Banana Bread

True, it has been way too long since I last blogged.  My life is changing (for the better), in both large and small ways, and I just haven’t taken the time to post.  But I’m back, because someone dear to me suggested I should blog some of my recipes, and this one is pretty tasty.

Produce often gets forgotten in our house, left to rot in a hanging basket or the bottom of the fridge.  I noticed  some aging bananas, so I decided to make use of them.  Here’s what I did, as adapted from the “I Hate to Cook Book”:

Banana Bread

6 very ripe bananas
1 stick margarine
1 stick unsalted butter
1 1/2 c. sugar
1 c. whole-wheat flour
1 1/2 c. bread flour
4 eggs, well beaten
1 tsp. orange extract
1 Tbsp. cardamom
3 tsp. baking powder
1 c. chopped walnuts

Preheat oven to 350°F.  Cream butter, margarine and sugar in a large bowl (I used an immersion blender).  Add bananas, mix, and add beaten eggs.  Add orange extract, cardamom, baking powder, and flour, and mix well (don’t over-beat).  Stir in walnuts.  Pour into greased Bundt pan.

Now here’s where it gets tricky — the original recipe called for baking in a loaf pan.  I felt there was too much batter, so I went with the Bundt pan.  It said bake for 35 min., but I forgot to set the timer, so I just kept checking back until the top was brown and the contents weren’t jiggly anymore.   If you come up with a more precise baking time, feel free to leave it in the comments.

Enjoy!

 

Calamari Gone Wrong

Manhattan was ravaged by a catastrophic flood of epic proportions. The city was almost completely submerged, which made it vulnerable to an oceanic invasion: an attack by a giant squid, red and black and bulbous, tentacles nearly as long as the Empire State Building. The few remaining survivors raced from deserted apartment to deserted apartment scavaging for something among putrid ababdoned refrigerators. Then, just as a scientist was starting to explain why we desperately needed more broccoli salad, I woke up.

I think my brain is tired.

 

I Got the Regulation Blues*

Grrr. I’ve been looking forward to this trip for weeks. My friend Cass lives in New Mexico, and this was supposed to be a three-day mother-daughter weekend of margaritas and girl talk in the mountains. I should have arrived in Albuquerque late last night, but two flight reassignments and one pointless $47 cab ride later, I STILL haven’t left New York. Between recession-inspired cancellations of all direct flights from NYC to ABQ and inclement weather in Minneapolis, I’ve been handed enough frustration to withstand a dirty martini and a Disaronno & coffee, and all it cost me was 14 hours of my vacation. Joy. Good thing I didn’t give up coffee or alcohol for Lent, or I’d be, well, let’s keep it G-rated and just say unpleasantly cranky.

Also, I’ve really fallen off the wagon here with blogging. Anyone still reading? Hit me up in the comments.

*title references one of my favourite Jake Armerding songs. Incidentally kinda wishing I’d gotten stuck in Minneapolis on the off chance I could’ve gotten to hang with him & his wife.

 

Plagiarism

I’m going to take a friend’s sarcasm and laziness a step further. Liked his blog, so I’m just posting his link:
http://jalan46.wordpress.com/2009/02/24/blahg/

There. Content. Ta Da.

 

Sniffles of Mass Destruction

I took a sick day today, because my sinus mucosa was operating on hyperdrive, which apparently migrated into my chest cavity, inspiring the kind of sneezing & coughing that, if harnessed as raw energy could probably heat this house for a week. To add to that, any attempt at speaking simply sounded like a sad sound effect for my froggy pajamas, whose wrinkles evidenced the toss-&-turn attempts I’d made at sleep the night before.

Bleh.

So I made soup, ordered “plenty of fluids” from the deli, and watched two movies, which still left me enough time for copious amounts of introspection. And a surprise get-well-soon guest. And now, after a hot shower, clean sheets & pjams, and more good soup in front of Law & Order . . . I can’t seem to fall asleep. Today was everything a sick day is supposed to be, and I’m legitimately sick. So why do I feel guilty?

 

Living History

Fascinating, historic things happening as I write this:  Barack Obama will soon be inaugurated as the United States of America’s 44th (and first African-American, and first black) President.  Thanks to CNN.com Live with facebook, I’m watching the streaming coverage, and seeing all my friends’ facebook status updates.  Plus I’ve opened up another small window in the bottom of my screen so I can blog about it.  The excitement in Washington is palpable — you can see the smiles and the anticipation on people’s faces.  And when I say palpable, I mean it — I can feel it all the way up here in New York! 

President George W. Bush and Vice President Dick Cheney have been announced, and are taking the stage, and a murmur erupts through the crowd.  I’m sure they’re being shushed. [I wish the video feed wouldn't lag, but at least the audio is consistent.] 

And now, here come Joe Biden and Barack Obama.  Barack Obama was elected in November, but I must say even though I felt the surge of electric excitement and watched people dancing in the streets, somehow it hasn’t felt real.  Today, now, watching the inauguration, I have tingles, and tears are welling.

______

During the height of the ceremony, my boss and our VP lost their connection, so they stood in the crook of my little desk, watching with me.  During now-President Obama’s speech, a few silent tears fell — from a sense of wonder on my part, I think.  I’m living through huge moments of history, and oh, I am so proud to be an American today.

 

Blogging on the Plane

Sometimes my iPhone makes me feel soooo cool. (Then I go and do things like use three o’s for emphasis and I realize I’m really not.) I’m on the plane with this little device set to “airplane mode”, blogging with my thumbs. Ooooh, aaaah, technology.

Texas was great (in case you didn’t pick up on that by the reluctance to leave in my last post). Aside from not getting to see Cass or Heather and really missing Decker (may the BEST DASHCHUND EVER rest in peace, *tear*), this was yet another fun and relaxing Texas vacation. As has become a recent trend in my sojurns home, I got a chance to catch up with several friends from my childhood/adolescence – one of whom I haven’t seen in fourteen years!

Speaking of 14 years, I lost my watch. I’ve had the same watch since seventh grade (though from ‘02 to ‘04 I wore a nice 3-alarm Fossil watch, a really nice gift from Tish which is another story altogether). This is a pretty big deal for someone who would most likely leave her head somewhere if it weren’t so well attached to her body. I had to put in one of those little round bowls when I went through security at Love Field, and when, after RACING to make my next connection in Houston, I shook my wrist to look at the time, my heart sank. I immediately knew I’d finally lost it. After I got home, I told Mom about it & she offered to call airport security the next day.

Turns out it was in the bottom of my purse! Score! One less thing to beat myself up over.

(Clearly this blog entry was only STARTED on the plane. Heh.)

Can’t remember where I was going with this. That’s what I get for leaving a draft to sit for a week.

Awkward ending, aaaand go.

. . .

 

Now What?

Here I am again.

It seems like lately each time I come home to Texas, it feels harder to leave. I start daydreaming, picturing what it would be like to live in the Lone Star State again. I don’t know what it is exactly; homesickness? That can’t be it; I don’t really relish the idea of moving back to The Greater Longview Area. Is New York finally starting to wear me down after eight years? Maybe; I think a girl like me can only go at break-neck speed for so long before exhaustion sets in (which, when you get down to it, is part of what happened when I crashed in ‘02). Do I just need a change in my life? Perhaps. Although I love my boss, and am so very thankful to have a job in this economy, I don’t really see myself staying in this line of work as a career for the rest of my life.

Maybe I’m just scared. Scared of being stuck in this job and getting to the point where I can’t leave; but scared, too, of leaving a great employer and a job that has provided well for me over the past three and a half years. Scared of leaving the church I love, where I’m plugged in and needed and have had a great community since 2001; but scared, too, of all the changes that keep happening there. Scared that I’m missing so much in my friends’ and family’s lives, being so far away from most of them; but scared, too, of leaving behind family and friends in New York who have become so very dear to me.

And so I begin to feel a sense of inertia, of not knowing where I’m going, of not knowing what it is God wants me to do or where He wants me to be. So what do you do when you feel stuck, trapped between the home state where you were born and raised, that you couldn’t wait to leave as soon as you turned 18; and the dazzling city that lured you and burned you, where you grew into the woman you are today, and fought to stay and maintain your independence, that now seems so far away from so much that you love? When your blogs start to be full of unanswerable questions and run-on sentences and even fragments?

 

Christmas Pun

Thank you, Anne, for your list of gifts, which  included this little treasure:

I think you already knew I was going to take it to the next level:

Quack! the Herald Angels Si-ing,
Glory to the just-hatched King!
Beaks on earth, and feathers wild,
God and swimmers reconciled . . .

Take it away, punny friends, in the comments . . .

 

Oh YES They Did

Oh, how I loved being in the N’Harmonics. I just found this on YouTube and now reeeeeeeeeally wish I’d been in the group for this song. This one’s for you, J.