One of my favorite things to make is homemade sushi. I know how to make the rolls and it's really fun to do.
Homemade sweaters are always itchy.
Before we can leave our parents, they stuff our heads like the suitcases which they jam-pack with homemade underwear.
Lately... Americans have begun to understand that trouble does not start somewhere on the other side of town. It seems to originate inside the absolute middle of the homemade cherry pie. In our history, the state has failed to respond to the weak. You could be white, male, Presbyterian and heterosexual besides, but if you get fired or if you get sick tomorrow, you might as well be Black, for all the state will want to hear from you.
Especially in a world that doesn't need homemade anything.That's when we need homemade everything.
I love to cook. In fact, at this exact moment, I am trying something new: I am cooking a whole chicken in my crockpot, which I've never done before. I browned it with garlic powder, salt and pepper, and I put a bunch of celery and onions - which I'll have to hide from the children because they claim to hate onions - and I'm going to make homemade mashed cream potatoes. I always, before I leave for work in the morning, have supper cooking. That way, when I come home and they come home from school, there's all kinds of good smells in the house.
All gods are homemade, and it is we who pull their strings, and so, give them the power to pull ours.
The last sound on the worthless earth will be two human beings trying to launch a homemade spaceship and already quarreling about where they are going next.
I love pasta with the homemade marinara sauce I had as a kid.
The first plane ride was in a homemade glider my buddy and I built. Unfortunately we didn't get more than four feet off the ground, because it crashed.
Sweetened ice tea is one of the things I love about the South, right up there with homemade biscuits and cheese grits.
I really like our studio. It's definitely not in any way slick; it's very homemade, literally. Everyone has their own room to produce and write, and [there's a] big rehearsal space.
I love macaroni and cheese. I could eat it every meal of the day.
...two thirds of all sorrow is homemade and, so far as the universe is concerned, unnecessary.
Most of us have fond memories of food from our childhood. Whether it was our mom's homemade lasagna or a memorable chocolate birthday cake, food has a way of transporting us back to the past.
What hymns are sung. What praises said. For homemade miracles of bread?
All I do is keep on running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence. And this is a pretty wonderful thing. No matter what anybody else says.
I am still convinced that a good, simple, homemade cookie is preferable to all the store-bought cookies one can find.
A bag of apples, a pot of homemade jam, a scribbled note, a bunch of golden flowers, a coloured pebble, a box of seedlings, an empty scent bottle for the children. . . . Who needs diamonds and van-delivered bouquets?
Street performers, homemade crafts, keep your wallet in your front pocket and don't buy any crap!
As soon as one of my records goes on, it makes a vast portion of the public nervous. They get spooked by it. To some people who have ears to hear, it's a delightful, refreshing change. But to most of the public, it's a load of homemade-sounding nonsense.
And while other passions in your life may at some point begin to bank their fires, the shared happiness of good homemade food can last as long as we do.
You have a teenager who desperately wants to separate...If you don't have a career, these New Domesticity types are likely to find themselves standing in the kitchen with all these domestic skills and no outlet for them, no way to earn a living.... [A]t that point your kids are not thanking you for having made the hand-pureed baby food and for giving them homemade cookies. They don't feel you've done them a big favor; they say, "Why didn't she ever grow up and take responsibility for her own life?"
Homemade' sounds much better when not referring to tattoos.
This infantile sense of order tended to infect my life at large. Up at 5:30 a.m., coffee, oatmeal, perhaps sausage (homemade), and fresh eggs giving one of the yolks to Lola. Listening to NPR and grieving more recently over the absence of Bob Edwards who was the sound of morning as surely as birds. Reading a paragraph or two of Emerson or Loren Eiseley to raise the level of my thinking. Going out to feed the cattle if it was during our six months of bad weather.
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