KILLER MARSHMALLOWS!!!!!

Writing about food is a bit of a difficult task for me; there are just so many tasty things I could speak about! After some thought (and a snack) I have settled on one of my many childhood favorites, MARSHMALLOWS! No matter how you liked them: lightly browned, charred to blackened crisp, or even straight out of the bag- marshmallows were (and still are) the best fireside treat! Luckily for us, you don’t have to be off in the woods with a campfire to enjoy these delicious confections. Marshmallows seem to be made or mixed into just about anything now days including the classic rice krispie treat, the old but delicious fluffernutter sandwich, and the colorful Easter peeps.

Since the time of the Egyptians marshmallows have been satisfying humanity’s sweet tooth. Roughly four thousand years ago people began making marshmallows from the root of the marsh mallow (Althaea officinalis) plant. This process was done by boiling the root, then straining and cooling the pulp resulting in sweet and fluffy delicacy reserved for royalty. Over the past few millennia we have come a long way in craft of marshmallow making. Today most marshmallows are made with gelatin (which comes from the processed hooves and hides of horses, pigs, and cattle) rather than the hard to find marsh mallow root. In this process corn syrup, gelatin, gum arabic and flavoring are combined, pushed through tubes, and cut to the desired size. Automated marshmallow making has allowed for only a handful of companies to dominate the industry creating little need for homemade marshmallows.

After a bit of research I have found that these yummy morsels have a much more sinister side to them. Marshmallows have caused at least two deaths in the recent past. Both deaths were caused by suffocation while playing Chubby Bunny. Chubby Bunny is played by placing marshmallows into your mouth until you are no longer able to say “Chubby Bunny.” The marshmallows are then counted and the person with the most wins. This all sound like fun and games until a puffy treat clogs your esophagus. Fortunately my days of playing Chubby Bunny have long past and I am content toasting my next marshmallow over the open fire.

Information found at the following sites:

http://www.enotes.com/how-products-encyclopedia/marshmallow

http://inventors.about.com/od/foodrelatedinventions/a/marshmallows_3.htm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chubby_Bunny

Bullet in the Brain!... OOUCH!

Bullet in the Brain shows us the last few minutes of Anders life in great detail. The author paints Anders as a cynical and almost unreal book critic that somehow feels the urge to rebel against armed robbers. His critical view of others’ speech and life in general is what causes Anders to get a “bullet in the brain.” The author uses the mystery of the brain and death to draw the reader in. By using “brain time” the bullet is slowed to allow author to describe vivid snip-its of Anders life. I like how the author included “what Anders did not remember given what he did remember.” The small forgotten memories show us a different side of Anders. Lighter, more human elements of family, love, and literature remind us of Anders past and just how real he was. What was remembered is a common enough childhood seen of baseball. In this memory Anders is reminded of his passion for words and love of language as he dies. It is fitting that his last memory is of analyzing dialects and speech, something that ultimately gets him killed.

I feel the author’s main intent for the story is to show how being over critical of life can cause trouble. Each of us has our own way of talking, writing, and going about life. I also feel that this may be the author’s way of making fun of editors and critics. A writer’s work is constantly critiqued and changed; this could be Wolff’s way of saying, “Back off, wrote it the way I want it.” This story made me look back over my life searching for small forgotten joys. I hope that my final thoughts will allow me to relive a wonderful time in my life.

Finally 10!!!

Blake Thompson was an average American ten-year-old boy. He lived in a normal town, on a normal street, with his fairly normal mother, stepfather, and baby sister. Blake had just begun the second half of his forth grade year when he turned ten. The big “double digit” birthday celebration was held at the local laser tag park. After an afternoon filled with epic games of capture the flag and king of the mountain the party goers sat down for pie and ice cream. “Yes pie,” Blake explained, “ Cake is too dry and has too much frosting and no fruit so that’s why we aren’t having cake!” Gifts of all kinds were opened and the customary “thank yous” were handed back in return. However, Blake was really only concerned the new set of pogs that his parents had bought and the two packs of Pokemon cards that Cooper, his best friend, gave him. Pogs and Pokemon were Blake’s favorite things to do at recess, well maybe beside foursquare. Soon after the presents were unwrapped the other forth graders’ parents began to pick their children up. When Blake and Cooper were the only kids left Blake’s parents drove them back to their normal neighborhood. The rest of the evening the two boys fished at the lake a few streets from theirs. When dark came the boys returned to their homes to find their parents doing normal adult things. Blake finished his homework that he had left until Sunday night before brushing his teeth for bed. While lying in bed, waiting to fall asleep, Blake smiled to himself, thinking how fun the next ten years would be!