Sadie's review of "Shoes," by Singer and Storyteller Susan Reed

Susan Reed, singer, storyteller, and Suzuki violin clinician, was Sadie's teacher at the workshop we attended in March. We bought one of Miss Susan's CDs and brought it home for Sadie to enjoy. She LOVES it. She listens to it in her CD player at night, and then totes it downstairs to listen to down here too! Here is her review:

For Miss Susan:

I like your songs. My favorite one is the first one, "Hello, how'd you do? Nice to be here with you!" I really like it. I also like the violin parts. I listen to it every night and sometimes every day. And thanks for teaching me. I bet someday I will be like you.

Love,
Sadie

Susan Reed, performing at the STAHR workshop.

The CD Sadie is reviewing, "Shoes."

Happy Mothers Day!

I love my mom because she's funny and tickles me a lot.
I love my mom because she lets us play playstation.
I love my mom because she lets us go to church and the grocery store.
I love my mom so much because she loves me!

Happy Mothers Day, Mom! I love you!

Sadie and the Cow

Once we were going strawberry picking. And I went to see a cow, which now we're talking about right now. It had a very dirty udder. It was very very dirty. But I did not care. The reason why I'm telling this is that I love cows! Cows make milk by eating grass. But grass is green and milk is white. I wonder how that happens. Maybe you should go to the strawberry farm and see that cow. Maybe it will be up and running around, or maybe it will be resting like we saw. But who cares? Well, I'm thinking on getting a cow. Because we just ran out of milk. And what we're talking about today is cows. But you know what I'm talking about, right? A dog named Leroy might get scared of that cow. Who cares about Leroy? Benny does. Do you think that a cow has just one stomach? It does not have one stomach! It has four stomachs. Every time it chews it goes down to the first stomach, and then comes back up again and then goes to the fourth. The cow has to eat some grass, and eat and eat and eat. And eat and eat. Like millions of grass. But not in one day -- in a hundred days, if it lives a hundred days. The end.