied: I do read to my children. I have found it really excruciating for a few years, though. I noticed that I made up excuses to pawn off bedtime reading to my husband. Then I read Mem Fox’s Reading Magic and I realized that I didn’t read aloud much to my boys because the books on their shelves BUGGED ME.

They had stacks of books with kind of ugly machine-generated pictures and even uglier, machine-generated prose. So one day I snuck into their room and culled out the books that made me feel crabby when I looked at them. It was an amazing shift.

I love to read a book that’s worth reading. Here’s my (growing) list of books that make you want to read them—books with beautiful pictures that make you want to know what’s happening next; books with lyric prose (not sing-songy rhyme—the real stuff, the stuff poetry is made of); books with stories that end in a real way and don’t try to sneak up on a kid and try to talk them into believing something that doesn’t quite fly. Real books.

Henny Penny by Jane Wattenberg [This book is so full of words that want to go together that it's like having all kinds of good food in your mouth when you read it.]

The Big Red Barn by Margaret Wise Brown & Felicia Bond [This author of Good Night Moon is so good at rhyme that doesn't turn into lymric. A really beautiful, soothing book.]

Arnie the Doughnut by Laurie Keller [Laurie Keller is a kid book writing genuis.]

The Leaf Men by William Joyce [A terrific fairy story with nifty watercolor and ink illustrations.]

The Relatives Came by Cynthia Rylant and Stephen Gammel [This is one of those books you want to be in when you read it.]

Heckedy Peg by Audrey & Don Wood [The duo of Woods always make books with terrific pictures. The story here a little scary ("Heckedy Peg had one leg . . ."), but ultimately about a mom who is clever enough to outsmart a crabby witch lady and bring her big brood of kids home.

I say hold out for books that are beautiful. But that’s just my 42 cents.

**Hey--and here's a nifty list (that I will add links to later) from my friend Sunshine:

Books the Frawley Family Recommends You Check Out!

Owen - Kevin Henkes
Ira Sleeps Over - Bernard Waber
Jamberry - Bruce Degen
Slugs - Victoria Chess
Max the Minnow - William Bonaface
Curious George books - Margaret & H.A. Rey
Frog and Toad books - Arnold Lobel
Chickens Aren't the Only Ones - Ruth Heller (All books by her!)
I Like Me - Nancy Carlson
Pierre / Chicken Soup with Rice - Maurice Sendak
Clifford books - Norman Bridwell
Little Critter books - Mercer Mayer
The Monster at the End of This Book - Jon Stone (Sesame Street book)
The Berenstain Bears books - Stan and Jan Berenstain
Fortunately - Remy Charlip
Everyone Poops - Taro Gomi
Widget - Lyn Rossiter McFarland
Art Dog - Thacher Hurd
It Could Always Be Worse - Margot Zemach
Peabody - Rosemary Wells
Tikki Tikki Tembo - Arlene Mosel
Bob the Snowman - Sylvia Loretan
Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, Very Bad Day - Judith Viorst
Sippyjon Jones - Judy Schachner
Olivia books - Ian Falconer
The Little Mouse, the Red Ripe Strawberry and the Big Hungry Bear - Don and Audrey Wood (All books by them!)
The Very Hungry Caterpillar - Eric Carle (All books by him!)
Knuffle Bunny - Mo Williems
The Paper Bag Princess - Robert Munsch (All books by him!)

Montezuma's Diary

Uh. I feel like I should say something here about the whole "WHO'S ALLOWED TO HAVE A BLOG" life-question. Turns out, it's "ANYBODY." I find blogging a thoroughly satisfying hobby--just below thrift shopping and above leaving weird answering machine greetings on my cell phone. It's that feeling that some of us love that there's a microphone turned on somewhere that we can walk up to at any time.

I told my friend Johnna (whose name has not been changed because she's not innocent in this case) that she should have a blog. She claims not to be interesting enough. I find that untrue and still think she should have one.

My future plans for posting: "I think my cleaning lady broke up with me."; "My son named his teddy bear Thelma"; "Places I like to click when I should be balancing my check book" (oh wait--look to the right--I did that one as a sidebar! (There! Diaaaaaaagonally! . . .Very sneaky, Sis.)

And my friend Amy says I need to write more pretend interviews! This is a very good idea which I give her full credit for. She is smart and has a big fat PhD. We teach together in one of my lives here.

That's all I have today. Except, of course, for the tiny little detail that the CD got two life-changing reviews. And I spent most of the afternoon hyperventilating with joy. I told my best friend Ann that I plan to be insufferable all day. It will probably be true, too.

Will Turned Six!

Big news over here at the BTP Records Office (and tv room): The big kid has turned six. (The crowd should cheer here.) We pulled out all the stops with a pirate-batman-scooby-doo birthday party (theme, shmeme) and had a hoot of a time. See below for the incriminating picture of sweet Pete as PIRATE PETE (sadly, he refused to read the piratey script I'd written for him. Also, he discovered, somehow, that wearing boots without socks is very pirate-like. Obviously, he's right.)



Because of said piratey appearance, please notice the super happy birthday guy look on the six year old's face:



Shopping for piratey paper plates that everyone will forget to use: $3.22
Cleaning the house instead of lying on the couch: 3 hours 22 minutes of standing up
Seeing your son have a good time at his party: priceless.

Small Rockers Rock On

According to a very reliable source, these children are, in fact, rocking out to Macaroni Boy Eats at Chez Shooby Doo. Derek and Stella and their cousins were born to rock--no, really, they were. Mom and Dad are the happy, Morro-Bay-loving owners of Central Coast Music (our favorite music store.) We like their style and know that someday they will have a band. No, really, they will have a band.

Do you have a pic of your kiddos singing along, rocking along, yelling along to Macaroni Boy? (Even a picture of them with the CD cover on their head counts as fun to look at and worthy of their ginger-blog-fame. **See below for the important distinction between "fame" and "ginger-blog-fame.")

You Don't Have to Be Able to Use the Potty to Love Macaroni Boy Eats at Chez Shooby Doo

According to reliable sources, toilet training is not a pre-req to macaroni love. Exhibit A: Josiah.

If you want your kid to be famous on my blog, send me a pic here. (And when I say "famous," I mean of course, "ginger-blog-famous," which is its own kind of famous.)

Macaroni Boy Hits the Radio

It's a true story: check it out! Macaroni Boy Eats at Chez Shooby Doo is currently on the playlist of a kids' radio show in Massachusetts. Bill Childs and his totally cute radio daughter (okay, it's actually his real daughter too--she's the one who drew the nifty picture of her dad's sound board . . .) host a two-hour kid show on Saturday mornings in Northampton, Mass. Here's the proof: "Spare the Rock, Spoil the Child." We're excited over here at the Buster T. Pumpkinhead Records office (and tv room). We'll post future good news.

Hey: even better, here's the archived podcast (now you don't have to wake up at 5 am pacific time . . .last weekend): um, right here.

Just when it couldn't get better, we hit TWO WEEKS on the SPARE THE ROCK, SPOIL THE CHILD playlist. Check out this weekend's show. (Bill Childs puts together a really fun combo of music for the fam.)

P.S. This isn't actually, the VERY first time we've been on the radio. The local public radio station interviewed Ginger this summer and played a couple of songs. Click here.

Why am I here?

The thing is, I'm a born blogger. And I've had this tiny little website just busting with its too-big font, and I have, well, more to say. Plus, I just met (well, read) all these nice people from Massachusettes, and they all blog. So I want to. I'm pulling all my bloggish content over from my site.

Finding Good Kids Music

Looking for music ideas for your kids? I’ve been of the I’m-sorry-I-just-can’t-hear-little-kids-sing-in-a-chorus school for some time now. Some kids singing: very cute. A whole passle with a bad synthesizer in the background: please no.

I’m not talking here about how to choose music that ensures your kid will be good at math. I’m talking about surviving the car ride of your current life with your children in the background saying, "I want my favorite song again.” (Which, at our house, is—for some reason—Natalie Merchant singing “Hey Jack Kerouac.” I don't know either.)

I’m talking about finding music that will create spontaneous family sing-alongs. This can be any music, but some music seems better suited than other music. (Who wants to sing Christina Aguilera with their kidlets? "I'm a genie in a bottle baby" . . . um. never mind.)

Here’s a list of music that’s made for sing-alongs and dance-alongs at our house:


FUN-TO-LISTEN-TO KID MUSIC


Dan Zanes (the grand Pooh-Bah of the family music movement)

Or take a look at the cdbaby.com kids/family music page. Lots of good independent artists here--and they all have sound clips so you can listen around.

WHATEVER MUSIC YOU LIKE (unless it’s KISS—or mini-KISS for that matter.) At our house, that’s big band, old country and (lately) Cuban:

Louis Armstrong My son: “Is this the cookie monster?”

Omara Portuondo Great for dancing in the living room.

All the Putamayo mixes are great: we love the Cuba. You can’t listen to this music and remain grumpy. It sweeps it all away.

MUSIC FOR CALMING DOWN

Sometimes to pull the energy down (and I mean by that: get them to stop hitting each other over and over again), we declare the mood shift with soothing music like these mixes:
Latin Lullaby and Brazillian Lullaby. A mix of artists—all beautiful.

We like opera music too. The Three Tenors are a good place to start for this kind of music.

Any kind of classical music that settles you will also settle them. I’m a big fan of those cheap mixes you can buy anywhere. It doesn’t have to say “Mozart for Babies” to be right for babies . . . but sometimes those are the ones you get for gifts, so go ahead and listen to them. They still count as real classical music (even if there’s a picture of a baby with a wand on the front.)


Final Note: remember, I’m not at all qualified to make recommendations of any kind: I’m not a doctor. I have a Maaaaaaaaaaaaster’s Degree . . . in English.