Archive for March 3rd, 2011

“Every audience gets that.”

March 3, 2011 @ 10:51 pm | Filed under:

Just arrived from the library: Leonard Bernstein’s Young People’s Concert series, which aired on CBS from 1958 to 1973. Backed by the New York Philharmonic, playing to a packed house of children in Carnegie Hall, Bernstein conducts and chats his way through the marvels and mysteries of music.

Scott watched this series, bit by bit, years ago in our New York days. He recently discovered our library owns it, so we’ve got plans to immerse ourselves in these DVDs for the next few weeks.

The fun Mr. Bernstein has with the music and the audience reminds me of this wonderful Bobby McFerrin moment, which I think I’ve linked to before.

Moment :43 and the swell of laughter that follows is pure, real, unexpected joy. I’m thinking about it and it’s hard to find examples of a crowd of adults reacting with such spontaneous and childlike delight. It’s like the first time a baby takes up a crayon and makes a streak of color upon the paper or the wall. Magic just happened!


March 3, 2011 @ 1:52 pm | Filed under:

I asked Rilla which book she wanted me to read to her: Interrupting Chicken or A Sick Day for Amos McGee.

She studied them for a moment, then jabbed one with her finger.

“I want An Interrupting Day for Chicken!”

(We read ’em both. Twice. They’re both wonderful books—selected because of the Cybils Shortlist Reading Challenge—both were finalists; Interrupting Chicken took the prize—and also because Amos won the Caldecott medal and Chicken won an Honor. Don’t miss them, even if you must do them one at a time.)

Rillabook and Daily Links

March 3, 2011 @ 8:45 am | Filed under: , ,

How Do Dinosaurs Say Good Night? by Jane Yolen & Mark Teague. From our Rillabooks list. Technically it was Jane who read this one—11 times in a row—to her insistent little sister. That Jane, she’s a keeper.

How to write a sentence « Farm School. Becky’s back, therefore I bookmark. And my TBR pile grows.

A Year of Reading: Be Careful What Behaviors You Extinguish.

I let her keep doodling while I read, as a “consolation prize” for all the “incomprehensible English that was washing over her.”