Because my education in managing this site began with a wonderful guy named Barry, and he disappeared in the middle of the plague to return to extreme religion, I only know about some of the ways to use the equipment. And I’m still learning. So I just learned about approving comments, and discovered my little cousin’s remarks about “Oif’n Pripichock.” I used to sing it to him when I babysat, and just now realized that we were two little war orphans – his father shell-shocked from WWII and my parents overwhelmed with creating a viable existence from scratch. Now I watch – obsessively – the Ukrainian children – and think of what lullabies can soothe their worlds.