I don’t remember when I made my first cake or when my mother first gave me advice about cooking. As for my early experiences with baking, I remember the 4-H project on breads and pastries that I worked on the summer I was 7.
Soothing is the contented purring of a friendly cat – its companionship helping me forget my problems and warming me by its cozy comfort.
Warmed by the sun, my bare arms feel free in the fresh spring air, and the heat that builds in my van reminds me of warmer days ahead.
I made up my mind years ago that I’d probably never own a new car. It’s not that I would mind flaunting its perks as I drive around, but the final answer for the math behind a new vehicle purchase is too impractical for my style, even if I could afford one.
I stopped in my local Tractor Supply Co. store to return a plastic flooring insert that did not fit our small rabbit cage.
I’ve had a box of tofu on the shelf for several weeks. I put off using it because Mark still remembers the time he tried it in a Japanese restaurant and thought it was weird – big on texture but small on flavor.
No, this isn’t about a pregnancy test (that old expression is obsolete, anyway). We gathered on the other side of our creek-that’s-only-a-creek-when-it’s-good-and-rainy.
When I take a good look at all the stuff I’ve accumulated at my house that I don’t really have room for – things I juggle around, work around, should clean around – I always think, “what could make me believe I needed these things?” Instead of examining my own weaknesses, I’m going to blame our media.
A rap on my kitchen door told me that our neighbor Zoe was outside. She’s developed a bold, persistent knock, probably because there is such a delay before one of us answers.
A few weeks ago, my eighth grader casually mentioned that she was one of two representatives from her classroom in the school spelling bee.
It’s one vicious circle. Magazines pile up under my furniture and I chide myself for subscribing to them.
Be My Guest (Columnist) I offer this pointed article by Kia Harries in place of my own column with appreciation to her.
Maybe it’s laziness, but when I fix on a thought process that requires a quick answer, my focus goes fuzzy.
This paper runs some great articles on a wide variety of topics: nature, science, human interest, history, progress, and of course farm life.
Less than a couple of months away, we’ll greet spring in all its fresh (though somewhat muddy) glory.
I’ve complained before about the way small appliances accumulate in my kitchen. Finding a home for them is tough.
Flip. Waddle. Flop. Splash. I’d probably see black and white birds in my sleep. I stretched back to relieve my stiffness.
Our Christmas gifts told the tale. My daughters have outgrown toys. Now, they are caught up in the micro-packaged world of encapsulated entertainment.
No matter where each of us is at the end of 2005, when the clock strikes midnight, we shall have moved into a new year.
Drifts of snow far higher than the little girl’s head lined the long lane that led uphill to her home.