Meandering Mango

If you're looking to feed your intellect here...you just might starve. If you're here because you want to hear about my wacky life...well, you've come to the right place.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Deck the Halls with Random Factoids

Because I have been slacking lately on my blogging duties, I'm using this Holiday "Get-to-know-you" List to get back in the saddle. You can check-out responses from fellow bloggers Troy (Growing Sense) and Jennie (Trim and Fashionable) by clicking to the right.

1. Egg nog or hot chocolate? -- Definitely hot chocolate...and when I'm feeling really crazy, I take a spoon, load it up with marshmallow cream, and dunk it right in. Better than regular marshmallows, in my opinion, which is saying a lot, because I LOVE marshmallows!

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? -- Oh, Santa is a wrapping machine! I love to wrap presents, so my mom would tape the boxes shut and let me help with the gift wrapping. Even the oddly shaped packages get wrapped in something. I don't know that we've ever had unwrapped gifts under the tree.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? --I choose white for my tree/decorations at home; growing up, our family tree always had colored lights.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?--No, but my grandma always hung mistletoe in the archway between her living and dining rooms. It had little windchime-type thing that hung down, and the kids would always try to jump up to ring it.

5. When do you put your decorations up?--My goal is to get them up by the end of the weekend just after Thanksgiving. I do a pretty good job most of the time.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish?--I love, love, love my mom's greenbean casserole and her deviled eggs. My sisters and I fight over them! Another favorite was always my grandmother's chicken and noodles. They always looked so perfectly yellow and yummy...I'll never forget the look on my sister's face when she found out that my grandma put yellow food coloring in them!

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child?--Going to my Grandma and Grandpa's house for Christmas Eve.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?--What truth?

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?--When I was little, we spent Christmas Eve evening at my grandparents' house. We would exchange and open gifts from our extended family that night. Everything else was "Do Not Open 'til December 25th!" In fact, it wasn't until about two or three years ago that my mom stopped waiting until after we went to sleep to put the gifts under the tree. Now that Marc and I are married, we usually spend Christmas Eve day/evening with his family and do our gift exchanging then. Late on Christmas Eve night, we drive up to my parents house to stay over for Christmas morning. Before bed, each of us "kids" [although we are adults now] gets to open one box, which contains our matching Christmas pajamas...that's right, we match, and we like it!

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?--My picky side comes out when the tree goes up, so I'm pretty particular about how the ornaments go on. Usually, I have a color scheme, but there are a few special pieces that go up whether they match or not...like the two little felt elves that used to go on my Grandma's tree. They look so cute, like they're sitting on the branches watching over the living room while we're out.

11. Snow! Love it or dread it?--The way I see it, snow should fall on Christmas Eve and melt the day after Christmas. So I guess I would say I dread it.

12. Can you ice skate?--Yes, but not very well at all. Marc used to play hockey, so he skates circles around me...literally. I haven't gone for a long time, but I would probably end up in a body cast if I tried.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?--One of my favorite gifts was a huge [about 3 1/2 feet tall], white stuffed bear that I named Bozwell. I circled it in the JC Penney catalog but never thought that I would get it. But then there he was on Christmas morning...thanks Santa!!

14. What’s the most important thing about the holidays for you?--Hanging out with our families.

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert?
--Chocolate fudge with walnuts.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?--Perhaps it's picking on my little sister, Kimmy, about opening the last gift. She always wants to have the honor of opening the last present of the day, so one year we even went so far as to hide one of our own gifts to steal her thunder. I don't feel bad telling you all about it, because I know she thinks it's funny, too! (Right, Kimmy?)

17. What tops your tree?--Right now, nothing. We bought a great tree-topper a few years ago when we had a real Christmas tree. Now that we've switched over to the evil world of artificial trees, the darn thing is too heavy. I know that there's a way that I can rig it up, but I just haven't found it yet. Some of the girls at work used to joke that I could "MacGyver" anything...hmm...I'm thinking maybe a couple of chopsticks and some twisty-ties just might do the trick.

18. Which do you prefer, giving or receiving?
--Now what will that say about me if I tell you I prefer receiving?!? But truthfully, I really do like giving gifts, as well. Actually, my favorite part is taking extra care to wrap the presents in a way that makes them look special. I'm a wrapping fanatic, so I always have to have the perfect paper and the bows just right.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
--O Holy Night...no contest.

20. Candy canes! Yuck or yum?
--I must confess. I'm not really a fan of candy canes (or Brach's Starlight Mints for that matter). Usually, I only make it about an eighth of the way through before I throw it away. Strange...because I do like pepermint flavor.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Twenty-first Floor -- Men's Wear

This post's title comes from the movie Liar Liar with Jim Carey. I'm not sure why I think the movie is so hilarious, but I used to watch it over and over again in college. There's a scene where the elevator dings, the door opens, and Fletcher [Carey's character] says, "Twenty-first Floor--Men's Wear." I guess the funny part is that he is in his office building...not in a department store. It is sometimes amusing to say this on an elevator when the door opens...some people get it, others don't.

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A little situation I encountered in the lobby at work today brought the Liar Liar quote into my head. Not because anything particularly funny happened, but rather just something elevator related. A lady entered the elevator as I was about halfway through the lobby. At first she stared at the floor (you know how it is..."if I don't make eye contact, I don't have to hold the elevator"). Then at the last second, perhaps out of guilt, she pressed the "Door Open" button to wait for me. Or at least I thought that was the plan, until she let up on the button just as I was passing through the doors. The doors came together and nearly smooshed me as I stepped into the lift. I mildly commented something like, "Ooh, that's a little dangerous," hoping that maybe she would get the point that one usually depresses the "Door Open" button until after a person has made it entirely onto the elevator. Instead, she coolly said, "Yeah, most of the time the doors don't disengage so quickly." What?!?...she's done this before? Does this woman make it a habit of nearly incapacitating folks by luring them near to the elevator and then mischievously letting go of the button just in time to smoosh them?

It got me thinking about how there are definitely rules for proper elevator behavior, and I would like to explore some of those here:

Rules for How to Behave on an Elevator:

(1.) My ears are on fire: Refrain from discussing topics that may make others uncomfortable. One of Marc's favorite things to do is start completely bizarre, fictional conversations with me on crowded elevators. After work one day, as we rode up to our level of the parking garage, he blurted out, "Hey, I don't know if you remembered, but I won't be home until about seven tonight." When I asked him why, he informed me that he had his gymnastics lesson that evening and proceeded to talk about how the instructor really wanted him to work on his "limberness exercises." The best example of this comes from our friend Joe. He is about 6' 2" and was standing in the far back corner of an elevator filled with about twenty mall patrons on New Year's Eve, while Marc and I were in the opposite front corner. Suddenly, Joe yelled out, "Hey Marc, did you remember to bring that ointment for your rash?" Marc said, "Oh crap, I left it in the car." I probably turned five shades of red as our fellow elevator travelers snickered.

(2.) Yakkity Yak, I'll call back: Hang up that phone. If you receive a cell phone call on the elevator, politely tell the caller that you are on an elevator and will call them back. We really don't want to hear all about your doctor appointment (see Rule #1) or about how you can't believe that so-and-so did something-or-rather. If you do choose to break this rule, please refrain from acting surprised when your call breaks up or you lose your signal. This rule may be countermanded only in the event that the elevator becomes stuck and you must call for emergency personnel to retrieve you from said car.

(3.) Eliminate unnecessary eliminations: No gas passing. This should go without saying; but from the smell that Marc and I encountered in the elevator at the hospital a few weeks ago, I think some people may need the reminder. Please do not think that you will be tricky and do this just before you exit the elevator. It is just cruel to leave that kind of "surprise" for the next person who gets on, especially since they will be inevitably blamed when someone gets on with them at the next floor. Elevator + toot = rude.

(4.) Hold that door, please! It's amazing how many people won't hold the door when they see someone approaching. Admittedly, I have been guilty of punching the "Door Close" button when I'm in a hurry...yes, I'm embarrassed to divulge that. One of my favorite stories about the "Door Close" button comes from our friend Eric, who lives in Manhattan. He used to work in an office building where there were so many floors that letting extra people on could really make the difference in whether you were late or not. As the elevator filled up, he would intentionally refrain from pressing the "Door Close" button when he got on the elevator and always made it a point to stand right at the keypad so that no one else could press it either. He said that people would get so irate and impatient that they would try to reach around him to press "Close," but he would physically block them out. Eventually, the doors do close on their own, but I guess we've just been programmed to want to go faster, faster, faster!

(5.) Major commitments: Choosing the right floor on the first try. With so many pretty, light-up buttons to choose from, this one can be tough. But think of those around you and punch with certainty. If you do press the wrong floor button and must depress a second button, apologize to anyone else riding in the elevator, but do not do any of the following, (a) comment that it is Monday; (b) inform others that you haven't had your coffee yet; or (c) laugh or chuckle nervously. These reactions may cause resentment among fellow riders that might only be dispelled by providing them with freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

(6.) Clowns in a Volkswagen: Waiting for the next lift. Sardines are nasty, and there's no need to emulate them. If the doors open and it seems as though your cramming yourself into the elevator is going to make things a bit too intimate for everyone, wait for the next elevator. Chances are, it won't take long. And most of the folks in your building probably don't want to know you that well. Just think, you'll also be so much better off in the event that someone on that crowded elevator chooses to violate Rules #3 or #5!

Monday, November 13, 2006

Lazy Jane

I love Shel Silverstein, especially his poem "Lazy Jane." For those of you who don't know how it goes, let me enlighten you:

Lazy
Lazy
Lazy
Lazy
Lazy
Lazy
Jane.
She
wants
a
drink
of
water
so
she
waits
and
waits
and
waits
and
waits
and
waits
for
it
to
rain.
In a nutshell, that was my weekend. It seems like Marc and I have been going 100 miles per hour lately, and this was the first weekend in a long time where we didn't have anything formally planned (except dinner at a friend's house on Sunday...and I wasn't cooking, so that didn't really count). On Friday night, we hit the Thai Cafe for dinner and then headed home to watch Network, the 1976 film featuring Faye Dunaway, William Holden, Peter Finch, and Robert Duvall. Even if you haven't seen it, you know of it...it's the film that includes the famous line, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!" Now that we've "fallen back" with Daylight Savings Time, it seems like it's much later than it really is. When we were driving home from dinner, I told Marc that I felt like it was 10:00 even though it was really seven. By the time the DVD ended at 10:00, it felt like it was midnight (which is, ashamedly, past my bedtime). So we turned in for the night.

On Saturday, we hit the road for a visit to Kokomo to see my family. It was chilly day and kind of gloomy...perfect for sacking out on the couch , which was exactly what we did at my parents' house for the entire day. It was nice, though, to just sit around and catch up since we hadn't been up for a visit since September! (Shame on us...like I said, we have been extra busy.) I baked a pan of brownies to satisfy my chocolate craving. And when dinner time rolled around, I offered to make the sweet potato soup that I love so much. Nevermind that I've made this soup several times...I somehow managed to completely forget the first four or five steps of the recipe, leaving us with 3 1/2 pounds of boiled sweet potatoes and nothing to do with them. My mom said she might freeze them and make a casserole later. I felt so bad! They joked that if I didn't really want to cook, I should have just said something. We ended up ordering pizza, and after about three pieces, I had miraculously forgotten all about the bisque incident.

I brought a bag of dog clothes that Judy's dog, Cooper, willed down to my parents' new puppy, Barnum. He gladly put on a little fashion show for us, displaying how chic he looked in his new sherpa-lined corduroy overcoat. Bailey, my parents' first-born and dearest dog son, was less obliging when it came to trying on the new duds. When we strapped him into the Isaac Mizrahi doggy trenchcoat, he pouted in the middle of the room and refused to pose for pictures. I always love to spend time at my folks' house, and it was a really great visit.

Sunday, we managed to arrive at church just as it was starting. Marc's mom and dad were joining us that day, and they called to see where we were. Marc said he was surprised that they beat us there, but I reminded him [as we stood in our kitchen] that church was starting in approximately two minutes. I've come to realize that living so close to the church can be both good and bad. Bad, because we tend to let ourselves sleep in too late; and good, because it only takes half of a second to get there. After church, we had lunch with Marc's parents and then headed home to watch the Colts almost get spanked by the Buffalo Bills. I think I lasted until the third quarter before I drifted off to nap-land. Later that evening, it was off to the dinner party and the absolutely wonderful Black Bottom Banana Cream Pie that Jack made for dessert. It was quite a way to cap off a weekend.

So I guess that for two people who had nothing planned, Marc and I still ended up with plenty to do!

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Rock the Vote '06

It's rainy...it's yucky...there's a water main break on 73rd & Meridian. Don't let this stop you! Get out there and vote! Not sure where to go? Check out the poll locator on www.indygov.org. You can type in your birthday, as well, to double-check that you're registered to vote at that location. Also, be sure to bring your Indiana or Federal government issued photo I.D. You have to show it, and you're not gettin' in without it.

It's your right and your responsibility, so do it...or else.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Sterno Inferno

Marc and I hosted a dessert and coffee party at our house last night. It was the ultimate result of an idea I had late this past summer, and I was glad that we actually pulled it off. Usually, we say, "Wouldn't it be nice to do [insert any variety of social gatherings]?" but it never comes to fruition. In typcial Marc and Karen fashion, however, we were busting our butts at the last second to get everything in order...literally. Marc was still out buying ice and cups when our friends, Molly & Kendrick, arrived with their unbelievably cute son, Carter.

Thankfully, our friends are gracious! No one really seemed to mind when they walked through the door that I had dish towels wadded up on the countertop and a saucepan soaking off its layers of chocolate in the sink. I know that I'm always harder on myself than I should be about having the house in tip-top shape, but it doesn't seem to stop me from stressing out before our friends arrive...just ask Marc, who spent the better part of his weekend cleaning instead of studying. There is definitely a corner saved in heaven for him after all of that furniture vacuuming; which, by the way, he claimed to be one of his least favorite things to do in life! I have the loveliest husband...

I'm not sure what planted the seed for our shindig. Maybe the fact that I love baking (especially for friends). Or maybe that we love getting folks together and don't do it often enough. But my guess is that it was probably the union of the two. So out went the invitations, in came the friends and neighbors, and we had ourselves a party. It seems that as stressful as planning a get-together can be, there's something so delightful about having your house filled with people laughing, chatting, meeting, and enjoying each other's company. I wish that I would have taken pictures, but I was too darn busy to try to find the camera.

Speaking to the true procrastination Marc and I embrace in our lives, we raced out to Bed Bath & Beyond at about 2:00 (the party started at 6:00) for mini-Sterno gel-flame canisters. Mind you, I've never used one of these contraptions. But I was dying to make Chocolate Coconut Cream fondue, and nothing, not even a tiny metal flaming can of gel-fire was going to stop me. I made the chocolate dip without much ado, sneaking a few tastes and letting Marc lick the spoon afterwards. Then I set aside the liquidy-Mounds-bar-tasting goodness while I worked on the cobbler. When the time came, I carefully poured the chocolate into the fondue pot, relinquished the matches to Marc, and went about ironing out the finer details of the dessert spread. At one point, I noticed that the flame had gone out, so I scurried over to grab another canister. I loaded it up, lit the gel, and nearly died one minute later when Kathy said, "Ooh, it's really bubbling," followed by, "Oh, no it's burnt!" Ahhh! One and a half pounds of Ghirardelli chocolate down the drain...or more truthfully into the garbage. It was a sad night. The fondue wasn't going down without a fight, though, as Barkley (our 75 pound black lab) decided to resurrect the chocolate from the garbage can...a feat that left Marc calling the emergency vet service at about 10pm to make sure Barkley wasn't going to kick the bucket. The technician reassured us that it would take much more cocoa than what he ate to "take down a dog that size."

The "Biggest Hit of the Evening" Award went hands-down to the Turtle Cookies, followed closely by the Blackberry-Peach Cobbler. I also made a Pecan Pumpkin Spice cake that is actually shaped like a pumpkin. The real recipe calls for a stem and leaves made out of marzipan...too bad the marzipan box actually points you to a website for instructions on how to use it. I'm not sure what that is all about [marketing, probably], but there was no way that I was going to find time to get online for the how-to's. So I just stacked some extra cake scraps into the middle of the cake top, and voila! Makeshift pumpkin stem!

Everyone seemed to have a good time, and I'm sure that most of the folks had a major sugar crash just in time for bed. Unfortunately for Janeen and De'Amon, our friend Troy realized a bit too late that it isn't always a good idea to feed extra cookies to a four year old just before bedtime. To be honest, I probably wouldn't have thought about it either, but maybe that's because I've never had to try to get a little one to bed on five pounds of sugar. Maybe next time I'll use Splenda!

Oh-so-Yummy Turtle Cookie Recipe


2 c. flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt (may omit if using salted butter)
1/2 c. unsalted butter, softened (I prefer to use butter flavor Crisco sticks)
3/4 c. sugar
1/2 c. brown sugar
1 egg
1/4 c. half-and-half
1 Tbs. vanilla extract
8 oz. Mini-Rolo Popables (or regular Rolos cut in half)
1 c. chopped pecans
1/2-1 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips

1. Combine flour, soda and salt; set aside.
2. Beat together butter and both sugars, until well blended.
3. Mix in egg, half and half and vanilla.
4. Blend in flour mixture until smooth.
5. Stir in, by hand, rolo candies,pecans and chocolate chips.
6. Drop dough by tablespoon onto parchment lined baking sheets (you must use parchment or the caramel will stick like cement to your cookie sheets).
7. Bake at 350 degrees for 10-13 minutes until edges are golden brown and center is still slightly soft.
8. Cool on wire rack for a few minutes to allow caramel to set. Enjoy!

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Big Oil and The Bird

As if soaring fuel prices aren't enough, now Big Oil has claimed its latest victim...the Pink Flamingo. I half-listened as news stations broke the story last night, not realizing that there was just one factory that pumps out the tacky, plastic Phoenicopterus ruber ruber. Who knew?

What I found most interesting, however, was the reason for the poor flamingo's demise after 49 years of plastic bliss. Not lack of demand (although, yes, in some nitty-gritty, economically speaking way it is somewhat tied to that). Not a general turning-away by the larger public from pink, resin yard birds. But, in fact, Big Oil opened up its gaping hole of a mouth and swallowed up Don Featherstone's prized creation.

Maybe I'm being a little dramatic. Maybe all of the old oil chums weren't involved in some great conspiracy to deliver one final blow to the pink flamingo. But be informed that the top two reasons Mr. Featherstone closed up shop were (1) the rising cost of electricity (hmm...electricity...fuel...oil); and (2) the increasing expense of plastic resin (made from...you guessed it, OIL!).

I guess this exercise in product lifespan makes me contemplate how the smallest things can be influenced by factors about which we might not even think. Honestly, if someone would have asked me what drove the flamingo to its grave, oil probably wouldn't have been my first culprit. Perhaps, I would be more inclined to blame an overall shift in the decorating paradigm of South Florida retirees. When I really think about it, though, it makes sense. So maybe it's a stretch to think that Big Oil is responsible for the ultimate passing on of the pink, plastic bird into ornith-heaven. Or maybe not. Just think...at $6,029 per hour for Georgie to take a spin in Airforce One, our tax dollars could have purchased 402 pairs of plastic flamingos at the going rate. And who knows? That might have been just enough to keep kitschy pink yard ornaments around until their 50th Birthday.