The clock ticked and ticked. The time was running against her. She swung the door open and stepped on the cold floor, but she was fine because she had her fuzzy warm socks on. The scent of the roasting turkey flowed into her nose. She was ready to make pumpkin filling. Mary-Anne took out the crumpled list of ingredients, and searched for the items throughout the kitchen. She grabbed a few eggs out of the mini fridge in the corner of her small kitchen. She placed them on the counter, they wobbled, but before they could reach the end of the counter she caught them in time. After all her items were laid out, she rolled the pumpkin, then heaved it onto the table. She placed her finger on her chin, her mind deep in thought. Trying to think of what her mom had told her on the phone two days before. “Oh,” she replied to herself. She walked out …show more content…
Mary-Anne looked at the message her mom sent her to see the steps on how to make the filling, and how to use the spice correctly or it wouldn't work. Step one: Cut open the pumpkin to make a little hole. Mary Anne searched around the kitchen for her pumpkin knife, then she found it. She easily made a hole on the top of the pumpkin, near the stem. She was done with the first step. Step two: Do three shakes of spice into the hole that you just made. Then just wait for a few minutes so that it can melt into the pumpkin. She shaked it 3 times, exactly what her mom said to do. Then she stepped out of the kitchen for a moment to use the bathroom. When she came back she was humming her favorite tune, nodding her head lightly, side to side. As she walked toward the pumpkin she suddenly opened her eyes, because she stepped on a pumpkin seed. But when she picked it up from under her foot, and was going to throw it away, the kitchen turned brighter. An orangey bright. Mary-Anne turned around to see what was up with the sun, but surprisingly, it was the
I also don't own the idea, it was requested to me by the wonderful Amanda. Thank you so much! I hope I did this idea justice.
Gliding over to the kitchen, Minnie continued with her everyday tasks. She began by clearing the table, a task that should have been completed the night before but was left untouched. She put things away one by one and in a quiet manner. She lightly opened and shut the cupboards, placing pots and pans where they belonged, one by one, straight from the table to under the sink. It was cold in that kitchen. Minnie looked out the window to her neighbor’s house. Perhaps today she would go visit; perhaps today she would not.
I’m Freda Josephine Baker born to Carrie McDonald and Eddie Carson on June 3rd, 1906, in St. Louis, Missouri, but most of you may know me as Josephine Baker. At the age of 12 I dropped out of school to become an entertainer, yes yes, I remember it like it was yesterday, I was young and ready to become a star. I grew up cleaning houses and babysitting for white families, and they always reminded me “be sure not to kiss the baby”. When I was 13, I got a waitressing job at the Chauffeur’s Club, which was where I met my first husband, our marriage was very brief; I had never hesitated to leave anyone, never depended on any man for anything, that’s for sure.
That very first time, in anger I threw the potato soup at my older sister then crawled like a spider underneath the table whining and crying. I was hungry. Mother said there would be no soup for me but filled my sister’s bowl a second time. They sat and ate and laughed. I crawled further into myself and listened to my sister’s slurps and smacks of her lips and her mouth-filled voice tanting me. “It’s good—so good.”
Sticking two black button eyes on our snowman, I turned and gave Charlie a high-five. "Finished!" I said. "And there's not a finer snowman in the whole neighborhood." But Charlie wasn't looking at me. He was staring at the snowman, his face almost as white.
When to make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies- I recommend a cool, fall day when you have the windows open so you can feel the breeze and hear the leaves crumpling in the wind. The breeze will pass through your kitchen and bring the scent of warm pumpkin chocolate chip cookies throughout the house. Not only will that make everyone hungry for cookies but it will make your house feel like a home. There is nothing better then the smell of a homemade treat in your own house.
When Goldilocks began to feel, That she would like a proper meal, She put on her gloves, her hat, her mac, And went to the shops to find a snack. Through the woods her short-cut went, Down a path that was long and bent. On her way she picked up flowers; It helped to pass away the hours. Then round the corner did she see, A house as pretty as could be, She stopped and stared, then tried to decide, Whether anyone was inside.
She lifted the hat one more time and set it down slowly on her head. Two wings of gray hair protruded on either side of her florid face, but her eyes, sky-blue, were as innocent as they must have been when she was ten. Where it not that she was a widow who had struggled fiercely to feed and clothe and put him through school and who was supporting him still, “until he got on his feet,” she might have been a little girl that he had to take to town.
Do you remember the first and only time you saw him? The dragon snoring in your parent’s bedroom was the cue. It was time for creeping on the potato sacks stored in the front yard. Some folks had green lawn, yard gnomes and Snow White figurines but you had potatoes.
I thought about your letter - of course we must ask questions. All the time. And a person like Melody would have a totally different take on things, which must be interesting. I even ask people that I know I’d disagree with, just to get another perspective. Strawberry festival?
As the snow came down early one morning, the students piled into school. But today was different from any other morning, it was the first snowfall of the year, students were excited thinking that Christmas was coming and cookies, houses would be filled and lit up with happiness as you would drive past them. Some of the students would argue that Josephine a young girl should not receive anything for Christmas because she had been partying, drinking, and hurting all of her closest friends because of something they called her mistakes. As the days became closer together, she would receive dirty looks, people would call her nasty names, but what those people did not know is that she suffered from everytime she closed her eyes. She would have to
It started as a normal day like any other. It was late afternoon, as waves crashed down on the cold rocky shores of Gadarenes. Mixed in with the fog, evil plotted sinister plans in the darkness of a cave. If you were quiet enough you could here posed men scream out in awful agony in the depths of caves, as they cut themselves, and screamed out terrible blasphemies. As I watched over, my swine, who were eating yellow and green flowers that were frosted over by the nights cold.
My beloved Alan, I’m writing to you as an attempt to clear my head. My life has been extremely chaotic as of late, and I think scribing my thoughts might help me understand the events that have passed. To say that all of my problems originate from your death would be an understatement. Every day, every waking moment, I am wracked with the guilt of what I caused you to do.
How Rainbows Got Their Colors! By: Maddy Martin!!!! One sunny morning two friends were walking around town.
...ng with words and ideas and visions and her bladder about to burst. She limped away from the door, along the polished floor, through the thick door separating the upper rooms from lower orders. She limped slowly towards the staff toilet on the second floor, her mind in both a state of joy and at the same time feeling out on a limb, out of her depths. She entered the toilet and shut the door. Footsteps moved across the room above. Voices called from along the corridor. Some one laughed. She sat and closed her eyes; her bladder emptied, her heartbeat slowed, her nerves calmed. A lady's maid. She repeated it in her mind; turned the phrase over and over in her mind like a boiled sweet. What would Mrs Broadbeam say? How would the other staff be with her now? She saw the child in her mind. How had she crept into her bed? And why? Suddenly, unexpectedly, Mary began to cry.