Piña Colada Pie


    1 packet instant vanilla pudding mix domestic helper
    1 c. sweetened flaked coconut, plus more for topping
    1 premade graham cracker crust
    1 container cool whip
    1 can crushed pineapple, drained

Directions overseas employment agency

    Prepare vanilla pudding according to the package's instructions. Once it

has set, mix with coconut and pour into the premade pie crust.
    In a separate bowl, combine Cool Whip and crushed pineapple. Pour mixture

on top of the pie. Sprinkle with additional flaked coconut . Place in the

fridge for at least 1 hour. Serve chilled.


Mo flowers, red Lve thin, whether you spring marching melody, dancing and dance? Hi every monarch bloom season, belated you, just you come, just as I am, not earlier, not later, one eyebrow surprise, So you are here!

- Inscription

Unconsciously, he walked with light spring action, Lianbuqingyi, quietly sections and coming!

I opened the window, in front of a pack of spring sunshine, although not yet revealed her graceful charm, but the message of spring has sneaked into my heart. That dormant season hay, also revealed a faint green, birds you find ltd perched on the branches, a little wait, the sound crisp tweet, it seems in the wake of the arrival of the pink and leaves as soon as possible. The warm spring wind woke up the earth, but also the warmth of the earth, and look forward to evoke a beautiful heart.

Spring, dressed in bright always want to pick bright colors, planting a pink thoughts into the heart, let TaoGongLiuLu fragrant, blooming of the spring season. Let a winter dormant love, and finally ushered Zither Akimitsu this season, warm and light to bloom in spring branches.

Spring is finally here! Throughout the year, the spring season is the most adorable.

Last night's dream still remains clear, the heart with the  dream move, the dream move with the spring. That is the heart of a song, listen, it was the spring of melody, bits and pieces of fleeting joy , dancing at heart with this note, and dancing; and the dough Mouguang, a little sweet, a little panic, green pure stream, quietly flowing.

A piece of paper Su Jian, a fragrant, through the long period of years, the time of the precipitation in the river, in the kingdom of the text in lightly. There is always a moving, is the soul comes through, this side the other side, the Red ferry, only to encounter your life to be like that person go. Sails had to do, always someone waiting for you, someone looking for you, the intersection of two hearts , is the beauty of life, is the soul of the conversion, is fleeting endless expectations.

Always believed that in life there will always be a man, at first sight, goodbye still, not hate has long been a hate late, always in the deepest Red Lane met. Life on the road, the scenery unlimited, there will always be a place in your heart is irreplaceable views. In this Vying Doo-yeon, colorful blooming all over the spring, to encounter such a beautiful peach love, hearts filled with beautiful, flowing with gentle eyes.

I met the most beautiful, is not on the road, but in the heart, the most beautiful encounter, no sooner or later, is Kate soul reunion. A thousand years, eternal moment, is "Jinfeng Yu Lu a meet, they won numerous world", it is "when I look back, that person is the dim light."

Mo flowers, red Lve thin, whether you spring marching melody, dancing and dance? Hi every monarch bloom season, belated you, just you come, just as I am, not earlier, not later, one eyebrow surprise, So you are here!

Spring green willow, the sun full of longing, Akimitsu enchanting the Zither fleeting season. A touch of warmth smile, insisted on the branches in full bloom with the ultimate blooming, a soulful gazing, if only shown signs of life is bound to be moved.

Spring is poetic, but also shy, turns warm again, and still holds partly concealed, deemed a half-open lotus, very cool shy. That Dishou gentle ah, Review stunning, haunted life of faith, is bliss, my heart Rhapsody everlasting.

Some thoughts, so close, yet so far away, such as falling in the wind shower of petals, subtle fragrance strands, full of incense surplus. He has shown signs of sweet inside, always graceful touch of warmth, as the soul of the encounter, two hearts always evoke sympathy. I do not know, can you read my mind as the lotus? I know, even if you remain silent, I still can read you, hide those feelings, shallow encounter in the depths of time, and deep collection. I read your affectionate tenderness, just like you, I also read the waterfront Dendrobenthamia mood, and as you weave Yilianyoumeng!

Pick up a romantic, will you my story, placed in my heart, mixing the earnest hope, glittering water of the time. Let your mind that Que, blooming into a tree flowers, open full house, that flower is eager heart, though, is soiled with the dew of sadness.

Warm a meet, you are my life the most beautiful encounter. Twist a finger floral, bright page in the book, as you keep quiet horizon, Red-phase study, because one knows, good quiet time, time as fleeting ridden shower of petals, with a faint subtle fragrance flowing in the fingers. Like in this enchanting spring, the surplus a pregnant gentleness, red letterhead small print, as you compose heartfelt tenderness, any faint Acacia, passing your eyes, run my eye. Palm memory, first met fragrance overflowing.

Bring a nice, book a Red nostalgic, past the edge of the doomed, at first sight, bye Allure, Review of sweet, but unfortunately did not hate each other later.

Twist a finger fly, as you keep a heart incense, cherish a beautiful encounter , a kind of aesthetic collection of heart. Red criss-cross paths, you are the most beautiful of my life met similar intoxicating spring, and you ride a flourishing spring feast!

The family had just moved to Rhode Island, and the young woman was feeling a little melancholy on that Sunday in May. After all, it was Mother's Day -- and 800 miles separated her from her parents in Ohio.


She had called her mother that morning to wish her a happy Mother's Day, and her mother had mentioned how colorful the yard was now that spring had arrived elyze. As they talked, the younger woman could almost smell the  on the big bush outside her parents' back door.


Later, when she mentioned to her husband how she missed those lilacs, he popped up from his chair. "I know where we can find you all you want," he said. "Get the kids and c'mon elyze."


So off they went, driving the country roads of northern Rhode Island on the kind of day only mid -- May can produce: sparkling sunshine, unclouded azure skies and vibrant newness of the green growing all around. They went past small villages and burgeoning housing developments, past abandoned apple orchards, back to where trees and brush have devoured old homesteads.


Where they stopped,dense thickets of cedars and ju nipers and birch crowded the roadway on both sides. There wasn't a lilac bush in sight.


"Come with me," the man said. "Over that hill is an old cellar hole,from somebody's farm of years ago, and there are lilacs all round it. The man who owns this land said I could poke around here anytime elyze. I'm sure he won't mind if we pick a few lilacs."  


Before they got halfway up the hill,  down to them, and the kids started running. Soon, the mother began running, too, until she reached the top.


There,far from view of passing motorists and hidden from encroaching civilization, were the towering lilacs bushes, so laden with the huge, cone-shaped flower clusters that they almost bent double. With a smile, the young woman rushed up to the nearest bush and buried her face in the flowers, drinking in the fragrance and the memories it recalled.


While the man examined the cellar hole and tried to explain to the children what the house must have looked like, the woman drifted among the lilacs. Carefully, she chose a sprig here, another one there, and clipped them with her husband's pocket knife. She was in no hurry, relishing each blossom as a rare and delicate treasure.


Finally, though, they returned to their car for the trip home. While the kids chattered and the man drove, the woman sat smiling, surrounded by her flowers, a faraway look in her eyes.


When they were within three miles of home, she suddenly shouted to her husband, "Stop the car. Stop right here!"


The man slammed on the brakes. Before he could ask her why she wanted to stop, the woman was out of the car and hurrying up a nearby grassy slope with the lilacs still in her arms. At the top of the hill was a nursing home and, because it was such a beautiful spring day, the patients were outdoors strolling with relatives or sitting on the porch.


The young woman went to the end of the porch, where an elderly patient was sitting in her wheelchair, alone, head bowed, her back to most of the others. Across the porch railing went the flowers, in to the lap of the old woman. She lifted her head, and smiled. For a few moments, the two women chatted, both aglow with happiness, and then the young woman turned and ran back to her family. As the car pulled away, the woman in the wheelchair waved, and clutched the lilacs.


"Mom," the kids asked, "who was that? Why did you give her our flowers? Is she somebody's mother?" The mother said she didn't know the old woman. But it was Mother's Day,and she seemed so alone,and who wouldn't be cheered by flowers? "Besides," she added,"I have all of you, and I still have my mother, even if she is far away. That woman needed those flowers more than I did."


This satisfied the kids, but not the husband. The next day he purchased half a dozen young lilacs bushes and planted them around their yard, and several times since then he has added more.


I was that man. The young mother was, and is, my wife. Now, every May, our own yard is redolent with lilacs. Every Mother's Day our kids gather purple bouquets. And every year I remember that smile on a lonely old woman's face, and the kindness that put the smile there.