It’s that time of year when I shameless plug magazine sales for my child’s music department. The money will send a poor Minnesotan child to Florida this winter.
Well, I’m kidding, but I am not. Regular blog-reader friends know that I frequently drag my husband and children down to the Sunshine State. For some of the kids in the choir, this will be their first time out of the state . . . except maybe to Fargo, but we don’t count that because it’s — like — attached . . . to paraphrase Goldie Hawn in Protocol. The trip is well organized and chaperoned and makes great memories for all involved. I was on the first choir trip this director took some (cough, cough) odd years ago.
If you don’t need a magazine, for Pete’s sake, don’t buy one.