We had a random drawing and drew out Crystal A. Murray.We hope you'll stop back by in the months ahead and try again.
Congratulations, Crystal A. Murray, winner of the November Prompt Contest.
"Crystal writes articles, stories, poetry, song lyrics, & web content. She loves variety in her writing as it keeps writing fun for her. As president of her local Christian writer's group, Crystal loves to find prompts and exercises to encourage other writers to have fun in their writing as well. Crystal's still under-development writing page on Facebook can be found at http://www.facebook.com/TheLordismyEditor"
Here is her winning recipe!
Easy Cream-Cheesy Pie...
Easy-to-make desserts always get my vote, and these are super yummy and have lots of variations.
INGREDIENTS:
Graham Cracker Pie Crust
1 large box of flavored gelatin
1 8oz tub of whipped topping
1 and 1/2 block of cream cheese (can use fat free version as well)
DIRECTIONS:
Soften the cream cheese to make things easier to mix. Mix in the whipped topping (I like Cool Whip Extra Creamy, but it also works well with some of the diet versions of topping). Add about half of the flavored gelatin powder (more if you want a stronger flavor, less if you want more of the cream cheese flavor to come through) and mix until the gelatin is dissolved into the cream cheese & topping mix.
Note: If you really don't want any granules of sugar, you can dissolve the gelatin in a glass cup in the microwave with a little water. It makes kind of a thick syrup.
Note2: Use your favorite flavor for the gelatin. I have found lemon and cherry to make the best-tasting cheese pies. I have also had good results making this with sugar-free gelatin, but I've been avoiding the aspartame products lately, so I'll probably stick to the sweet until they come out with a stevia-flavored one.
Pour all ingredients into the pie crust and chill until ready to serve.
Optional: sprinkle some of the remaining gelatin powder over the top for a sort of sparkly look. You can even use stencils to make a greeting on top if you like.
ENJOY!
At the front of the bus, the driver was staring at her. Sarah imagined the driver was a porpoise. Then she realized he merely looked like one.
“Impatience isn’t virtue,” she patronized.
Stepping down from the bus, she squandered her footing and fell headlong onto the curb.
Cheek on the street, she saw many feet passing. The street was splendidly busy with buckled brown boots, white slippers, children’s shoes, a spattering of knitwear, and something horrible – a pair of rather gnarly, grotesque feet. They were overly hairy, and the toenails had want for care. As she hadn’t been used to seeing such literal down-at-heel standards on feet, she imagined the worst of the rest of them.
A small, silver-haired woman squealed in panic, “See here, no time for lying about.”
An arthritic-looking elderly man shouted, “But don’t be bashful. Not a moment to spare. Not one.”
Aghast at all this, and fairly frightened at being half under the bus, she fainted.
---
The world about her was hazy and dark. She remarked out loud, somewhat dreamily, what a dreadful place this was: it smelled harshly, was too warm, hadn’t enough light, needed more flowers, ought to haven’t been so rummaged, and the sort.
She’d been face down on a dirty couch, and, looking about, saw those bizarre feet again.
“Lordy, but I’ve spent all my time in Wellington looking at feet such as these,” she muttered.
Attached to the feet were two short legs. From there sprouted a concise body, wrapped in a knit sweater and shrouded in a shawl. There, two appendages – arms, if it were true – flapped madly. “Damned gadflies.”
Sarah squelched out, “Come away from the drapery foul creature, stunted troll, fiendish spook!”
“Ye talkin now, what?” it said. “Save yer pluck for yer wee pilgrimage.” And this thing laughed haughtily.
Another voice bellowed from an adjoining room. “Perhaps it wants to know about the door.”
“Ye Kraken,” it replied. “Of course she wants to know about the door.” Then, turning to her, “Sarah, is it? Hardly a suitable name.”
It now seemed this monster was simply the elderly woman from the street.
“How do you know my name? And what door?”
“The door, what? I’ll tell ye. It’s there –“ she pointed hastily. “Ye must go. Can’t do to be late.”
“Late, for what?” Sarah asked.
Another monster – the old man – raced to Sarah’s side and helped her get up.
They shoved Sarah roughly beyond the couch and into a parlor.
She was appalled at their discourtesy. “How do you mean?”
In the shadow on the wall the old man reached his withered hand and took hold of something. Twisting, he wrenched it back.
A warm, green light spilled into the parlor.
Before she had a chance to share her offense, she was pushed into it, screaming.
“Narnia awaits,” said the old man.