It all began when my father died, and I had to leave Worcester college to take of my Mother. I had just left Starkfield and was ready to become an engineer, but I knew I had to come home and take care of my Mother. She was sick and needed my assistance because she was all alone. Each day she grew more and more silent, and each day I lived through my misery. My cousin Zeena came to stay with me and helped take care of my mother so I could care for the farm.
All the Rage Cakes is a one person owned company in the little town of Nora Springs, Iowa. The name of the company is from her own name, her name is Amanda Wrage-Stayner. Her maiden name is Wrage which is pronounced as rage so she put that as the name because she has found many people have issues with pronouncing her last name correctly. Amanda grew up cooking desserts with her mom which just lit the fire of wanting to bake. When she was in middle school in Pennsylvania she had a culinary class that she took which taught her how to prepare food for large groups.
My two sisters and nephew rushed in the living room to have breakfast, thrilled to sit, and make another memorable memory of Eid. After we are done with breakfast, we all got ready to leave, and visit grandmother house. Visiting grandmother house is one of our Eid traditions. When I entered my grandmother house I saw all of my cousins and aunties. But, except for one uncle which altogether we were hoping that during the day he would
Samantha said being the only girl in the family, her mom expected her to learn how to sweep the floor, fix her own bed, and wash the dishes after everyone’s is done eating. Samantha mom would get mad at her if she does not know how to clean. Samantha has a little brother that does not do anything at all. Samantha’s little brother did not help her when she is inside the house cleaning. He is outside helping her dad watering the plant, and cleaning the car.
She goes home and looks through a box of things from her mother’s things and realizes that she also had Alzheimer’s. There were drawings for directions to stores, places so she would not get lost., this is what she did when the officer was giving her directions. As he movie progresses, she finally has an episode at a major work function and ends up calling home were her son gets her and she finally tells the family that she has Alzheimer’s Disease. The movie shows the character go through the
“Mei, wake up. Hurry up!” I heard Mom shouting from the kitchen. I jumped out of my bed hastily, washed my face, brushed my teeth and then helped in the kitchen. She carefully set the plates and took off her apron. We both sat at the table.
“Liv, wake up,” I hear my grandfather yell from down the hall where a smell of bacon and pancakes is emerging, making my mouth water. Little does he know, I’m already awake and getting ready to go. I throw on my new dress with purple and pink flowers and brush my teeth quickly. Using my grandmother’s brush, I yank at my snarled hair and tie it up on top of my head. In my rush to get back to the bedroom, I trip over the dog and he lets out a high pitched squeal.
I had just woken from one of my short dream in the happenings of insomnia. My mother had rushed into my dully painted grey bedroom and explained the news, but not the news that shows on the television every morning— this was something different, an event never spoken of. “I have to go pick up my friend Robert. Make sure to feed your brothers and yourself as well, the food is in the kitchen waiting,” said my mother rushing out the door. “Wait, mom!
Careful, as to not wake her mother, Meg began fixing breakfast for her younger sisters. Each got a cup of unsweetened tea and a portion of plain oatmeal. In the midst of their financial hardship, they could no longer buy sugar for the household. Short tempered Jo picked at her oats and sipped at her tea
Standing in my kitchen cooking breakfast as I do every Saturday morning. My son is on my hip as my oldest daughter dances around the kitchen, she has headphones on and is listening to music through her cellphone. My two youngest daughters are doing what they do daily…fight. As I attempt to pour waffle mix into the pan my youngest daughter; trying to escape her sister knocks the waffle pan to the ground. Mixture splatters all over me and the baby while the waffle pan hits the floor.