The Sound of Music

My brother suggested a new band to me. He called the other day sitting on his porch, drinking a glass of wine, taking in the evening. He asked if I had checked out the music yet. I let him know that I googled the name, found the site, but couldn't figure out how to do anything other than purchase an album through paypal. He told me it's all there. I think our conversation was interrupted by one of his darling nieces, and we decided to talk later.

I went back and found that my brother was right on about this music. I just needed to click on one of the buds hanging from the tree to find the links. He told me that it sounded like something Zach Braff would like. I agree. Now we just have to get Zach in on this so they can be played during Scrubs or Zach's next big directing/acting hit so they can enjoy the success and fame like other backseat bands that rode the wave of Garden State. They sound a bit young, but I have yet to follow an artist from the youth of their career and not witness the progression from merely talented to disciplined and mature lyrics and composition.

The books

I read two Bob Books to me yesterday between giggles over the simple silly ink drawings of Mat sitting on Sam and Sam sitting on Mat.

A few days ago, she looked at me and read a three-letter word on my shirt.

I always enjoy the freedom that reading provides my . They feel grown-up; they know they are so. But, I cringe when they begin to read some guy's lewd t-shirt while strolling in a public place....

With freedom comes responsibility. A first comprehends, then learns the mechanics of communication. I think many parents either forget this, or are unaware of the process. So, they continue to stick picture books in front of their 's noses (and very, very boring, unimaginative, Disneyfied ones at that), read without inflection or adding definitive voices to the characters, and then worry over Jr.'s lack of affection or desire for good literature.

The summer that my daughters turn five, I pull out The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame. Each day, somnolent from the afternoon sun, we climb into the book and boat the river with determined Ratty and thoughtful Mole; feel the exuberence of Toad and his misadventures; are calmed by Badger's reserve and sense of direction; and comforted by the loyalty true friendship brings.

We continue on with The Secret Garden (by Frances Hodgson Burnett) feeling Mary's obstinacy melt in Martha's good cheer and kindness; her frustrations mirrored in melancholy cousin Colin and her challenge for him to rise above it, as she has with the help of calming Dickon and a bit of earth to claim as her own.

As we go through the chapters, our conversations become peppered with reflections of the characters or situations. Eventually we incorporate little sayings as a conduit for the magic to find its way into the moments of the day. When one of the girls is feeling a bit negative, one of us might screw-up our face and proclaim, "I'm not sour!" It fishes a smile from the corner of a dour little mouth.

C.S. Lewis says it best for me: "...we do not retreat from reality, we rediscover it. As long as the story lingers in our mind, the real things are more themselves... By dipping them in myth we see them more clearly."