When she rounded the corner and found her two sons frozen in fear and covered from head to toe in white flour, she began to laugh. The ridiculously cute confusion on their faces and their slow grins were something she vowed to remember in the days ahead, when she’d be sick from the chemo and stuck in a hospital.
You say that you are here
But I do not see you
The sun rises but you are still asleep
One day soon you will come visit me
It may not be to your liking
But I will treasure it deeply.
She was covered in flour, head to toe, smiling at me like this was the greatest adventure of her life. Making Christmas cookies was always exciting, but there was a certain special nostalgia this year in particular, the flour dusting the bald patches on her head like snow.
I grinned cheekily, grabbing a handful of flour and throwing it at my friend.
“Hey!” She protested. “I’m the one doing the heavy lifting here!” She nodded at the tray of cupcakes in her hand. “Pick on someone else who’s bored!”
Flour is an essential ingredient in many desserts. If you have flour and fruit you can make a “healthy” dessert. I can’t do anything from scratch. I just buy things. I dont like flour.
THE BAG OF FLOUR WAS LYING ON THE FLOOR, HALF EMPTY. THE RATS WERE BEGINNING TO SNIFF AT IT EXPECTANTLY. THE OCCUPANTS OF THE HOUSE, DEAD SOME DAYS NOW, WOULD NOT BE ANY RICHER OR POORER FOR THE LOSS OF IT.
Sift thru every photo in that card board box. Did you really mean to tell me to get 3 boquets of flour???? Im not sure how that works…Did you see what I did right there!? ;-D
the whitest of flour whiter than the moon at the earliest hour its face speaks as it shines borrowing precious light as it reflects back only half as bright
Flour?? powder you mean. I don’t really bake cakes or do anything with flour. Totally writer’s block. hehe.. But I do use a lot of powder, as I get rashes easily.
The girl seldom mistakes hearing flour with flower. But when she heard of flour, and received a long-stemmed rose, the girl was flustered. As she thought she would be asked to bake a cake. And even more flustered to see the twinkling eyes of the gentleman who handed this different kind of ‘flour’, the sweet smelling one.
“Oh god. Mom’s gonna kill us.”
Flour caked the walls, eggs were splattered all over the floor, butter and oil and sugar were thrown in unlikely places.
“Are you talking about the mess, or the dead guy that caused it?”
I mixed the flour in with the sugar, added the vanilla extract. I licked the spoon. I couldn’t wait for the oven to preheat. I couldn’t wait for them to sit inside teasing me. I devoured the batter instead.
I wanted to make a cake, but we were out of flour. I went to the grocery store, but the store was closed for cleaning purposes. I thought I’d drive my car to the next available store, but my automobile just wouldn’t start. So I started to walk. Only I bore a whole in my shoe, faceplanted after tripping over a bump in the sidewalk, and wound up just having my girlfriend buy a cake on her way home from work.
She had heard of leaving a trail of breadcrumbs, sure, but this was something else– a line of floury white footprints leading from her kitchen’s back door into the deep woods.
The girl stooped down to look closely at them, puzzled. They weren’t even shoe marks, but impressions of bare feet, and they were surprisingly solid, as if every step had been freshly powdered. Even curiouser, there were tiny brown speckles dusted through every mark. Hesitantly, she dabbed a fingertip to one and tasted it. Her eyebrows arched as she identified not just the obvious flour but also cinnamon, nutmeg, and– was that a hint of clove? Had to be. She’d recognize that flavor anywhere.
The girl stood back up, furrowing her brow and humming a low note of consideration. This is the sort of thing they write fairy tales about, she mused. I’d best be careful…
Flour dusted his hands and he worked the dough with practiced fingers. He lost himself in the repetition, happy to keep his mind busy. His mom had been riding him to make some break for a while now, and though he had originally resisted, turns out his mom knew it was good for him.
Mąka była wszędzie, na szafkach, blatach, na stole czy podłodze. Po środku tego chaosu stał jego sprawca, Castiel. Próbował upiec swoje pierwsze ciasto, by zaimponować Deanowi. Powiedzieć, że mu nie poszło, było niedopowiedzeniem. To była kompletna katastrofa. Ale gdy Dean wrócił i zobaczył cały ten bałagan, nie zezłościł się, ale uśmiechnął. Liczy się gest.
I wanted to bake a cake but ended up injuring my husband badly instead. He was standing next to me, smoking, while I was pouring the flour into the bowl. I wanted to tease him a bit so I threw a bit of flour at him. I shouldn’t have done that…
“Oh you are so dead.”
I ran out the door avoiding my unavoidable death from a certain patchy white ghost.
“This was a new shirt Penelope! It’s J Crew and you better pay for a new one!”
The flour was all over the flour. The children had made quite a mess. Where were they? They would not be watching TV for a week. Wait. What were those tiny prints in the flour. Too small to belong to the kids.
There was flour everywhere! The floor was covered in the soft, white powder. Surprisingly, the bowl where it was all supposed to go, had received none of the flour.
i like flour, it makes yummy things for your mouth….but my belly doesn’t like flour unfortunately. it makes my belly hurt and then i get sad. i want to eat flour so bad. but thankfully they make other kinds of flour that i can eat.
She had white flour in her hair when Cory walked in. “What are you doing?” He laughed out. It was covering the entire floor. She dusted off her shirt.
“I was trying to make you a cake, but it exploded.” He walked over to her, his shoes leaving foot prints in the flour. He hugged her. “I’m sorry I made a mess, Cor.” They laughed.
My father is the chef in the family. Usually, that means that there is always good food on the table, but it also means that he is the head of the kitchen. He’s a fast chef, always whipping things together, but he likes to do it alone. Just once in a while, I’d like to get messy and get throw flour all over the counter and maybe make a pie.
flour is what i make all my yummy goodies with. cookies and brownies and cakes and more. flour could possibly be mistaken for flower, but it shouldnt beause flou is white goodness, but flowers are colorful, smelly delights
flour, we use flour to use in cooking or baking.Its white and powdery, just like powdered suger.
When she rounded the corner and found her two sons frozen in fear and covered from head to toe in white flour, she began to laugh. The ridiculously cute confusion on their faces and their slow grins were something she vowed to remember in the days ahead, when she’d be sick from the chemo and stuck in a hospital.
How I wish life could be as smooth as pure as useful as you. How I wish love could be as satisfying as you.
You say that you are here
But I do not see you
The sun rises but you are still asleep
One day soon you will come visit me
It may not be to your liking
But I will treasure it deeply.
She was covered in flour, head to toe, smiling at me like this was the greatest adventure of her life. Making Christmas cookies was always exciting, but there was a certain special nostalgia this year in particular, the flour dusting the bald patches on her head like snow.
I grinned cheekily, grabbing a handful of flour and throwing it at my friend.
“Hey!” She protested. “I’m the one doing the heavy lifting here!” She nodded at the tray of cupcakes in her hand. “Pick on someone else who’s bored!”
with which we can make a lot of eating stuff.in village folk it is a common one to start with a eday … on my childhood a memorable day starter often
Flour is an essential ingredient in many desserts. If you have flour and fruit you can make a “healthy” dessert. I can’t do anything from scratch. I just buy things. I dont like flour.
She was covered in flour. Head to toe. Every nook and every cranny. And it had all been Anthony’s fault.
He suggested the Old Mill as an excellent place to play. Liar. But it had been fun. She’ll concede that much.
THE BAG OF FLOUR WAS LYING ON THE FLOOR, HALF EMPTY. THE RATS WERE BEGINNING TO SNIFF AT IT EXPECTANTLY. THE OCCUPANTS OF THE HOUSE, DEAD SOME DAYS NOW, WOULD NOT BE ANY RICHER OR POORER FOR THE LOSS OF IT.
Sift thru every photo in that card board box. Did you really mean to tell me to get 3 boquets of flour???? Im not sure how that works…Did you see what I did right there!? ;-D
the whitest of flour whiter than the moon at the earliest hour its face speaks as it shines borrowing precious light as it reflects back only half as bright
It was white and powdery. It had a weird taste. I added water and it instantly because a sticky mixture.
it’s flour that cakes your fingers
pressed into clumps onto your skin
drifts as dust in the air
Flour?? powder you mean. I don’t really bake cakes or do anything with flour. Totally writer’s block. hehe.. But I do use a lot of powder, as I get rashes easily.
The girl seldom mistakes hearing flour with flower. But when she heard of flour, and received a long-stemmed rose, the girl was flustered. As she thought she would be asked to bake a cake. And even more flustered to see the twinkling eyes of the gentleman who handed this different kind of ‘flour’, the sweet smelling one.
“Oh god. Mom’s gonna kill us.”
Flour caked the walls, eggs were splattered all over the floor, butter and oil and sugar were thrown in unlikely places.
“Are you talking about the mess, or the dead guy that caused it?”
I mixed the flour in with the sugar, added the vanilla extract. I licked the spoon. I couldn’t wait for the oven to preheat. I couldn’t wait for them to sit inside teasing me. I devoured the batter instead.
I wanted to make a cake, but we were out of flour. I went to the grocery store, but the store was closed for cleaning purposes. I thought I’d drive my car to the next available store, but my automobile just wouldn’t start. So I started to walk. Only I bore a whole in my shoe, faceplanted after tripping over a bump in the sidewalk, and wound up just having my girlfriend buy a cake on her way home from work.
She had heard of leaving a trail of breadcrumbs, sure, but this was something else– a line of floury white footprints leading from her kitchen’s back door into the deep woods.
The girl stooped down to look closely at them, puzzled. They weren’t even shoe marks, but impressions of bare feet, and they were surprisingly solid, as if every step had been freshly powdered. Even curiouser, there were tiny brown speckles dusted through every mark. Hesitantly, she dabbed a fingertip to one and tasted it. Her eyebrows arched as she identified not just the obvious flour but also cinnamon, nutmeg, and– was that a hint of clove? Had to be. She’d recognize that flavor anywhere.
The girl stood back up, furrowing her brow and humming a low note of consideration. This is the sort of thing they write fairy tales about, she mused. I’d best be careful…
i can’t forget all the dishes of mom special which are with the flour ^___^
Flour dusted his hands and he worked the dough with practiced fingers. He lost himself in the repetition, happy to keep his mind busy. His mom had been riding him to make some break for a while now, and though he had originally resisted, turns out his mom knew it was good for him.
The flour hit the floor. He was dead the man who killed him wanted him to suffer longer but the mess he made left evidence
Chocolate cake with cream cheese icing. I can’t bake to save my left toe. Lol
Mąka była wszędzie, na szafkach, blatach, na stole czy podłodze. Po środku tego chaosu stał jego sprawca, Castiel. Próbował upiec swoje pierwsze ciasto, by zaimponować Deanowi. Powiedzieć, że mu nie poszło, było niedopowiedzeniem. To była kompletna katastrofa. Ale gdy Dean wrócił i zobaczył cały ten bałagan, nie zezłościł się, ale uśmiechnął. Liczy się gest.
Having flour allows one to make bread. A necessity for enjoying a sandwich.
how you gonna bake your cake? flour
how you gonna make your bread? flour
how you going to give someone with gluten intolerance diarrhea? flour
I wanted to bake a cake but ended up injuring my husband badly instead. He was standing next to me, smoking, while I was pouring the flour into the bowl. I wanted to tease him a bit so I threw a bit of flour at him. I shouldn’t have done that…
“Oh you are so dead.”
I ran out the door avoiding my unavoidable death from a certain patchy white ghost.
“This was a new shirt Penelope! It’s J Crew and you better pay for a new one!”
Ooo! I meant the flour was all over the floor. :)
The flour was all over the flour. The children had made quite a mess. Where were they? They would not be watching TV for a week. Wait. What were those tiny prints in the flour. Too small to belong to the kids.
Pasta. Cake. A beautiful cheese sauce.
Have you ever known the wonder of flour in its many forms?
I have. It’s my tickled delight – every finger passing through floured counters for bread, pans made ready for baked joy.
Flour – you had me at hello.
There was flour everywhere! The floor was covered in the soft, white powder. Surprisingly, the bowl where it was all supposed to go, had received none of the flour.
I heard a giggle come from the other room.
Baking is something fun, but extremely hard to do if you live twenty miles away from the nearest planet that supplies flour.
“I can’t believe you just dumped flour all over the floor. What were you thinking?” Michael shouted at a very red Luke.
“I just wanted to help you Mikey. I never intended on you getting mad.”
“Well, I am so you should just leave this kitchen.”
i like flour, it makes yummy things for your mouth….but my belly doesn’t like flour unfortunately. it makes my belly hurt and then i get sad. i want to eat flour so bad. but thankfully they make other kinds of flour that i can eat.
She had white flour in her hair when Cory walked in. “What are you doing?” He laughed out. It was covering the entire floor. She dusted off her shirt.
“I was trying to make you a cake, but it exploded.” He walked over to her, his shoes leaving foot prints in the flour. He hugged her. “I’m sorry I made a mess, Cor.” They laughed.
My father is the chef in the family. Usually, that means that there is always good food on the table, but it also means that he is the head of the kitchen. He’s a fast chef, always whipping things together, but he likes to do it alone. Just once in a while, I’d like to get messy and get throw flour all over the counter and maybe make a pie.
flour is what i make all my yummy goodies with. cookies and brownies and cakes and more. flour could possibly be mistaken for flower, but it shouldnt beause flou is white goodness, but flowers are colorful, smelly delights
Finely ground white fluffy and powdery. Used in baking, Is bland and flavourless.