I love kettlecorn! Sweet, salty, simple to pop in your mouth on a warm day at the boardwalk–it’s a wonderful comfort food and a snack that reminds me of summer days.
I went to a Korean store today for the first time in a long time, and saw many types of kettles (you know, Asians can design things into cool, cute, weird, creative things). I then thought about investing in a tea kettle sometime; not much to pay for considering the zen that comes from the millennia-old tradition of Tea.
It’s like when I saw the first HP movie and there was Hagrid in his little cabin cooking tea for harry and ron and hermione and making those god-awful biscuits that were hard as rocks. Rock-cakes, that’s what they called
Mother boiled the kettle at 1am, we were still awake and chatting about family matters and our past, when us kids were young and playing in the paddocks and climbing the willow trees.
kettle. i talked to alex about kettles today. i need an electric one for the dorm. we both love the word. personally, i just love kettles. i love the name, and i love the function. my kettle is a dear old friend, and it feels so odd to be moving on without him to heat up my water.
You’re boiling and you’re about to overload, explode, implode, anything but calm down. I can’t wait for you to grow out of this. You’re like an impossible 2 year old. The kind you babysit and get paid extra for. But no one is paying me to deal with you. I get nothing- not even self gratification- to put up with your immaturity. Grow the eff up and stop calling me black!
She watched the steam rise from the invisible crater with awe. She had never seen anything like it before. The villagers around her gazed at the smoky mass hovering over them with in a vague stupor. Nobody had realized that the mountain had actually been a volcano.
It boiled and hissed on top of the stove, overfilled so it spat and sizzled on the glass top, onto the pot next to it. And then, the song, that piercing whistle that goes through my spine.
I thought about it, but didn’t follow through. It seemed to be the case these days. I wanted to and even planned it out, placing the accouterments out on the table like so.
The tea kettle was smoothly steaming away on the stove as my grandmother was quietly reading her bible and I was trying to endure this scenery. The gas particles were clattering about inside which made a somewhat soothing noise against the hard pounding drops of rain against our windowpane.
It was plain and grey. It was dusty, and filled with droppings from unknown creatures. It had been in that corner for a few years and I just noticed it.
this is the pot calling the kettle black. Of course the pot is also pregnant and hormonal, so of course the pot will fly off the handle… what the fuck is the kettle’s excuse? huh?
The cold black kettle didn’t shiver as I picked it up. It sat there silently, not heating, not breathing, not quivering with steam. It was as though my touch, the heat bubbling underneath had no affect and it burnt my ego with it’s cool surface. I think that was the moment I truly broke. The moment I realized that my life had accumulated to nothing but a kettle that wouldn’t heat. I was nothing.
a kettle is somewhat useless to me. i dont care about it. sure i can see it in common placfes like houses or wherever but i dont know how it’s used so i sort of render it as useless. kettle, it sort of sounds like it should be in a cartoon or something. who would name a thing a kettle? it actually sounds like a blemish that you would have on your skin.
she lay down on the sofa, drawing the blanket tightly around her. but she still shook. her eyes focused on the fireplace, the flames jumping at the grate, the kettle gleaming. she shook her head, as if that would erase the memory of him. the fallen, the one who didnt deserve to die. his photo decorated the mantle, and he smiled down on her, but she could only weep. “only the good die young,” she whispered. RIP
Kettle, reminds me of days spent up at the stable with my mother when I was little. Boiling the water to make tea for her and the other ladies, as well as a hot chocolate for myself. days spent alone with the horses, perfectly content with life.
You set the kettle on the table. And tell me, It’s Over. You pour yourself a cup of tea, and then you leave. Leaving me with hot water, and a broken heart.
whistle for me, darling.
i won’t be alarmed when
hear that enchanting call-
you’ll let me know that
that this day will flow
& the sunrise surely
has a reason for glowing.
you use it to boil water so you can make a drink called tea or coffee, you can use it to boil water for making dinner for example pasta. It only takes a minute to boil the water and it is very usefull
The pot calling the kettle black? Yeah right. The pot’s just snobby because it has ‘more uses’… I’ll have you know the kettle can boil water. And boiled water is important. It was a huge medical discovery which led to many more people surviving illnesses and such.
The pot can cook different foods… So can some pieces of wood and some grass.
Kettles are the overlooked tool of clique writing.
When I got the sandwich, it came with a bag of kettle chips and a pickle. Sure, I could have turned down the chips and maintained my health-food kick, but what fun is that?
Staring bleakly into the dark and cold night, Tom stirred hid meager fillings inside the black and dented kettle. The room was in ruins, as was usual, and this instrument was the nicest thing he owned.
She got her first kitten when she was six years old. Her fingers slid over his glossy fur coat and it felt diving–like warm silk over a living, breathing thing. She saw his eyes–one blue, one green–look up at her. They were filled with a mystery, a longing, and she knew she loved him and he her.
It was cold this evening. She put the tea on and while it boiled, she watched television. The show was on again–the one with the man who tried to guess which home would be robbed next. He was almost always right. At times, she wondered if it was all staged.
The kettle lets out a few puffs of steam. Blowing , whistling a tune I know so well. Gently reminding me that it is time to pour the hot water into my cup and make myself a cup of coffee to start my day. Such a simple event that I enjoy everyday !
so i poured the hot water in . Nvere had any great expectations about tea, but i bought that lapsang souchong ujust in order to get some of its smell around the house. So fat, i wanted the rain to keep tingling on the tin top, but since i moved away from the cabin, co
Sweet smoke rolling from that open fire. Flannel, old time music, banjos & fiddles. Between it all, sits a kettle, holding that elixer of life.
By rain on 08.11.2010
I love kettlecorn! Sweet, salty, simple to pop in your mouth on a warm day at the boardwalk–it’s a wonderful comfort food and a snack that reminds me of summer days.
By Danielle URL on 08.11.2010
I went to a Korean store today for the first time in a long time, and saw many types of kettles (you know, Asians can design things into cool, cute, weird, creative things). I then thought about investing in a tea kettle sometime; not much to pay for considering the zen that comes from the millennia-old tradition of Tea.
By Daniel Oh URL on 08.11.2010
It’s like when I saw the first HP movie and there was Hagrid in his little cabin cooking tea for harry and ron and hermione and making those god-awful biscuits that were hard as rocks. Rock-cakes, that’s what they called
By polo on 08.11.2010
Mother boiled the kettle at 1am, we were still awake and chatting about family matters and our past, when us kids were young and playing in the paddocks and climbing the willow trees.
By caroline on 08.11.2010
container for holding water
By liya on 08.11.2010
kettle. i talked to alex about kettles today. i need an electric one for the dorm. we both love the word. personally, i just love kettles. i love the name, and i love the function. my kettle is a dear old friend, and it feels so odd to be moving on without him to heat up my water.
By starcrosser URL on 08.11.2010
“come home, kettle ‘s on” she said as he was walking by in 7th avenue.
By George on 08.11.2010
You’re boiling and you’re about to overload, explode, implode, anything but calm down. I can’t wait for you to grow out of this. You’re like an impossible 2 year old. The kind you babysit and get paid extra for. But no one is paying me to deal with you. I get nothing- not even self gratification- to put up with your immaturity. Grow the eff up and stop calling me black!
Sincerely,
The Pot.
By Beth URL on 08.11.2010
burn baby burn
By quantum suicide on 08.11.2010
She watched the steam rise from the invisible crater with awe. She had never seen anything like it before. The villagers around her gazed at the smoky mass hovering over them with in a vague stupor. Nobody had realized that the mountain had actually been a volcano.
By miatetangco URL on 08.11.2010
It boiled and hissed on top of the stove, overfilled so it spat and sizzled on the glass top, onto the pot next to it. And then, the song, that piercing whistle that goes through my spine.
By rtperson URL on 08.11.2010
I thought about it, but didn’t follow through. It seemed to be the case these days. I wanted to and even planned it out, placing the accouterments out on the table like so.
By ryan on 08.11.2010
The tea kettle was smoothly steaming away on the stove as my grandmother was quietly reading her bible and I was trying to endure this scenery. The gas particles were clattering about inside which made a somewhat soothing noise against the hard pounding drops of rain against our windowpane.
By Em on 08.11.2010
It was plain and grey. It was dusty, and filled with droppings from unknown creatures. It had been in that corner for a few years and I just noticed it.
By writer on 08.11.2010
this is the pot calling the kettle black. Of course the pot is also pregnant and hormonal, so of course the pot will fly off the handle… what the fuck is the kettle’s excuse? huh?
By jacqui URL on 08.11.2010
The kettle stood firm over the fire, water bubbling inside, steam shooting through its spout like a geyser, arching for a whistle.
By gino on 08.11.2010
yes kettle, its high that we settle this my love. I can take it any longer.
By Noel URL on 08.11.2010
Insults are everywhere.
….
What did you call me?!
By billy on 08.11.2010
The cold black kettle didn’t shiver as I picked it up. It sat there silently, not heating, not breathing, not quivering with steam. It was as though my touch, the heat bubbling underneath had no affect and it burnt my ego with it’s cool surface. I think that was the moment I truly broke. The moment I realized that my life had accumulated to nothing but a kettle that wouldn’t heat. I was nothing.
By Sarah Trevarton URL on 08.11.2010
a kettle is somewhat useless to me. i dont care about it. sure i can see it in common placfes like houses or wherever but i dont know how it’s used so i sort of render it as useless. kettle, it sort of sounds like it should be in a cartoon or something. who would name a thing a kettle? it actually sounds like a blemish that you would have on your skin.
By Patrick Rojas on 08.11.2010
she lay down on the sofa, drawing the blanket tightly around her. but she still shook. her eyes focused on the fireplace, the flames jumping at the grate, the kettle gleaming. she shook her head, as if that would erase the memory of him. the fallen, the one who didnt deserve to die. his photo decorated the mantle, and he smiled down on her, but she could only weep. “only the good die young,” she whispered. RIP
By jane URL on 08.11.2010
My dad always asks for tea. Well he always did. I hated making it for him, but now I miss it terribly.
By Tina on 08.11.2010
If I was a kettle
I would want to be mettle
’cause if I was wood
I’d not do what I should
By Ramona URL on 08.11.2010
The kettle steamed above the stove with a mix of theanine and cannabis.
By shashank on 08.11.2010
Kettle, reminds me of days spent up at the stable with my mother when I was little. Boiling the water to make tea for her and the other ladies, as well as a hot chocolate for myself. days spent alone with the horses, perfectly content with life.
By Taylor URL on 08.11.2010
You set the kettle on the table. And tell me, It’s Over. You pour yourself a cup of tea, and then you leave. Leaving me with hot water, and a broken heart.
By Jae on 08.11.2010
whistle for me, darling.
i won’t be alarmed when
hear that enchanting call-
you’ll let me know that
that this day will flow
& the sunrise surely
has a reason for glowing.
By doc. URL on 08.11.2010
you use it to boil water so you can make a drink called tea or coffee, you can use it to boil water for making dinner for example pasta. It only takes a minute to boil the water and it is very usefull
By F Moran on 08.11.2010
tribes combined over one glorious, glowing fire.
By rAH!n URL on 08.11.2010
The pot calling the kettle black? Yeah right. The pot’s just snobby because it has ‘more uses’… I’ll have you know the kettle can boil water. And boiled water is important. It was a huge medical discovery which led to many more people surviving illnesses and such.
The pot can cook different foods… So can some pieces of wood and some grass.
Kettles are the overlooked tool of clique writing.
By Seaz on 08.11.2010
A place for dogs to stay when their owners are away.
By Sabrina on 08.11.2010
When I got the sandwich, it came with a bag of kettle chips and a pickle. Sure, I could have turned down the chips and maintained my health-food kick, but what fun is that?
By h.a.r. URL on 08.11.2010
you are the smoke rings
gently waft as i blow
here for a moment
then you’re gone
still for a moment
then move on
into other forms
and other phases
dissolved from sight
tracelessly faded
By Chinemenma URL on 08.11.2010
Staring bleakly into the dark and cold night, Tom stirred hid meager fillings inside the black and dented kettle. The room was in ruins, as was usual, and this instrument was the nicest thing he owned.
By Kevin H URL on 08.11.2010
She got her first kitten when she was six years old. Her fingers slid over his glossy fur coat and it felt diving–like warm silk over a living, breathing thing. She saw his eyes–one blue, one green–look up at her. They were filled with a mystery, a longing, and she knew she loved him and he her.
By miatetangco URL on 08.11.2010
It was cold this evening. She put the tea on and while it boiled, she watched television. The show was on again–the one with the man who tried to guess which home would be robbed next. He was almost always right. At times, she wondered if it was all staged.
By miatetangco URL on 08.11.2010
Pop goes the whistle? Nope. That screech I hear is just the water for my morning coffee. Noisy and annoying, I know. But comforting.
By anabeth URL on 08.11.2010
The kettle lets out a few puffs of steam. Blowing , whistling a tune I know so well. Gently reminding me that it is time to pour the hot water into my cup and make myself a cup of coffee to start my day. Such a simple event that I enjoy everyday !
By Amore URL on 08.11.2010
so i poured the hot water in . Nvere had any great expectations about tea, but i bought that lapsang souchong ujust in order to get some of its smell around the house. So fat, i wanted the rain to keep tingling on the tin top, but since i moved away from the cabin, co
By Daniel URL on 08.11.2010