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Cooking with Children – Make your own gingerbread men

Chances are that the first biscuits you will have made at home or school were gingerbread men – and were eaten limb by limb until all that remained was a smiling gingerbread face! This is a great recipe, as they take no time at all to prepare and cook, and are low in sugar.

What you need:

  • 350g plain flour
  • 1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
  • 100g softened butter
  • 2 tsp ground ginger
  • 175g soft light brown sugar
  • 1 egg
  • 4 tbsp golden syrup
  • Currants or icing tubes to decorate

What to do:

  1. Grease a large baking tray and pre heat the oven to 190c /gas mark 5
  2. Pop the flour, bicarbonate of soda and ginger in a mixing bowl and rub in the butter
  3. Add the sugar and syrup and stir in the egg until it makes a firm dough
  4. Roll out your dough to ½ cm and cut out your gingerbread men with a cutter – or freehand if you like!
  5. Place your men on the tray, leaving space between them to spread while cooking
  6. Bake for 15 minutes until golden brown
  7. Leave to cool on a wire rack before decorating with currants or piped icing
  8. Eat!

www.surfexcel.in

 

The Gingerbread Man

A classic folk tale
 

Once upon a time, an old woman and her husband lived alone in a little old house. The couple had no children, and being lonely, the woman decided to make a boy of gingerbread. She carefully mixed the batter, rolled out the dough, and cut out out a very nice gingerbread man. She added sugar icing for his hair, mouth, and clothes, and she used candy chips for buttons and eyes. What a fine looking gingerbread man he was! The old woman put him in the oven to bake. After he was fully done, she slowly opened the oven door. Up jumped the gingerbread man, and he ran out the door saying,

"Run, run, as fast as you can!
You can't catch me!
I'm the Gingerbread Man!"

The old woman and the old man ran after him, but they could not catch him.

And so the Gingerbread Man ran and ran. While he running, he met a cow.

"Moo," said the cow. "You look very fine! Fine enough to eat!" And the cow started to chase to little man.

But the Gingerbread Man ran faster, saying,

"I ran away from an old woman,
I ran away from an old man,
And I can run away from you!
I can!"

And he laughed,

"Run, run, as fast as you can!
You can't catch me!
I'm the Gingerbread Man!"

The cow ran after the Gingerbread Man, but she could not catch him

The Gingerbread Man kept running, and soon he met a horse.

The Gingerbread Man ran and ran, laughing and singing. While he ran, he met a chicken.

The Gingerbread Man was proud that he could run so fast.

"Nobody can catch me," he thought. So he kept on running until he met a fox.

He just had to tell the fox how he ran faster than all the others.

"Mr. Fox," he said,
"As tasty as I appear to be,
I cannot let you catch and eat me.

I ran away from an old woman,
I ran away from an old man,
I ran away from a cow,
I ran away from a horse,
I ran away from a chicken,
And I can run away from you!
I can!"

But Mr. Fox did not seem to care.

"Why would I want to bother you?" asked Mr. Fox. "You don't even look that tasty. No, young man, I don't want to eat you at all."

The Gingerbread Man was so relieved.

"Well, indeed, Mr. Fox," said the Gingerbread Man. "If you don't mind, I think I'll take a little rest here." And the Gingerbread Man stopped running and stood still.

And right when he stood still. Snap! went Mr. Fox's jaws right into the Gingerbread Man until he was gone.

"He was very tasty after all," thought the fox.

"Cackle, cackle," said the chicken, "You look fine enough to peck for dinner. I'm going to eat you, Mr. Gingerbread Man."

But the Gingerbread Man just laughed.

"I ran away from an old woman,
I ran away from an old man,
I ran away from a cow,
I ran away from a horse,
And I can run away from you!
I can!"

And so he ran singing,

"Run, run, as fast as you can!
You can't catch me!
I'm the Gingerbread Man!"

The chicken ran after the Gingerbread Man, but she could not catch him.

"Neigh," said the horse, "You look mighty tasty. I think that I would like to eat you."

"But you can't!" said the Gingerbread Man.

"I ran away from an old woman,
I ran away from an old man,
I ran away from a cow,
And I can run away from you!
I can!"

And so he ran singing,

"Run, run, as fast as you can!
You can't catch me!
I'm the Gingerbread Man!"

The horse ran after the Gingerbread Man, but he could not catch him.

THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

Traditional English Chistmas Carol

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me t
hree French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me f
our calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me f
ive golden rings, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me s
ix geese a-laying, five golden rings four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me s
even swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, five golden rings. four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me e
ight maids a-milking, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, five golden rings. four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me n
ine ladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, five golden rings, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me ten lords a-leaping, nine ladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, five golden rings. four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me e
leven pipers piping, ten lords a-leaping, nine ladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, five golden rings, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me t
welve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a-leaping, nine ladies dancing, eight maids a-milking,seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, five golden rings. four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.

bear.jpg

ABC SONG:                                           

  

WALLACE AND GROMIT 2:      

 

OLD McDONALD HAD A FARM:

THE LION KING SONG:        

 

BILLY JEAN:

MUPPET SHOW - MAHNA MAHNA:   

  

 SESAME STREET - GROVER STARS:   

 

BROWN BEAR, BROWN BEAR, WHAT DO YOU SEE?

BARNEY'S ABC SONG:

Birdhouse Boogaloo

www.zsl.org/zsl-london-zoo/exhibits/blackburn-pavilion/birdhouse-boogaloo,1006,AR.html

Peanuts sample

windyandfrtends.blogspot.com

A.A.MILNE: WINNIE-THE POOH

POEMS

  (Tiddly Pom)

The more it goes
(Tiddly Pom)
The more it goes
(Tiddly Pom)
On snowing.

And nobody knows
(Tiddly Pom)
How cold my toes
(Tiddly Pom)
How cold my toes
(Tiddly Pom)
Are growing.

The more it snows
(Tiddly Pom)
The more it goes
(Tiddly Pom)
The more it goes
(Tiddly Pom)
On snowing.

And nobody knows
(Tiddly Pom)
How gold my toes
(Tiddly Pom)
How cold my toes
(Tiddly Pom)
Are growing.

******
 
It's a very funny thought that, if bears were bees,
They'd build nests at the bottom of trees.
And that being so (if the bees were bears)
We shouldn't have to climb up all these stairs.
 
******
How sweet to be a cloud
Floating in the blue!
Every little cloud
Always sings aloud.

How sweet to be a cloud
Floating in the Blue!
It makes him very proud
To be a little cloud.

 
******

HOPPITY

christopher_robin goes

Hoppity, Hoppity,
Hoppity, Hoppity, Hop
Whenever i tell him
Politely to stop it, he
Say's he can't possibly stop.
If he stopped hopping, he couldn't go anywhere,
Poor little Christopher
Couldn't go anywhere...
That's why he always goes
Hoppity, Hoppity,
Hoppity,
Hoppity,
Hop.
******

 FURRY BEAR

If I were a bear,

And a big bear too,
I shouldn't much care
If it froze or snew;
I shouldn't much mind
If it snowed or friz--
I'd be all fur-lined
With a coat like his!

For i'd have fur boots and a brown fur wrap,
And brown fur knickers and a big fur cap.
I'd have a fur muffle-ruff to cover my jaws.
And brown fur mittens on my big brown paws.
With a big brown furry-down up to my head,
I'd sleep all the winter in a big fur bed.
******

 My Bear

 

Bears have hairs

And furry faces.

Bears use stairs

As hiding places.

 

After breakfast,

Lunch and tea,

I play with my bear

And he plays with me.

 

Bears like streets

and parks and spaces.

Bears like treats

And tickling chases.

 

Bears are best

Because, you see,

I have my bear

And my bear has me.

 

by

Marian Abbey

 

Bare Bear

 

Bare Bear has no hair.

Where? Oh, where

Is Bare Bear's hair?

 

Jenny found the scissors.

Snip! Snip! Snip!

Jenny found the scissors.

Clip! Clip! Clip!

 

"It'll grow again," Jenny said.

But her mother shook her head.

"I'm afraid not. Oh dear, no.

Teddy bears' hair doesn't grow."

 

Bare Bear has no hair.

Where? Oh, where

Is Bare Bear's hair?

 

There! There!

Under the chair.

 

By

John Foster

MO McAUELY
Mr STICKY

 

No one knew how Mr. Sticky got in the fish tank.

"He's very small," Mum said as she peered at the tiny water snail. "Just a black dot."

"He'll grow," said Abby and pulled her pyjama bottoms up again before she got into bed. They were always falling down.

 

In the morning Abby jumped out of bed and switched on the light in her fish tank.

Gerry, the fat orange goldfish, was dozing inside the stone archway. Jaws was already awake, swimming along the front of the tank with his white tail floating and twitching. It took Abby a while to find Mr. Sticky because he was clinging to the glass near the bottom, right next to the gravel.

At school that day she wrote about the mysterious Mr. Sticky who was so small you could mistake him for a piece of gravel. Some of the girls in her class said he seemed an ideal pet for her and kept giggling about it.

That night Abby turned on the light to find Mr. Sticky clinging to the very tiniest, waviest tip of the pond weed. It was near the water filter so he was bobbing about in the air bubbles.

"That looks fun," Abby said. She tried to imagine what it must be like to have to hang on to things all day and decided it was probably very tiring. She fed the fish then lay on her bed and watched them chase each other round and round the archway. When they stopped Gerry began nibbling at the pond weed with his big pouty lips. He sucked Mr. Sticky into his mouth then blew him back out again in a stream of water. The snail floated down to the bottom of the tank among the coloured gravel.

"I think he's grown a bit," Abby told her Mum at breakfast the next day.

< 2 >
"Just as well if he's going to be gobbled up like that," her Mum said, trying to put on her coat and eat toast at the same time.

"But I don't want him to get too big or he won't be cute anymore. Small things are cute aren't they?"

"Yes they are. But big things can be cute too. Now hurry up, I'm going to miss my train."

 At school that day, Abby drew an elephant. She needed two pieces of expensive paper to do both ends but the teacher didn't mind because she was pleased with the drawing and wanted it on the wall. They sellotaped them together, right across the elephant's middle. In the corner of the picture, Abby wrote her full name, Abigail, and drew tiny snails for the dots on the 'i's The teacher said that was very creative.

At the weekend they cleaned out the tank. "There's a lot of algae on the sides," Mum said. "I'm not sure Mr. Sticky's quite up to the job yet."

They scooped the fish out and put them in a bowl while they emptied some of the water. Mr. Sticky stayed out of the way, clinging to the glass while Mum used the special 'vacuum cleaner' to clean the gravel. Abby trimmed the new pieces of pond weed down to size and scrubbed the archway and the filter tube. Mum poured new water into the tank.

"Where's Mr. Sticky?" Abby asked.

"On the side," Mum said. She was busy concentrating on the water. "Don't worry I was careful."

Abby looked on all sides of the tank. There was no sign of the water snail.

"He's probably in the gravel then," her mum said. "Come on let's get this finished. I've got work to do." She plopped the fish back in the clean water where they swam round and round, looking puzzled.

< 3 >
That evening Abby went up to her bedroom to check the tank. The water had settled and looked lovely and clear but there was no sign of Mr. Sticky. She lay on her bed and did some exercises, stretching out her legs and feet and pointing her toes. Stretching was good for your muscles and made you look tall a model had said on the t.v. and she looked enormous. When Abby had finished, she kneeled down to have another look in the tank but there was still no sign of Mr. Sticky. She went downstairs.

Her mum was in the study surrounded by papers. She had her glasses on and her hair was all over the place where she'd been running her hands through it. She looked impatient when she saw Abby in the doorway and even more impatient when she heard the bad news.

"He'll turn up." was all she said. "Now off to bed Abby. I've got masses of work to catch up on."

Abby felt her face go hot and red. It always happened when she was angry or upset.

"You've hoovered him up haven't you," she said. You were in such a rush you hoovered him up."

"I have not. I was very careful. But he is extremely small."

"What's wrong with being small?"

"Nothing at all. But it makes things hard to find."

"Or notice," Abby said and ran from the room.

 The door to the bedroom opened and Mum's face appeared around the crack. Abby tried to ignore her but it was hard when she walked over to the bed and sat next to her. She was holding her glasses in her hand. She waved them at Abby.

"These are my new pair," she said. "Extra powerful, for snail hunting." She smiled at Abby. Abby tried not to smile back.

< 4 >
"And I've got a magnifying glass," Abby suddenly remembered and rushed off to find it.

They sat beside each other on the floor. On their knees they shuffled around the tank, peering into the corners among the big pebbles, at the gravel and the pondweed.

"Ah ha!" Mum suddenly cried.

"What?" Abby moved her magnifying glass to where her mum was pointing.

There, tucked in the curve of the archway, perfectly hidden against the dark stone, sat Mr. Sticky. And right next to him was another water snail, even smaller than him.

"Mrs Sticky!" Abby breathed. "But where did she come from?"

"I'm beginning to suspect the pond weed don't you think?"

They both laughed and climbed into Abby's bed together, cuddling down under the duvet. It was cozy but a bit of a squeeze.

"Budge up," Mum said, giving Abby a push with her bottom.

"I can't, I'm already on the edge."

"My goodness you've grown then. When did that happen? You could have put an elephant in here last time we did this."

Abby put her head on her mum's chest and smiled.

 TheImaginationTree

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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