A Holiday favorite whether in song or story, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. It's also a story/song with a good lesson, Different doesn't mean bad.
Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer
You know Dasher, and Dancer, and
Prancer, and Vixen,
Comet, and Cupid, and
Donder and Blitzen
But do you recall
The most famous reindeer of all
Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer
had a very shiny nose
and if you ever saw it
you would even say it glows.
All of the other reindeer
used to laugh and call him names
They never let poor Rudolph
play in any reindeer games.
Then one foggy Christmas eve
Santa came to say:
"Rudolph with your nose so bright,
won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"
Then all the reindeer loved him
as they shouted out with glee,
Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer,
you'll go down in history!
I wondered and wondered what kind of "cooking" could I have the kids do with this song and Voila! I found my answer on Pinterest! I love Pinterest! I actually found quite a few cute recipes but I decided on just two of them. The first recipe is very simple and needs only 4 ingredients ~ Reindeer Paws and Noses are just too cute! The second recipe for Reindeer Corn Cookie Bark is just too pretty and too tasty to leave out! I hope you enjoy making both and don't miss the Rudolph cartoon at the end of the blog! Happy Holidays!
Reindeer Paws and Noses
Ingredients
Mini Twist Pretzels
Rolos Candies
Chocolate Candy Coated Peanut Candies
Pecans
Instructions
Preheat the oven to warm.
On a cookie sheet, place a single later of mini twist pretzels.
Unwrap the Rolos and place one on top of each pretzel.
Place into the oven until the Rolo is just melted (3-5minutes depending on the temperature of the oven)
Remove from oven and immediately place a pecan for paws or a
chocolate candy coated peanut candy onto the melted Rolo and gently
press. Allow to set.
14 whole Oreos, broken up. I used the holiday ones with the red filling but regular will work fine
1 1/2 C pretzels, broken into pieces. I used the small stick pretzels
1 lb. white chocolate, almond bark or melts found in the bulk food section
1 C reindeer corn
red and green colored sprinkles
Instructions
Cover a large cookie sheet with wax paper
Spread broken cookes, pretzels and about 3/4 C of the candy corn onto the waxed paper
Place white chocolate in a container and microwave for 1 1/2 minutes
Stir and then microwave for another 30 seconds until melted and smooth
White chocolate melts faster and burns easier than chocolate
Drizzle the melted chocolate over the cookie mixture, spreading with spatula if needed to coat evenly
Sprinkle remaining candy corn and colored sprinkles over the chocolate while it is still wet
Do not let it harden
Place cookie tray into refrigerator until set and firm
Remove and gently break bark into small pieces
Store in air tight container
This cartoon version of "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" was originally released in 1948 by Max
Fleischer Studios. (Notice: This motion picture is in the Public Domain
and is not subject to Copyright.)
There WAS ONCE UPON A TIME an old woman who wanted an apple dumpling for supper. She had plenty of flour and plenty of butter, plenty of sugar and plenty of spice for a dozen dumplings, but there was one thing she did not have; and that was apples.
She had plums, a tree full of them, the roundest and reddest that you can imagine; but, though you can make butter from cream and raisins of grapes, you cannot make an apple dumpling with plums, and there is no use trying.
The more the old woman thought of the dumpling the more she wanted it, and at last she dressed herself in her finest clothes and started out to seek a basket of apples.
Before she left home, however, she filled a basket with plums from her plum-tree and covering it over with a white cloth, hung it on her arm, for she said to herself: "There may be those in the world who have apples, and need plums."
She had not gone very far when she came to a poultry yard filled with fine hens and geese and guineas. Ca-ca, quawk, quawk, poterack! What a noise they made; and in the midst of them stood a young woman who was feeding them with yellow corn. She nodded pleasantly to the old woman, and the old woman nodded to her, and soon the two were talking as if they had known each other always.
The young woman told the old woman about her fowls and the old woman told the young woman about the apple dumpling and the basket of plums for which she hoped to get apples.
"Dear me," said the young woman when she heard this, "there is nothing my husband likes better than plum jelly with goose, but unless you will take a bag of feathers for your plums he must do without, for that is the best I can offer you."
"One pleased is better than two disappointed," said the old woman. And she emptied the plums into the young woman's apron and putting the bag of feathers into her basket trudged on as merrily as before; for she said to herself: "If I am no nearer the dumpling than when I left home, I am at least no farther from it; and that feathers are lighter to carry than plums nobody can deny."
Trudge, trudge, up hill and down she went, and presently she came to a garden of sweet flowers: lilies, lilacs, violets, roses --oh, never was there a lovelier garden.
The old woman stopped at the gate to admire the flowers; and as she looked she heard a man and a woman quarreling.
"Cotton," said the woman. "Straw," said the man. "'Tis not--" "'Tis!" they cried, and so it went between them, till they spied the old woman at the gate.
"Here is one who will settle the matter," said the woman then; and she called to the old woman: "Good mother, answer me this: If you were making a cushion for your grandfather's chair would you not stuff it with cotton?"
"No," said the old woman.
"I told you so," cried the man. "Straw is the thing, and ye need to go farther than the barn for it;" but the old woman shook her hand.
"I would not stuff the cushion with straw, either," said she, and it would have been hard to tell which one was the more cast down by her answer, the man or the woman. But the old woman made haste to take the bag of feathers out of her basket, and give it to them.
"A feather cushion is fit for a king," she said, "and as for me, an apple for a dumpling, or a bouquet from your garden will serve me as well as what I give."
The man and the woman had no apples, but they were glad to exchange a bouquet from their garden of the loveliest flowers; lilies, lilacs, roses--oh! never was there a sweeter bouquet.
"A good bargain, and not all of it in the basket," said the old woman, for she was pleased to have stopped the quarrel, and when she had wished the two good fortune and a long life, she went upon her way.
Now her way was the king's highway, and as she walked there she met a young lord who was dressed in his finest clothes, for he was going to see his lady love. He would have been as handsome a young man as ever the sun shone on had it not been that his forehead was wrinkled into a terrible frown, and the corners of his mouth drawn down as if he had not a friend left in the whole world.
"A fair day and a good road," said the old woman, stopping to drop him a curtsey.
"Fair or foul, good or bad, 'tis all the same to me," said he, "when the court jeweler has forgotten to send the ring he promised, and I must go to my lady with empty hands."
"So you shall have a gift for your lady," said the old woman, "though I may never have an apple dumpling." And she took the bouquet from her basket and gave it to the young lord which pleased him so much that the frown smoothed away from his forehead, and his mouth spread itself in a smile, and he was as handsome a young man as ever the sun shone on.
"Fair exchange is no robbery," said he, and he unfastened a golden chain from round his neck and gave it to the old woman, and went away holding his bouquet with great care.
The old woman was delighted.
"With this golden chain I might buy all the apples in the king's market, and then have something to spare," she said to herself, as she hurried away toward town as fast as her feet could carry her.
But she had gone no farther than the turn of the road when she came upon a mother and children, standing in a doorway, whose faces were as sorrowful as her own was happy.
"What is the matter?" she asked as soon as she reached them.
"Matter enough," answered the mother, "when the last crust of bread is eaten and not a farthing in the house to buy more."
"Well-a-day," cried the old woman when this was told her. "Never shall it be said of me that I eat apple dumpling for supper while my neighbors lack bread," and she put the golden chain into the mother's hands and hurried on without waiting for thanks.
She was not out of sight of the house, though, when the mother and children, every one of them laughing and talking merrily, overtook her.
"Little have we to give you," said the mother who was the happiest of all, "for that you have done for us, but here is a little dog, whose barking will keep loneliness from your house, and our thanks goes with it."
The old woman did not have the heart to tell them no, so into the basket went the little dog, and very snugly he lay there.
"A bag of feathers for a basket of plums; a bouquet of flowers for a bag of feathers; a golden chain for a bouquet of flowers; a dog for a golden chain; all the world is give and take, and who knows but that I may have my apple dumpling yet," said the old woman as she hurried on.
And sure enough she had not gone a half dozen yards when, right before her, she saw an apple tree as full of apples as her plum tree was full of plums. It grew in front of a house as much like her own as if the two were peas in the same pod; and on the porch of the house sat a little old man.
"A fine tree of apples," called the old woman as soon as she was in speaking distance of him.
"Aye, but apple trees and apples are poor company when a man is growing old," said the old man, "and I would give them all if I had even so much as a little dog to bark on my door-step."
"Bow-wow," called the dog in the old woman's basket, and in less time than it takes to read this story he was barking on the old man's door-step, and the old woman was on her way home with a basket of apples on her arm.
"If you try long enough and hard enough, you can always have an apple dumpling for supper," said the old woman, and she ate the dumpling to the very last crumb. And how she enjoyed it, too!
Apple Dumplings
RECIPE INGREDIENTS: 1/4 cup raisins 1/4 cup dried, sweetened cranberries 1/4 cup chopped walnuts 1/2 tsp. cinnamon 1/2 tsp. nutmeg Premade pastry for an 8- or 9-inch 2 crust pie 4 small, cored baking apples 1 cup brown sugar 1 cup water
Directions: 1. Combine the raisins, cranberries, walnuts and spices in a bowl and set aside.
2. On a lightly floured cloth-covered surface, roll out the pastry into a 14-inch square, then cut it into 4 squares.
3. Place a cored apple on top of each square and fill the center with the raisin and cranberry mix.
4. Cover each apple with its pastry square by bringing the opposite corners up over the fruit and pinching them together. Then, seal together all of the pastry edges, moistening them with water if needed.
5. Place the dumplings in a glass baking dish.
6. In a saucepan, bring the brown sugar and water to a boil, and then pour it over the dumplings (a parent's job).
7. Bake in a preheated 425 degree oven, spooning the syrup over the dumplings a few times, until the crust is golden (about 40 minutes).
DIRECTIONS In a small mixing bowl, dissolve yeast in milk. Stir in butter, egg, sugar and salt. Combine 3/4 cup flour, raisins, currants, cinnamon and allspice; add to the yeast mixture and mix well. Stir in enough remaining flour to form a soft dough. Turn onto a floured surface; knead until smooth and elastic, about 4-6 minutes. Place in a greased bowl, turning once to grease top. Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled, about 1 hour.
Punch dough down; shape into six 2-in. balls. Place 2 in. apart on a baking sheet coated with nonstick cooking spray. Using a sharp knife, cut a cross on top of each bun. Cover and let rise until doubled, about 30 minutes.
Beat egg yolk and water; brush over buns. Bake at 375 degrees F for 13-15 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on wire racks.
Combine icing ingredients; pipe over buns.
Patience Required Hot Cross Buns
1 cup milk 2 tablespoons yeast 1/2 cup sugar 2 teaspoons salt 1/3 cup butter, melted and cooled 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1/2 teaspoons nutmeg 4 eggs 5 cups flour 1 1/3 cups currants or raisins 1 egg white
Instructions: In a small saucepan, heat milk to very warm, but not hot (110°F if using a candy thermometer). Fit an electric mixer with a dough hook. Pour warm milk in the bowl of mixer and sprinkle yeast over. Mix to dissolve and let sit for 5 minutes.
With mixer running at low speed, add sugar, salt, butter, cinnamon, nutmeg and eggs. Gradually add flour, dough will be wet and sticky, and continue kneading with dough hook until smooth, about 5 minutes. Detach bowl, cover with plastic wrap and let the dough "rest" for 30-45 minutes.
Return bowl to mixer and knead until smooth and elastic, for about 3 more minutes. Add currants or raisins and knead until well mixed. At this point, dough will still be fairly wet and sticky. Shape dough in a ball, place in a buttered dish, cover with plastic wrap and let rise overnight in the refrigerator. Excess moisture will be absorbed by the morning.
(In the morning....) Let dough sit at room temperature for about a half-hour. Line a large baking pan (or pans) with parchment paper (you could also lightly grease a baking pan, but parchment works better). Divide dough into 24 equal pieces (in half, half again, etc., etc.). Shape each portion into a ball and place on baking sheet, about 1/2 inch apart. Cover with a clean kitchen towel and let rise in a warm, draft-free place until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 hours.
In the meantime, pre-heat oven to 400°F. When buns have risen, take a sharp or serrated knife and carefully slash buns with a cross. Brush them with egg white and place in oven. Bake for 10 minutes, then reduce heat to 350°F, then bake until golden brown, about 15 minutes more. Transfer to a wire rack. Whisk together glaze ingredients, and spoon over buns in a cross pattern. Serve warm, if possible.
We're forty performing bananas, in bright yellow slippery skins, our features are rather appealing, though we've neither shoulders nor chins, we cha-cha, fandango, and tango, we kick and we skip and we hop, while half of us belt out a ballad, the rest of us spin like a top.
We're forty performing bananas, we mambo, we samba, we waltz, we dangle and swing from the ceiling, then turn very slick somersaults, people drive here in bunches to see us, our splits earn us worldly renown, we're forty performing bananas, come see us when you are in town. by Jack Prelutsky
Banananananana...
I thought I'd win the spelling bee And get right to the top, But I started to spell "banana", And I didn't know when to stop.
by William Cole
both poems from Laughing Out Loud Poems to Tickle Your Funnybone
BANANA SMOOTHIE
Ingredients: 1 small frozen banana, cut into chunks 1/2 cup plain low-fat yogurt 1/4 cup orange juice
Put all ingredients into the blender and blend until smooth. The smoothies will be fairly thick. Add more liquid if you want them thinner. Makes 2 servings. Make up your own variations using other fruits and juices.
Banana Muffins
Ingredients: 1/2 cup of butter 1 cup brown sugar 2 eggs 1 1/2 cups flour 1 tsp. baking soda 1/4 tsp. salt 1 teaspoon of vanilla 1 1/2 tsp. baking powder 1/4 cup sour cream 3 large bananas, mashed
Directions: 1. Cream together butter and sugar. 2. When creamy, add the eggs, sour cream, mashed bananas, and vanilla. 3. Mix all dry ingredients and add to mixture. 3. Bake at 350 degrees in cup-cake pans for approximately 15 minutes or until lightly golden.
It was summer in the land of Denmark, and though for most of the year the country looks flat and ugly, it was beautiful now. The wheat was yellow, the oats were green, the hay was dry and delicious to roll in, and from the old ruined house which nobody lived in, down to the edge of the canal, was a forest of great burdocks, so tall that a whole family of children might have dwelt in them and never have been found out.
It was under these burdocks that a duck had built herself a warm nest, and was not sitting all day on six pretty eggs. Five of them were white, but the sixth, which was larger than the others, was of an ugly grey colour. The duck was always puzzled about that egg, and how it came to be so different from the rest. Other birds might have thought that when the duck went down in the morning and evening to the water to stretch her legs in a good swim, some lazy mother might have been on the watch, and have popped her egg into the nest. But ducks are not clever at all, and are not quick at counting, so this duck did not worry herself about the matter, but just took care that the big egg should be as warm as the rest.
This was the first set of eggs that the duck had ever laid, and, to begin with, she was very pleased and proud, and laughed at the other mothers, who were always neglecting their duties to gossip with each other or to take little extra swims besides the two in the morning and evening that were necessary for health. But at length she grew tired of sitting there all day. 'Surely eggs take longer hatching than they did,' she said to herself; and she pined for a little amusement also. Still, she knew that if she left her eggs and the ducklings in them to die none of her friends would ever speak to her again; so there she stayed, only getting off the eggs several times a day to see if the shells were cracking--which may have been the very reason why they did not crack sooner.
She had looked at the eggs at least a hundred and fifty times, when, to her joy, she saw a tiny crack on two of them, and scrambling back to the nest she drew the eggs closer the one to the other, and never moved for the whole of that day. Next morning she was rewarded by noticing cracks in the whole five eggs, and by midday two little yellow heads were poking out from the shells. This encouraged her so much that, after breaking the shells with her bill, so that the little creatures could get free of them, she sat steadily for a whole night upon the nest, and before the sun arose the five white eggs were empty, and ten pairs of eyes were gazing out upon the green world.
Now the duck had been carefully brought up, and did not like dirt, and, besides, broken shells are not at all comfortable things to sit or walk upon; so she pushed the rest out over the side, and felt delighted to have some company to talk to till the big egg hatched. But day after day went on, and the big egg showed no signs of cracking, and the duck grew more and more impatient, and began to wish to consult her husband, who never came.
'I can't think what is the matter with it,' the duck grumbled to her neighbour who had called in to pay her a visit. 'Why I could have hatched two broods in the time that this one has taken!'
'Let me look at it,' said the old neighbour. 'Ah, I thought so; it is a turkey's egg. Once, when I was young, they tricked me to sitting on a brood of turkey's eggs myself, and when they were hatched the creatures were so stupid that nothing would make them learn to swim. I have no patience when I think of it.'
'Well, I will give it another chance,' sighed the duck, 'and if it does not come out of its shell in another twenty-four hours, I will just leave it alone and teach the rest of them to swim properly and to find their own food. I really can't be expected to do two things at once.' And with a fluff of her feathers she pushed the egg into the middle of the nest.
All through the next day she sat on, giving up even her morning bath for fear that a blast of cold might strike the big egg. In the evening, when she ventured to peep, she thought she saw a tiny crack in the upper part of the shell. Filled with hope, she went back to her duties, though she could hardly sleep all night for excitement. When she woke with the first steaks of light she felt something stirring under her. Yes, there it was at last; and as she moved, a big awkward bird tumbled head foremost on the ground.
There was no denying it was ugly, even the mother was forced to admit that to herself, though she only said it was 'large' and 'strong.' 'You won't need any teaching when you are once in the water,' she told him, with a glance of surprise at the dull brown which covered his back, and at his long naked neck. And indeed he did not, though he was not half so pretty to look at as the little yellow balls that followed her.
When they returned they found the old neighbour on the bank waiting for them to take them into the duckyard. 'No, it is not a young turkey, certainly,' whispered she in confidence to the mother, 'for though it is lean and skinny, and has no colour to speak of, yet there is something rather distinguished about it, and it holds its head up well.'
'It is very kind of you to say so,' answered the mother, who by this time had some secret doubts of its loveliness. 'Of course, when you see it by itself it is all right, though it is different, somehow, from the others. But one cannot expect all one's children to be beautiful!'
By this time they had reached the centre of the yard, where a very old duck was sitting, who was treated with great respect by all the fowls present.
'You must go up and bow low before her,' whispered the mother to her children, nodding her head in the direction of the old lady, 'and keep your legs well apart, as you see me do. No well-bred duckling turns in its toes. It is a sign of common parents.'
The little ducks tried hard to make their small fat bodies copy the movements of their mother, and the old lady was quite pleased with them; but the rest of the ducks looked on discontentedly, and said to each other:
'Oh, dear me, here are ever so many more! The yard is full already; and did you ever see anything quite as ugly as that great tall creature? He is a disgrace to any brood. I shall go and chase him out!' So saying she put up her feathers, and running to the big duckling bit his neck.
The duckling gave a loud quack; it was the first time he had felt any pain, and at the sound his mother turned quickly.
'Leave him alone,' she said fiercely, 'or I will send for his father. He was not troubling you.'
'No; but he is so ugly and awkward no one can put up with him,' answered the stranger. And though the duckling did not understand the meaning of the words, he felt he was being blamed, and became more uncomfortable still when the old Spanish duck who ruled the fowlyard struck in:
'It certainly is a great pity he is so different from these beautiful darlings. If he could only be hatched over again!'
The poor little fellow drooped his head, and did not know where to look, but was comforted when his mother answered:
'He may not be quite as handsome as the others, but he swims better, and is very strong; I am sure he will make his way in the world as well as anybody.'
'Well, you must feel quite at home here,' said the old duck waddling off. And so they did, all except the duckling, who was snapped at by everyone when they thought his mother was not looking. Even the turkey-cock, who was so big, never passed him without mocking words, and his brothers and sisters, who would not have noticed any difference unless it had been put into their heads, soon became as rude and unkind as the rest.
At last he could bear it no longer, and one day he fancied he saw signs of his mother turning against him too; so that night, when the ducks and hens were still asleep, he stole away through an open door, and under cover of the burdock leaves scrambled on by the bank of the canal, till he reached a wide grassy moor, full of soft marshy places where the reeds grew. Here he lay down, but he was too tired and too frightened to fall asleep, and with the earliest peep of the sun the reeds began to rustle, and he saw that he had blundered into a colony of wild ducks. But as he could not run away again he stood up and bowed politely.
'You are ugly,' said the wild ducks, when they had looked him well over; 'but, however, it is no business of ours, unless you wish to marry one of our daughters, and that we should not allow.' And the duckling answered that he had no idea of marrying anybody, and wanted nothing but to be left alone after his long journey.
So for two whole days he lay quietly among the reeds, eating such food as he could find, and drinking the water of the moorland pool, till he felt himself quite strong again. He wished he might stay were he was for ever, he was so comfortable and happy, away from everyone, with nobody to bite him and tell him how ugly he was.
He was thinking these thoughts, when two young ganders caught sight of him as they were having their evening splash among the reeds, looking for their supper.
'We are getting tired of this moor,' they said, 'and to-morrow we think of trying another, where the lakes are larger and the feeding better. Will you come with us?'
'Is it nicer than this?' asked the duckling doubtfully. And the words were hardly out of his mouth, when 'Pif! pah!' and the two new- comers were stretched dead beside him.
At the sound of the gun the wild ducks in the rushes flew into the air, and for a few minutes the firing continued.
Luckily for himself the duckling could not fly, and he floundered along through the water till he could hide himself amidst some tall ferns which grew in a hollow. But before he got there he met a huge creature on four legs, which he afterwards knew to be a dog, who stood and gazed at him with a long red tongue hanging out of his mouth. The duckling grew cold with terror, and tried to hide his head beneath his little wings; but the dog snuffed at him and passed on, and he was able to reach his place of shelter.
'I am too ugly even for a dog to eat,' said he to himself. 'Well, that is a great mercy.' And he curled himself up in the soft grass till the shots died away in the distance.
When all had been quiet for a long time, and there were only stars to see him, he crept out and looked about him.
He would never go near a pool again, never, thought he; and seeing that the moor stretched far away in the opposite direction from which he had come, he marched bravely on till he got to a small cottage, which seemed too tumbledown for the stones to hold together many hours longer. Even the door only hung upon one hinge, and as the only light in the room sprang from a tiny fire, the duckling edged himself cautiously in, and lay down under a chair close to the broken door, from which he could get out if necessary. But no one seemed to see him or smell him; so he spend the rest of the night in peace.
Now in the cottage dwelt an old woman, her cat, and a hen; and it was really they, and not she, who were masters of the house. The old woman, who passed all her days in spinning yarn, which she sold at the nearest town, loved both the cat and the hen as her own children, and never contradicted them in any way; so it was their grace, and not hers, that the duckling would have to gain.
It was only next morning, when it grew light, that they noticed their visitor, who stood trembling before them, with his eye on the door ready to escape at any moment. They did not, however, appear very fierce, and the duckling became less afraid as they approached him.
'Can you lay eggs?' asked the hen. And the duckling answered meekly:
'No; I don't know how.' Upon which the hen turned her back, and the cat came forward.
'Can you ruffle your fur when you are angry, or purr when you are pleased?' said she. And again the duckling had to admit that he could do nothing but swim, which did not seem of much use to anybody.
So the cat and the hen went straight off to the old woman, who was still in bed.
'Such a useless creature has taken refuge here,' they said. 'It calls itself a duckling; but it can neither lay eggs nor purr! What had we better do with it?'
'Keep it, to be sure!' replied the old woman briskly. 'It is all nonsense about it not laying eggs. Anyway, we will let it stay here for a bit, and see what happens.'
So the duckling remained for three weeks, and shared the food of the cat and the hen; but nothing in the way of eggs happened at all. Then the sun came out, and the air grew soft, and the duckling grew tired of being in a hut, and wanted with all his might to have a swim. And one morning he got so restless that even his friends noticed it.
'What is the matter?' asked the hen; and the duckling told her.
'I am so longing for the water again. You can't think how delicious it is to put your head under the water and dive straight to the bottom.'
'I don't think I should enjoy it,' replied the hen doubtfully. 'And I don't think the cat would like it either.' And the cat, when asked, agreed there was nothing she would hate so much.
'I can't stay here any longer, I Must get to the water,' repeated the duck. And the cat and the hen, who felt hurt and offended, answered shortly:
'Very well then, go.'
The duckling would have liked to say good- bye, and thank them for their kindness, as he was polite by nature; but they had both turned their backs on him, so he went out of the rickety door feeling rather sad. But, in spite of himself, he could not help a thrill of joy when he was out in the air and water once more, and cared little for the rude glances of the creatures he met. For a while he was quite happy and content; but soon the winter came on, and snow began to fall, and everything to grow very wet and uncomfortable. And the duckling soon found that it is one thing to enjoy being in the water, and quite another to like being damp on land.
The sun was setting one day, like a great scarlet globe, and the river, to the duckling's vast bewilderment, was getting hard and slippery, when he heard a sound of whirring wings, and high up in the air a flock of swans were flying. They were as white as snow which had fallen during the night, and their long necks with yellow bills were stretched southwards, for they were going--they did not quite know whither--but to a land where the sun shone all day. Oh, if he only could have gone with them! But that was not possible, of course; and besides, what sort of companion could an ugly thing like him be to those beautiful beings? So he walked sadly down to a sheltered pool and dived to the very bottom, and tried to think it was the greatest happiness he could dream of. But, all the same, he knew it wasn't!
And every morning it grew colder and colder, and the duckling had hard work to keep himself warm. Indeed, it would be truer to say that he never was warm at all; and at last, after one bitter night, his legs moved so slowly that the ice crept closer and closer, and when the morning light broke he was caught fast, as in a trap; and soon his senses went from him.
A few hours more and the poor duckling's life had been ended. But, by good fortune, a man was crossing the river on his way to his work, and saw in a moment what had happened. He had on thick wooden shoes, and he went and stamped so hard on the ice that it broke, and then he picked up the duckling and tucked him under his sheepskin coat, where his frozen bones began to thaw a little.
Instead of going on his work, the man turned back and took the bird to his children, who gave him a warm mess to eat and put him in a box by the fire, and when they came back from school he was much more comfortable than he had been since he had left the old woman's cottage. They were kind little children, and wanted to play with him; but, alas! the poor fellow had never played in his life, and thought they wanted to tease him, and flew straight into the milk-pan, and then into the butter-dish, and from that into the meal- barrel, and at last, terrified at the noise and confusion, right out of the door, and hid himself in the snow amongst the bushes at the back of the house.
He never could tell afterwards exactly how he had spent the rest of the winter. He only knew that he was very miserable and that he never had enough to eat. But by-and-by things grew better. The earth became softer, the sun hotter, the birds sang, and the flowers once more appeared in the grass. When he stood up, he felt different, somehow, from what he had done before he fell asleep among the reeds to which he had wandered after he had escaped from the peasant's hut. His body seemed larger, and his wings stronger. Something pink looked at him from the side of a hill. He thought he would fly towards it and see what it was.
Oh, how glorious it felt to be rushing through the air, wheeling first one way and then the other! He had never thought that flying could be like that! The duckling was almost sorry when he drew near the pink cloud and found it was made up of apple blossoms growing beside a cottage whose garden ran down to the banks of the canal. He fluttered slowly to the ground and paused for a few minutes under a thicket of syringas, and while he was gazing about him, there walked slowly past a flock of the same beautiful birds he had seen so many months ago. Fascinated, he watched them one by one step into the canal, and float quietly upon the waters as if they were part of them.
'I will follow them,' said the duckling to himself; 'ugly though I am, I would rather be killed by them than suffer all I have suffered from cold and hunger, and from the ducks and fowls who should have treated me kindly.' And flying quickly down to the water, he swam after them as fast as he could.
It did not take him long to reach them, for they had stopped to rest in a green pool shaded by a tree whose branches swept the water. And directly they saw him coming some of the younger ones swam out to meet him with cries of welcome, which again the duckling hardly understood. He approached them glad, yet trembling, and turning to one of the older birds, who by this time had left the shade of the tree, he said:
'If I am to die, I would rather you should kill me. I don't know why I was ever hatched, for I am too ugly to live.' And as he spoke, he bowed his head and looked down into the water.
Reflected in the still pool he saw many white shapes, with long necks and golden bills, and, without thinking, he looked for the dull grey body and the awkward skinny neck. But no such thing was there. Instead, he beheld beneath him a beautiful white swan!
'The new one is the best of all,' said the children when they came down to feed the swans with biscuit and cake before going to bed. 'His feathers are whiter and his beak more golden than the rest.' And when he heard that, the duckling thought that it was worth while having undergone all the persecution and loneliness that he had passed through, as otherwise he would never have known what it was to be really happy.
written by Hans Christian Andersen
I had to work hard for a recipe to go with this story but I found one!!!
Ugly Duckling Cake
1 box yellow cake mix 1 (17oz) can fruit cocktail with syrup 1 cup coconut 2 eggs
Preheat oven to 350. Blend above ingredients. Beat 2 minutes at medium speed. Pour into a greased 9x13-inch cake pan. Bake for 45 minutes.
Ugly Duckling Frosting 1 cup brown sugar 1/4 cup evaporated milk 1 stick margarine 1 cup coconut
In a saucepan, combine brown sugar, milk and margarine. Cook 5 minutes over medium heat, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and stir in coconut. Pour over cake.
Here's a bonus! A classic Disney Silly Symphony...
Brer Rabbit Nibbles the Butter African-American Tale
There was a time when all the animals just kept on getting more and more familiar with one another, until by and by it wasn't long before Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox and Brer Possum got to sort of bunching their provisions together in the same shanty.
After a while the roof sort of began to leak, and one day Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox and Brer Possum assembled to see if they couldn't kind of patch it up.
They had a big day's work in front of them, and they fetched their dinner with them. They lumped the vittles up in one pile, and the butter that Brer Fox brought, they went and put it in the spring-house to keep it cool, and then they went to work.
It wasn't long before Brer Rabbit's stomach began to sort of growl and pester him. Brer Fox's butter sat heavy on his mind, and his mouth watered every time he remembered it.
Presently he said to himself that he would like to have a nip at the butter. So commenced to figurin' out a plan.
First thing you know, while they were working along, Brer Rabbit raised his head quickly and flung his ears forward, and hollered out, "Here I am! What do you want with me?" and off he went, like something was after him.
After he made sure that nobody was following him, he bounced into the spring-house, and there he stayed until he got a helping of butter. Then he sauntered on back and went to work.
"Where have you been?" said Brer Fox.
"I heard my children calling me," said Brer Rabbit, "and I had to go see what they wanted. My old woman has gone and taken sick," he said.
They worked on until by and by the butter tasted so good that old Brer Rabbit wanted some more. Then he raised up his head, he did, and hollered out, "Alright! Hold on! I'm a-coming!" And off he went.
This time he stayed a good while, and when he got back, Brer Fox asked him where he'd been.
"I've been to see my old woman, and she's sinkin' ," he said.
Directly Brer Rabbit heard them calling him again, and off he went, and this time, he got the butter out so clean that he could see himself in the bottom of the bucket. He scraped it clean and licked it dry, and then he went back to work.
"How's your old woman this time?" said Brer Fox.
"I'm obliged to you, Brer Fox," said Brer Rabbit, "but I'm afraid that she's real bad off now," and that sort of made Brer Fox and Brer Possum feel bad for Brer Rabbit.
By and by, when dinnertime came, they all got out their vittles, but Brer Rabbit kept on looking lonesome, and Brer Fox and Brer Possum, they sort of rustled around to see if they couldn't make Brer Rabbit feel better.
Brer Fox and Brer Possum rustled around, they did, getting out the vittles, and by and by Brer Fox, he said, "Brer Possum, you run down to the spring and fetch the butter, and I'll set the table," he said.
Brer Possum, he loped off after the butter, and directly he came loping back with his ears a-trembling and his tongue a-hanging out.
"Brer Fox!" he hollered out.
"What's the matter now, Brer Possum?" he said.
"You all had better run, folks" said Brer Possum. "The last drop of that butter is gone."
"Where did it go?" said Brer Fox.
"It looks like it dried up," said Brer Possum.
Then Brer Rabbit, he looked sort of solemn, he did, and he up and said, "I suspect that the butter melted in somebody's mouth," he said.
Then they went down to the spring with Brer Possum, and sure enough, the butter was gone. While they were talking about the mystery, Brer rabbit said that he could see tracks all around there, and he pointed out that if they would all go to sleep, he could catch the chap that stole the butter.
They all lay down, and Brer Fox and Brer Possum, they soon dropped off to sleep, but Brer Rabbit, he stayed awake, and when the time came, he got up real quiet like, and smeared Brer Possum's mouth with the butter on his paws.
Then he ran off and nibbled up the best of the dinner that they had left lying out, and then he came back and woke up Brer Fox and showed him the butter on Brer Possum's mouth.
They woke up Brer Possum and told him about it, but of course Brer Possum denied it to the last.
Now Brer Fox, he's kind of a lawyer, and he argued this way: that Brer Possum was the first one at the butter, and the first one to miss it, and more than that, there were the signs on his mouth.
Brer Possum could see that they had him jammed up in a corner, and then he up and said that the way to catch the man that stole the butter was to build a big brush heap and set it on fire, and everyone would try to jump over it, and the one that fell in, that would be the chap that stole the butter.
Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox, they both agreed, they did, and they whirled in and built the brush heap, and they built it high, and they built it wide, and then they touched it off.
When it got to blazing up good, Brer Rabbit he took the first turn. He sort of stepped back, and looked around and giggled, and over he went, just like a bird flying.
Then came Brer Fox. He got back a little further, and spit on his hands, and lit out and made the jump, and he came so close to falling in that his tail caught fire.
(Next time you see a fox, you look right close and see if the end of his tail isn't white. To this day all foxes bear the same mark.)
Well, next came Old Brer Possum. He took a running start, he did, and he came lumbering along, and he lit -- kerblam! -- right in the middle of the fire.
Now ya know that til that day Possums used ta have nice bushy tails but that fire burned the hair right off old Brer Posssum's tail. And from that day to this, possums have hairless tails.
based on story by Joel Chandler Harris in Uncle Remus; His Songs and His Sayings...first published in 1880....retold by LLL,Storysinger
Betty Botter bought some butter, But, she said, the butter's bitter; If I put it in my batter It will make my batter bitter, But a bit of better butter Will make my batter better. So she bought a bit of butter Better than her bitter butter, And she put it in her batter And the batter was not bitter. So 'twas better Betty Botter bought a bit of better butter.
Come, butter, come, Come, butter, come; Peter stands at the gate Waiting for a butter cake. Come, butter, come.
Recipe to make Easy Homemade Butter
You will need whipping cream and a glass jar with a lid.
Place the cream in the jar. Cover with the lid.
Now, Shake, shake shake and shake!
Keep shaking till the cream turns into butter. You may want to have friends help you shake, cause this may take a while!
You can also use a food processer to make butter. It's basically the same process. Just put the cream in the processer and turn it on.
Yield: About half as much butter as the amount of cream you started with.
Butter Cookies Ingredients: 1 cup butter 1 cup sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted or stirred before measuring dash salt 1 teaspoon baking powder
Preparation: Cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add vanilla. Sift together flour, salt, and baking powder. Stir dry ingredients into butter mixture; mixing until well blended. Shape dough into small balls. Place on ungreased cookie sheets. Bake butter cookies at 300° for 20 minutes, or until just lightly browned. Makes 5 to 6 dozen butter cookies.
A Christmas tale from Italian Folklore retold by La
La Befana was an old woman who lived in a small village in Italy. She was known throughout the village for her wonderful baking and the cleanliness of her kitchen. She was often seen sweeping the area in front of her home. And many had heard her say that she was so busy baking and cleaning that she rarely had time to do anything else.
One winter day, while La Befana was sweeping in front of her home, three travelers stopped to ask her for a drink of water. They told La Befana that they were astrologers (they were often called the three wise men) who were following a star to the birth place of the Christ child. She kindly gave them water and then invited them to dinner.
After dinner the astrologers prepared to continue their journey and asked her if she would like to come with them to see the Christ child. La Befana shook her head saying that she could not possibly take the time needed for such a journey. She was secretly itching to get back to her cleaning and cooking. She stood at her door and watched them leave.
La Befana went back to her sweeping. But hours later she began to feel that she had made a mistake. Maybe she should have gone with the 3 astrologers to see the Christ child. La Befana decided to follow them.
She quickly grabbed a basket and filled it with baked goods of all kinds. She then put on her shawl and with her basket and broom hurried off into the night practically running to catch up with the wise men.
La Befana traveled through the night but never caught up with the wise men. It is said that she ran and ran until she and her broom were lifted up into the air!
Ever since that night, La Befana is believed to fly through the night or run over the roofs in Italy on Epiphany eve. She stops at the home of every child, leaving them treats in their stockings if they are good and a lump of coal if they are bad.
She hopes that one of the children she visits will be the christ child.
The name Befana is said to be a mispronunciation of the Italian word epifania which stands for epiphany. La Befana still visits the children of Italy on the eve of January 6, Epiphany. She fills their stockings with candy or a lump of coal. It is also believed that she sweeps the floor before she leaves. Many households leave her a small glass of wine and a small plate of goodies.
Biscotti - twice-baked (biscottare means to bake twice) biscuits Biscotti are a traditional italian sweet that La Befana might have baked.
The following is a very simple biscotti recipe that "cheats" just a little.
Ingredients: 1 box dry cake mix (your choice of flavor) 1 cup all purpose flour 2 large eggs 1 stick melted butter 2 teaspoons vanilla (or your preferred flavor)
Optional: ¾ cup chopped nuts, dried fruit or chocolate pieces
Preheat the oven to 350F degrees. Pour your cake mix and flour into the bowl of a stand mixer. Add the eggs, butter and vanilla. Mix on medium speed for 2 to 3 minutes. Mix in nuts or chocolate if desired.
This dough will be very stiff but will not stick to the bowl when properly mixed. The consistency will be like children’s play dough.
Divide dough into two halves. Roll each half into a log, and place on a lined 11” x 15” x 1” baking pan. Gently press the top of the cookie log into a rectangle, about 3 inches wide. Repeat with the second half of the dough.
Bake for 20 to 25 minutes. Remove cookie pan from the oven and let cool for 10 minutes.
Do not turn the oven off.
Remove cookies from baking pan and cut into 1 inch piece logs. You will be cutting this on the width.
Place cookies on their cut side on the lined baking pan. Place pan back into the oven and bake for 10 minutes. Remove cookies to cooling rack to cool completely. Store cooled cookies in an airtight container.
Biscotti are delicious dipped in hot chocolate or coffee. Bon Appetit!!
Pssssssst!! Here are a few biscotti variations:
yellow cake mix - chopped red and green dried cherries - almond extract.
butter pecan cake mix - sliced pecans - maple extract.
You know Dasher, and Dancer, and
