my experience |
| Posted: 24 Dec 2011 08:51 PM PST Sound of Music, as I write this little story. Every Christmas Eve, when I'm older, I sit and think about last Christmas when I was young. Christmas was always a magical time of year that everyone seems to be a little more love and kindess of his heart to give. Sometimes Christmas can bring out the best in man. It may also offer new ways of decorating houses in the neighborhood with the entire new store has items in your inventory. There is always a beautiful house. This is just drive around and admires the creative way homes are decorated. I remember the flashing lights along the house, snowmen in front. Or Santa climing the ladder and Merry Christmas in the bush with light. Evening of that day will come in use when I see my sister and dad do dabble in a pressure cooker (without lid is the best heavy pot to fudge inches), it was Mr., that my grandmother told that once her green beans. I remember him pour in sugar and milk, and as I saw him, touch, what always seemed to me. Then Fudge control by dropping a small amount into a glass of ice water. I always knew that Fudge was made. He would put a little butter and vanilla in the IT field and sit at the table and mix it nonstop with her wooden spoon, until he said that was no longer shiny. Since it was not shiny it could pour into the bowl with butter, and it would be set, so it could cut into squares. I've always been due to an empty pot, when it cools, so I could invent scratch inside, I really enjoyed taking his good food. After tinkering has happened, my mother's chocolate chip cookies, while we girls helped get the components of the mixture. As I mentioned before my older sister who was six years older than me would gather eggs and sacks of flour and white sugar, when I was baking powder, butter, chocolate and brown sugar. My sister wanted to measure and pour into flour, white sugar and eggs, and I, with help from my sister, peace and pour into the brown sugar, butter and baking powder. We will alternate mix, and so both are poured into a toll house chips. We will take turns dropping the cookie dough in the pan and then mom would pop in the oven. In no time we could smell the cookies in the air. Oh, what a joy it was. Cookies are all finished, and left to cool, while we have our annual rounds, each district to look at the beautifully decorated home. When we returned, we have our bath and TV and going to story time. We were the night before Christmas, and How the Grinch stole Christmas. * More to come later. 
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