Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.
— Oscar Wilde.
This is the first post on my new fluffy blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates.
I start this post, the for people running out their words. For my words to matter on my page on this page. Again, my voice didn’t matter. I feel this page is one way not to go to my husband, mother in law and to find however my voice.
Years ago, I started settling , and I could not even get off the ground.
Why do I do this?
We’ll I am. The fact is I’m Fluffy. Because I have felt unloved and used for the last 20 years.
I feel that no one truly appreciates me. I home school, the children. They said I had to. They also said that they would help but never did.
Since Christmas Badapple has felt very stressful. A lot of things have gone right. A lot of things have gone wrong. I am trying just to do little things. Like on Finch, an app that you just do the little things like wash your face . Haven’t even want to write. But I have enjoyed all the people who write into the world on this app. Thanks for all of you for great writing. Today, I’m just going to leave a picture. Have a great crunchy day, too, all.
Enjoy a Fluffy Holiday and a Story
Getting to spend time with my family over a fluffy holiday.
Getting to spend time with a 1 year old Grandchild. Watching the first snow in their eyes. Finding the simple joy in these experiences. There only once in your life when all first. Interesting to watch the first snowflake , snow angel, and walk snow. Being a part of my grandchild’s first year memories I will always be Treasurer. So now I am going to add a story.
Once upon time
Elara (a tiny frost fairy with wings like spun moonlight) – (possessing the power to coax snowflakes into any shape) was perched on the highest branch of the ancient oak, watching the first snowfall. Below, nestled in a woven cradle of ivy, slept a human baby, its rosy cheeks untouched by the cold. Elara had been tasked by the Winter Queen to ensure the baby’s first snowfall was magical. She wasn’t supposed to interfere directly. she just enhanced the natural wonder, but the baby’s peaceful slumber tugged at her heart. A delicious aroma, however, drifted up from the cottage window—warm, spiced cookies baking. Elara’s tiny stomach rumbled. She’d been so focused on the snow that she’d forgotten her own supper.
The aroma led her to a window where a kindly old woman, Agnes (a baker renowned throughout the valley) – (possessing a secret recipe for cookies that could melt even the grumpiest heart), was carefully removing a tray of gingerbread men from the oven. The scent was intoxicating. Elara, emboldened by the woman’s gentle nature, cautiously floated through the open window pane. Agnes, with her eyesight not what it once was, didn’t notice the tiny fairy hovering near the cooling rack. Elara, instead of stealing a cookie (a surprisingly strong temptation!), used her magic to gently sculpt the falling snow into an intricate design on the windowpane – a whimsical scene of gingerbread men dancing in a flurry of snowflakes.
Agnes, upon noticing the beautiful snow art, gasped. She looked around, her eyes twinkling. “A fairy’s doing,” she whispered, smiling. She selected the smallest, most perfectly baked gingerbread man and carefully placed it outside on the windowsill. The snow instantly formed a tiny, snow-white sled around it, and a gentle breeze carried the gingerbread man toward the baby’s cradle. Elara watched, her frost-kissed cheeks flushed with delight as the baby woke, its tiny hand reaching for the delicious treat. The first snow had not only fallen, but it had become a testament to the unexpected kindness and surprising generosity that blossomed even in the heart of winter.
Hope you enjoy your Holidays till the next time crunchy fluffy day.
Fluffy Family Gathering Time
It is that time of year when different holidays and family are getting together. To Family Gathering Times.
However, not all families get all long. But there are different types of families. There are friends who are family. These extra families bring more joy to our lives. So, in the spirit of Gathering Times. Times for another story.
The Fluffy Birds were a family of colorful, feathered creatures who loved nothing more than spending time together. Every year, they gathered for a holiday celebration filled with laughter, love, and, of course, delicious food. Their holiday home was adorned with twinkling lights and festive decorations, creating the perfect setting for their family gathering. As they all sat around the table, enjoying a scrumptious feast, the Fluffy Birds shared stories and memories from the past year. They laughed until their bellies hurt and sang songs together, their voices harmonizing in perfect unison. After dinner, they played a series of games, each one more outrageous than the last. From a game of “Pin the Tail on the Turkey” to a competitive round of musical chairs, the Fluffy Birds were having the time of their lives. As the night went on, the family joy spread like wildfire. Even the grumpiest of birds couldn’t resist the infectious happiness and joined in on the fun. The holiday gathering was a reminder of the importance of family and the bond that held them all together. As they said their goodbyes and promised to do it all again next year, the Fluffy Birds couldn’t help but feel grateful for this special time spent together. For them, it wasn’t just about the food or the games, but the love and togetherness that made their holiday truly magical.
My wish is for all of you to have joyous Holiday filled tons of magic memories just like the Fluffy Birds.
Here we are again in fluffy land.
Is there a reason for things we do in life?
If so do we just need to find the simple joys?
Can it be as simple as a walk around the block?
Can be a peaceful moment be absorbed in eating a cookie.
Can we just be happy in the simpleness of life.
So, with all that said, let just take a moment eat cookie , crunch apple, and time for another story
Once upon a time, in a small village nestled in the countryside, there lived a little angel named Grace. Grace was known throughout the village for her kindness, compassion, and radiant smile that never seemed to fade.
One sunny afternoon, Grace was wandering through the village square when she spotted a delicious aroma wafting from Mrs. Johnson’s bakery. Curious, she followed the scent and soon found herself standing in front of a window display filled with freshly baked cookies.
Unable to resist, Grace entered the bakery and approached the counter where Mrs. Johnson greeted her with a warm smile. “Hello, little angel,” she said, holding out a platter of cookies. “Would you like to try one of my special chocolate chip cookies? “
Grace’s eyes lit up with delight as she nodded eagerly. Mrs. Johnson handed her a cookie, which was still warm from the oven, and watched as the little angel took a bite.
As soon as the cookie touched Grace’s lips, a wave of happiness washed over her. The chocolate chips melted in her mouth, sending a burst of sweetness throughout her entire being. She closed her eyes and savored every moment, feeling grateful for the simple joy of a delicious cookie.
After finishing her cookie, Grace thanked Mrs. Johnson with a bright smile and skipped out of the bakery, feeling content and full of joy. The villagers could swear they saw a faint glow surrounding her, proof of the happiness that came from indulging in a simple pleasure.
From that day on, Grace became known as the little angel who found happiness in a cookie, reminding everyone in the village that sometimes, the smallest things in life could bring the greatest joy. And whenever she walked through the village square, the scent of freshly baked cookies always seemed to follow her, a sweet reminder of the day she discovered the magic of a simple chocolate chip cookie.
Hope you enjoyed my simple story.. Remember to take time to smell and eat the cookies and fine simple moments.
Good day out in crunchy Fluffy badapple land. Sometimes, I wish like the meme above that you could send real hugs. Unfortunately, I do not know who made such a great meme. Sometimes, I wish you could go back in time. But unfortunately, that never happened. So is there a story to day.
Yes, let begin once upon a story
Hugs were not just physical gestures. They were portals to the past. With a tight embrace, one could travel back in time to relive their most cherished memories. It was a secret known only to a select few, kept hidden to avoid disturbing the natural order of time. But one day, a group of mischievous children stumbled upon this hidden power. They began hugging everything and everyone in sight, sending them back to different eras. Dinosaurs roamed the streets, knights battled in the park, and cavemen cooked dinner in modern kitchens. The chaos was quickly contained, but the memory of hugs going back in time would forever be etched in the minds of those who experienced it. From then on, hugs were given with caution, as one never knew where they might end up.
With that said, hugs and have a crunchy day.
Crunchy Fluffy Days to all. We said to use our voices every day. So today, we are telling another short story. So agian once upon a time as all good stories start.
It was a cold and snowy Christmas Eve, and Cookie, Fluffy mischievous elf, was busy in the North Pole kitchen, making her famous Christmas cookies. As she was sprinkling red and green sugar on her angel shaped cookies, she heard a loud thud outside. Curiosity getting the best of her, she opened the door to find a large basket filled with golden apples and a note that read “For the merriment of the elves.” Cookie’s eyes lit up with excitement as she knew these were no ordinary apples. She quickly gathered the other elves, and they all took a bite of the magical apples, turning them into flying Christmas angels. Together, they soared through the sky, spreading joy and merriment to all the children around the world. And that’s how the Christmas Angel Apples brought a touch of magic to the holiday season.
Remember, have a crunchy and joyous day🍎🍪🍎
Merry Fluffy Days
It’s Christmas time. What we call the holiday seasons . You’re deciding what this blog is supposed to be about, and we’re not sure. Is it about the art? Is it about storytelling? Perhaps we should make it about a lot of different things, but we’re not sure. Have you ever find it in your life? That you’re writing to the world, but no one’s listening if you’re standing on a precipice, and the world is filled of different things. It’s like the holiday seasons. What’d you get who to buy for are they fluffy? Are they not fluffy? Will they understand how you feel? No one ever knows Hey, right to the world and the world does not respond. I’m not sure what this blog is about. They’re not sure how the blog went. But we need to find a purpose for the blog. There’s this lady. She like blog all about Julia Child’s meals. Who are not gonna do that this here? Haps, this blog is about creating perhaps this blog is about being fluffy. Today we had a very bad experience with sugar. We must get rid of it. Perhaps you will be able to help us so. I wrote something in our blog.Today eh power coffee. Power to the coffee, more power to the coffee a help this blog.Now, in your fluffy, you’re not fluffy world. Made you feel a little bit better today. Going to put another picture in this blog, it’s a blog it keeps saying blog. So let tell a story every day for a year.
So let being with a short story bellow. Once upon a time, all good fluffy stories start. There to sister.
You know, I’ve never quite figured out why we keep doing this,” Tab sighed as he draped a string of lights over the brittle tree branches.
Above the twinkling Christmas lights, a small, plush elf perched at the top of the tree, her wings slightly asked. She had been there for years, a silent guardian of the holiday season. Tab’s sister, Tam, had picked her out from a garage sale when they were kids. Despite her worn fabric and the glitter that had long since lost its sparkle, she remained a treasured part of their annual tradition. Tab had always been the more sentimental one, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the Elf that she had dubbed “Candy” due to her sugary pink complexion.
As Tam stepped back to admire her handiwork, Rachel bustled into the room, her arms laden with a box of decorations. She caught her breath at the sight of Candy, her eyes misting over with nostalgia. “Oh, Tab, you put her up already?” she asked, setting the box down carefully on the floor.
She nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. Tab had always been the one to place Candy atop the tree, but with her living overseas for the past few years, it had fallen to the Elf to carry on the tradition. “Couldn’t do it without her, right?”
The room smelled faintly of pine needles and the cinnamon candles Tam had insisted on lighting, despite Tab’s protests about the fire hazard. Tam laughed and began unpacking the box, revealing a chaotic assortment of ornaments – a glass bird with a chip in its wing, a chocolate Santa that had survived countless hungry Christmas Eves, and a handful of paper stars they had made in elementary school. Each one held a memory, a fragment of their shared past that seemed to shine brighter with every passing year.
Memories make life, fluffy, and stories make life fluffier . I hope if you find this that your day is full of fluffy memories and that tomorrow will be bright 🌞 see you on the crunchy fluffy side of life.🌲🍎
Hello I am OneBadApple 🍏🍎🍏
So I’ve been trying to talk about my fluffy problem. I was not truly fluffy till I left home in middle high school and college. I weigh 135-150. I exercised 3 hours a day and I had a voice. I had friends who did not say well that not how I see it, and make me feel like I need to believe the way they do. Then I got married for the last twenty-five. My mother in law and husband say it is not right unless you get from so and so. I have fact checked that you’re just talking.
I use too draw pictures, I did photography was even doing head shots and event getting paid but it was only hobby. Then felt I was not good enough. Even went Florence Bienialle and start to display in New York City, But was good enough so I stop drawing, and taking pictures.
Through it all aboutfood. My friend if I was sad I would eat all the cookies. I would eat all the ice cream. Over the last twenty five year I have learned that my voice doesn’t matter. Even yesterday I was in argument with him and the only way out was to yes and not have my voice. Then my stomach hurt but I ate a pack cracker anyway.
I guess I want to find a way to matter and not eat. Maybe even fine a voice or more cookies.
