The smell of the gingerbread men in the oven was delicious. I loved the smell of baked goods and it made me miss home even more. I was tired and maybe it was time to end the argument. Maybe it was time for me to return home to my family and bake our own gingerbread cookies and laugh and smile like his family was letting me share in.
the ove was stone cold even though the gass had been on for an hour or so. Kelly went to check the piolt light. the light was, again out. She turned of the gass and aried out the room. She could not figure out why her father would turn on the gas and leave. Stupid oven. after the air cleared she came back to light the piolt. Thats when she found him. Her father was systemmatically redirecting the gas into a baloon. Not a childrens party kbaloon but some kind of “hot air” baloon. Dad she yelled what are you dooing? Iwanted to go for a trip. You know, like Richard Branson. So I figured I could use the gas from the Oven since I wernt cookin’ nothin anyways.
Dad! You can’t fill a baloon with propane! You going to blow up the house! Mom was right. You are a crazy fool!
But Kells, I know I cando this. Me and the oven talked ’bout it last night and she agreed that her gas could get me around this big ‘ol planet and then some.
Dan ovens are for cooking not flying. Now I’m going to have to call the fire department again. Do you remnember what happened lalst time?
John looked puzzled as Kelly took him down memmory lane:
Halloween 1999, you dcieded that we could all take a trip like Huck Fin down the Missippi but instead of a raft you hired a house mover to take the house to the river and tried to float it! We had to call the coast gard to get you and the house out of the river! They said if you stoped taking your medication that they would put you back in that hospital.
I don’t wantta go backto that damnd hospital kells. They an’t got no ovens to talk to!
i can smell the heat coming from behind
i really often wonder what mother has in store for me
we can sit and stare at this screen with friends and watching random showa
so let’s just end this war of eyes and smell the bliss now
The oven was scorching hot. she kept peering into it hoping her bread would finish soon. he was going to be there any minute. she checked her watch again. almost time. almost. almost. done!
And she put the last of the cookies in the oven and smiled, watching them puff up into big round golden greasy cookies. The aroma of chocolate chip filled the kitchen. Yummm.
The oven did not scare me anymore. I entered and closed the door behind, asking him to put the maximum temperature. I was ready to die like a cookie. A proud one. And no one could stop me.
the oven is a warm place beautiful creative a place o do anything i love the oven because of a burst of warm air and the coolness i suddently feel on my feet because they do not get the oven feeling everybody wants to put their hainds over the oven because it feels good.
The oven opened, sending a burst of warm air into the room. I pulled out the golden bread and set it on the counter before turning off the oven. It (the oven) promptly exploded. I stood, ashen-faced (literally) and stared at it incredulously. What? What just happened? I looked at the ninja who was hanging upside down on my ceiling and glared.
I like to cook food in an oven. In them i like to make apple pie and blueberry pie. I would be lost without an oven. It is a good thing that ovens were invented.
baked potatoes are rotting in the oven. they smell really good. smoke is coming out of the house, people are dying on the streets because of it. they smoke cigarette and thats what kills the potatoes.
The oven is what kills the house in Ray Bradbury’s short story- I forget the name of the story. Something about rain, it’s a line in the poem that the house reads to the mistress of the house- not realizing that she and everyone else is dead. Then the house itself dies, and the city is completely dead.
“Because.”
“Oh, that’s a great reason,” Andy folded her arms and glared at him. She wanted to stick his head in the oven. She wanted to eat something that wasn’t doritos. She wanted to take a long hot bath and change her bra and sleep on a bed, but none of those things were magically happening, either.
Nathaniel just shrugged.
Bun in the oven? Bread in the oven. I should be making banana bread. I have ripe bananas just waiting for me to mash them up, mix them up, and make a loaf of bread out of them… hmmmm…
The oven is my haven. I cook and bake away through my problems. The sweet smells from the delicatessans fill me up and cleans me like water washing me clean… so calming…
oven is something that you put food in to cook, or to heat up. it is a very cool invention, and has made ahuge difference to the modern world. the oven was a great friend of mine, R.I.P i love you oven.
I have an oven in my kitchen. Well, most people do. I burned the back of my leg on it once when I was little. It might have been my dad’s fault; he told me to stand up against it to feel the warmth when he was cooking something. That was the first time I’ve ever gotten burned. The second two times were both on my thumb. Once was on a lightbulb, and the other was on a grill.
The oven produced the hottest buns id ever seen. The minute i opened the door i could smell the delicious sent of cinnimon which then infused throughout the whole kitchen as if it were a candle. I wanted to eat them the second they came out of the oven but they were too hot.
She stared dejectedly into the oven. “Lovely,” he groused. “Dinner is in a hour and I’ve single handedly burned the trukey beyond all recognition. Freaking fantastic.”
the oven helps us cook our favorites – cookies, pies, cakes, etc. the oven should never be left on when leaving the house, as should the dryer. also, you should clean your oven whenever there is a spill.
An oven heats, somewhere in the bowels of a palace. A baker prepares to begin her craft, creating delicious wares for the royalty that still sleeps floors above her. Cakes and breads, loaves filled with fruits and icings, all for a small enjoyment by those that run the world. They need a bit of enjoyment now and then, she muses.
Ovens are really fun to play with. If you stick your hands on the flames then you’ll get burnt, though. They smell really nice…I love the smell of gas cooking. It reminds me of cookies. Every time my dad makes cookies I am the first one to sneak into the kitchen and steal all of the dough. I love to lick the batter. It’s sooo good.
place to cook shit can be mega hot sometimes also will burn yo ass, saw a movie where some chick committed suicide by placing her entire head in an oven. a while back i spilled some grease in the bottom of mine without knowing and the next thing i knew it was on fire
I like ovens. They make muffins and yummy fattening foods. My oven is covered in charcoal from messy baking projects. When I cook on it, it always sets off the smoke detector. My dad has no idea that I spilled about a pound of molasses when I was baking cookies at the bottom of my ovens. I burned my hands getting the mess up.
An oven is the most beautiful creation known to makning it wis so beatutifl aa=ylu s wil l snot snkwo skah whiti s you , ain in tdeed it was iso tob eustiyl afthat i have jnow idea what it is@ thwe fire is burnng very hot write now
ovens are big, warm spaces that love churns out of quietly like a gentle healing touch, in a cookie, or a casserole baked to perfection. better to use in the winter, when you take refuge in all sorts of ways, crawling inside, away from the storms and cold of the world. they are used frequently and to much joy.
an oven is a thing where you cook things in, you can burn stuff easily and you can only leave food in it for a certain amount of time. One time, my mom burnt a cake in the oven. Some people perfer to use a microwave as it is easier to use, arguably.
It’s an oven. Again. I’m never going to be able to look at the word without a shudder. And maybe, when I shudder, I’m going to shudder lots. And then you will all be sorry for making me shudder.
Yes. That’s right. I am shuddering. But Cornelia and Edward are still in the galley (I said kitchen last time, not making that mistake again…), in love with each other.
It’s an oven. Again. Maybe it really is an omen. Or i’s one word a day? That would be funny. I should compile all my wonderful ovens and build an oven city with the ovens. How many times have I used ovens? I’ll count the ovens later, Mom. It’s time to go to school. woudn’t you like to hear that?
Another oven? This time maybe it’s a very hot one. Cornelia was again baking lasagna, if I spelled that right it’s a miracle. Cornelia had made vegetarian this time though, since for some reason Pinkie could no longer bear the smell of beef and tomatoes.
Poor Pinkie. All alone in her hatred of meat and tomatoes.
The oven beeped as the timer went off. There was nothing to do but open the door and take out the steaming hot lasanga within. Cornelia ran to the oven and did so, breathing in the delicious smell of freshly baked lasanga.
Lasanga was good. Very good.
Both Pinkie and Edward agreed. Lasagna was very good indeed.
The oven warms the pie infusing the room with cinnamon, spices, and apple love.
The smell of the gingerbread men in the oven was delicious. I loved the smell of baked goods and it made me miss home even more. I was tired and maybe it was time to end the argument. Maybe it was time for me to return home to my family and bake our own gingerbread cookies and laugh and smile like his family was letting me share in.
the ove was stone cold even though the gass had been on for an hour or so. Kelly went to check the piolt light. the light was, again out. She turned of the gass and aried out the room. She could not figure out why her father would turn on the gas and leave. Stupid oven. after the air cleared she came back to light the piolt. Thats when she found him. Her father was systemmatically redirecting the gas into a baloon. Not a childrens party kbaloon but some kind of “hot air” baloon. Dad she yelled what are you dooing? Iwanted to go for a trip. You know, like Richard Branson. So I figured I could use the gas from the Oven since I wernt cookin’ nothin anyways.
Dad! You can’t fill a baloon with propane! You going to blow up the house! Mom was right. You are a crazy fool!
But Kells, I know I cando this. Me and the oven talked ’bout it last night and she agreed that her gas could get me around this big ‘ol planet and then some.
Dan ovens are for cooking not flying. Now I’m going to have to call the fire department again. Do you remnember what happened lalst time?
John looked puzzled as Kelly took him down memmory lane:
Halloween 1999, you dcieded that we could all take a trip like Huck Fin down the Missippi but instead of a raft you hired a house mover to take the house to the river and tried to float it! We had to call the coast gard to get you and the house out of the river! They said if you stoped taking your medication that they would put you back in that hospital.
I don’t wantta go backto that damnd hospital kells. They an’t got no ovens to talk to!
everything that goes in the oven comes out of it changed,
I wish I had the courage to put my head inside it now and then. I don’t think it’s been working properly these days.
It is for cooking food.
i can smell the heat coming from behind
i really often wonder what mother has in store for me
we can sit and stare at this screen with friends and watching random showa
so let’s just end this war of eyes and smell the bliss now
now now now. stomach growls, now now now.
The oven was scorching hot. she kept peering into it hoping her bread would finish soon. he was going to be there any minute. she checked her watch again. almost time. almost. almost. done!
And she put the last of the cookies in the oven and smiled, watching them puff up into big round golden greasy cookies. The aroma of chocolate chip filled the kitchen. Yummm.
The oven did not scare me anymore. I entered and closed the door behind, asking him to put the maximum temperature. I was ready to die like a cookie. A proud one. And no one could stop me.
the oven is a warm place beautiful creative a place o do anything i love the oven because of a burst of warm air and the coolness i suddently feel on my feet because they do not get the oven feeling everybody wants to put their hainds over the oven because it feels good.
split level, warming, cooking, cakes, polly put the kettle on
The oven opened, sending a burst of warm air into the room. I pulled out the golden bread and set it on the counter before turning off the oven. It (the oven) promptly exploded. I stood, ashen-faced (literally) and stared at it incredulously. What? What just happened? I looked at the ninja who was hanging upside down on my ceiling and glared.
I like to cook food in an oven. In them i like to make apple pie and blueberry pie. I would be lost without an oven. It is a good thing that ovens were invented.
goldfish
baked potatoes are rotting in the oven. they smell really good. smoke is coming out of the house, people are dying on the streets because of it. they smoke cigarette and thats what kills the potatoes.
The oven is what kills the house in Ray Bradbury’s short story- I forget the name of the story. Something about rain, it’s a line in the poem that the house reads to the mistress of the house- not realizing that she and everyone else is dead. Then the house itself dies, and the city is completely dead.
warm
“Because.”
“Oh, that’s a great reason,” Andy folded her arms and glared at him. She wanted to stick his head in the oven. She wanted to eat something that wasn’t doritos. She wanted to take a long hot bath and change her bra and sleep on a bed, but none of those things were magically happening, either.
Nathaniel just shrugged.
Bun in the oven? Bread in the oven. I should be making banana bread. I have ripe bananas just waiting for me to mash them up, mix them up, and make a loaf of bread out of them… hmmmm…
The oven is my haven. I cook and bake away through my problems. The sweet smells from the delicatessans fill me up and cleans me like water washing me clean… so calming…
oven is something that you put food in to cook, or to heat up. it is a very cool invention, and has made ahuge difference to the modern world. the oven was a great friend of mine, R.I.P i love you oven.
I have an oven in my kitchen. Well, most people do. I burned the back of my leg on it once when I was little. It might have been my dad’s fault; he told me to stand up against it to feel the warmth when he was cooking something. That was the first time I’ve ever gotten burned. The second two times were both on my thumb. Once was on a lightbulb, and the other was on a grill.
He opened the oven and, as the hot air rushed out, nearly burning his hands, he checked to see if the turkey was done. It was not.
your arms.
i am no longer cold.
your touch, heats me
in the morning we can rise
like yeast
and i will say to you
your love is like an oven
and you won’t understand, but you’ll be very sweet.
The oven produced the hottest buns id ever seen. The minute i opened the door i could smell the delicious sent of cinnimon which then infused throughout the whole kitchen as if it were a candle. I wanted to eat them the second they came out of the oven but they were too hot.
She stared dejectedly into the oven. “Lovely,” he groused. “Dinner is in a hour and I’ve single handedly burned the trukey beyond all recognition. Freaking fantastic.”
Thanksgiving was not goin to end well this year
Bakes things. Put food in there. Don’t leave it on if you’re not using it. Has to be preheated.
the oven helps us cook our favorites – cookies, pies, cakes, etc. the oven should never be left on when leaving the house, as should the dryer. also, you should clean your oven whenever there is a spill.
An oven heats, somewhere in the bowels of a palace. A baker prepares to begin her craft, creating delicious wares for the royalty that still sleeps floors above her. Cakes and breads, loaves filled with fruits and icings, all for a small enjoyment by those that run the world. They need a bit of enjoyment now and then, she muses.
Ovens are really fun to play with. If you stick your hands on the flames then you’ll get burnt, though. They smell really nice…I love the smell of gas cooking. It reminds me of cookies. Every time my dad makes cookies I am the first one to sneak into the kitchen and steal all of the dough. I love to lick the batter. It’s sooo good.
place to cook shit can be mega hot sometimes also will burn yo ass, saw a movie where some chick committed suicide by placing her entire head in an oven. a while back i spilled some grease in the bottom of mine without knowing and the next thing i knew it was on fire
I like ovens. They make muffins and yummy fattening foods. My oven is covered in charcoal from messy baking projects. When I cook on it, it always sets off the smoke detector. My dad has no idea that I spilled about a pound of molasses when I was baking cookies at the bottom of my ovens. I burned my hands getting the mess up.
An oven is the most beautiful creation known to makning it wis so beatutifl aa=ylu s wil l snot snkwo skah whiti s you , ain in tdeed it was iso tob eustiyl afthat i have jnow idea what it is@ thwe fire is burnng very hot write now
ovens are big, warm spaces that love churns out of quietly like a gentle healing touch, in a cookie, or a casserole baked to perfection. better to use in the winter, when you take refuge in all sorts of ways, crawling inside, away from the storms and cold of the world. they are used frequently and to much joy.
an oven is a thing where you cook things in, you can burn stuff easily and you can only leave food in it for a certain amount of time. One time, my mom burnt a cake in the oven. Some people perfer to use a microwave as it is easier to use, arguably.
It’s an oven. Again. I’m never going to be able to look at the word without a shudder. And maybe, when I shudder, I’m going to shudder lots. And then you will all be sorry for making me shudder.
Yes. That’s right. I am shuddering. But Cornelia and Edward are still in the galley (I said kitchen last time, not making that mistake again…), in love with each other.
It’s an oven. Again. Maybe it really is an omen. Or i’s one word a day? That would be funny. I should compile all my wonderful ovens and build an oven city with the ovens. How many times have I used ovens? I’ll count the ovens later, Mom. It’s time to go to school. woudn’t you like to hear that?
Another oven? This time maybe it’s a very hot one. Cornelia was again baking lasagna, if I spelled that right it’s a miracle. Cornelia had made vegetarian this time though, since for some reason Pinkie could no longer bear the smell of beef and tomatoes.
Poor Pinkie. All alone in her hatred of meat and tomatoes.
The oven beeped as the timer went off. There was nothing to do but open the door and take out the steaming hot lasanga within. Cornelia ran to the oven and did so, breathing in the delicious smell of freshly baked lasanga.
Lasanga was good. Very good.
Both Pinkie and Edward agreed. Lasagna was very good indeed.
ovens r used for baking cakes baking muffin’s ect:…. thay r realy hot and can burn u so:. u have to watch out !!!! or OWE!!!