The more you know: Easter edition

After a stressful holiday weekend of watching me lose my mind, Sadie recharges.

I learned a great deal over the Easter weekend. I know I am a strong, capable and intelligent woman. But I learned, when it comes to my family, I am a weak, scatter brained and hapless girl. My role in the family was decided years ago and like most families, we really are too lazy to recast. And that is just how it is. The realization of this is rather freeing. And because of that it is okay. Because, in the grand scheme of things, what other people, even family, might think of me is not important.  What IS important is that I continue to be the belly rubbing, chicken providing pushover that Sadie thinks I am.  She really is so very wise.

Happy Easter

I have often thought about where our traditions come from. Where do they start and how do they evolve? But do we really need to know everything? I don’t think so. I mean, a little mystery in life is good. I once asked my Mom where she thought the Easter Bunny came from.  It was more a casual adult conversation over tea and cigarettes and not a child looking for answers. She thought a moment and said my brother Billy’s first grade teacher said it was because the rabbit was the first creature to see Jesus after he rose. Works for me.

Though, why does the rabbit carry eggs? 

Happy Easter!

Peeps, a pop of psychology and chocolate.

Oh Peeps, how I have missed you. I know you are available all year-long now but I have to say, for me, you are and always will be Easter. And while I know I am a big proponent of adding chocolate to, well, just about everything, I think with you I shall show some restraint. You see, I saw that you now come covered in dark and milk chocolate and the first thing I did, aside from a dance in the middle of the seasonal aisle of Safeway, was to purchase you, take you home with me and make you mine. Oh the idea of you covered in chocolate was lovely. But the execution, so wrong.

Oh Peep, what happened?

It appears that in their zeal to elevate your tasty goodness by coating you in chocolate,  the peeps at Peeps failed to realize they were completely covering up your signature feature. What might that be? Why,  I refer to your crusty and sugary coating. The feel and taste of your crusty outer sugar shell is what elevates you from a mere marshmallow to the holiday treat we dream about during Lent. And somehow, completely covering you in chocolate might actually be too much of a good thing. Who knew? Plus the lack of definition has you looking like a misshapen MallowMar. I mean, come on Peeps. 

So, knowing me, I had to find a way to elevate the Peep with chocolate and not destroy the inherent goodness of the Peep. If only for my own curiosity. And, yes, knowing me, I had to find a deeper meaning in my Peepquest. And damned if I didn’t. So here it goes…

A little chocolate, a little sugar, a lot of yum.

Quite often, when we think we are making something better, we concentrate too much on what “it” does not have and forget what the “it” was that made us fall in love with “it.” In this case the “it factor” being a Peep’s tasty outer shell.  Well, we can stop and love the Peep just as it is. A Peep is a Peep and there really is not substitute. Or we can give in a little to our desire of wanting more and add to it. But, and here is the important part, when we add to whatever we are adding to, perhaps we should not add so much that we forget what it is we are adding too. Head hurt yet? I guess, what I am getting at is there is a reason why we want to elevate something we love. And we first love it for what it is. So don’t lose the Peep for the chocolate. So I decided to return to the original Peep. I opted to dip only a part of each one in some dark chocolate and not cover them completely.  The rich chocolate was a wonderful addition and the original sugary coating a wonderful finish. Peeps, they’re deep.

Behold, the Brownookie

Can you really elevate a brownie? I mean, really, is it possible? And yes, before you say it, I know, ice cream. Of course.  That is a la mode but not the a la mode I was looking for. I wanted to elevate the brownie before it was even out of the pan, before the ice cream was out of the freezer.  And thanks to my brilliant colleague Lindsay, I  found it.  And it shall be henceforth know as … the Brownookie.

I was introduced to this amazing concoction one day when Lindsay brought a batch in to work for a birthday celebration. At first I could not believe my eyes. Could it really be? Yes it was!  A pan of brownies and a pan of chocolate chip cookies all in one. This most holy union of sweetness was gobbled up pretty quick but sweet, sweet Lindsay saved me a piece. She dubbed it the Brownookie. It was good. I mean really good. I mean slap your mama good. So good that I really had no choice. I had to make them myself.  But I had to be able to give them away  or I would be in serious trouble. Sweet, sweet, and divine chocolate-y trouble.

So I found a reason. I needed to thank a few people at work who have been really helpful over the last few weeks (most notably Lindsay, for bringing the Brownookie into my life.) Okay, I guess I did not NEED to thank them. I wanted to (make Brownookies) thank them.  And these treats are so easy to make. Just take your favorite brownie and chocolate chip cookie recipes,* from a box or from scratch, and combine. Pour the brownie batter in a pan and then dollop the chocolate chip cookie dough throughout. Follow the baking directions for the brownies. Ta da!!! Trust me, people will be impressed. Now I just need to find just the right flavor of ice cream.

 
*I wanted to make mine really rich so I opted to use dark chocolate. A lot of dark chocolate. So for the brownies I used Hershey’s special dark cocoa powder. For the chocolate chip cookies, I used their special dark chips.

The brownie recipe I recommend is from Tasty Kitchen and can be found here. They are moist and delicious and probably the easiest brownie recipe out there. The recipe for the cookie can be found here.  Actually I found the recipe on the back of the bag of Hershey’s Special Dark chips but this is the same.

February reading roundup: Procrastination is fun and educational

February was a month where I learned that reading is probably one of my favorite methods of procrastination, second only to sleeping. Or eating doughnuts, yeah, I would have to add eating doughnuts. 

Murder of the Century: The Gilded Age Crime That Scandalized a City & Sparked the Tabloid Wars, Paul Collins. Wow. You know those people who say, wouldn’t it be great to live in olden times? When things were so much simpler? Yeah, give them this book. And I am not talking about old-fashioned dentistry or pre-penicillin olden times. I am talking about how, say, the size of a person’s head or their ethnicity are considered proof of guilt in a murder trial, any murder trial. Scary olden times.  

The Night Strangers: A Novel, Chris Bohjalian. Spooky and creative with an unexpected ending. Yep, this is a good rainy day book.

How Georgia Became O’Keefe: Lessons on the Art of Living, by Karen Karbo. The painter Georgia O’Keeffe was an original. She followed her heart and her gut and lived her life deliberately with great and not-so-great results. But the results were her own and no one else’s. I will often read up on someone whom I admire and try to learn from them. But more often than not I confuse learning from them and emulating them. Author Karen Karbo does a wonderful job of painting the life of the artist and reminding the reader that if we want to become Georgia we have to be our true selves.

Let Me In, by John Ajvide Lindqvist. Along with the films of Ingmar Bergman, the Girl With the Dragon Tattoo trilogy and ABBA, this book once again proves that Sweden is home to some really, really dark people with some seriously scary and f*#&’d up imaginations. I kid. I love ABBA, for reals.  

The Essence of Happiness: A Guidebook for Living, His Holiness the Dalai Lama and Howard C. Cutler. If I were to sum up the message of this book up in one sentence it would be … If you want to truly experience happiness, put other’s happiness first.

The Idiot Girls’ Action-Adventure Club: True Tales from a Magnificent and Clumsy Life, by Laurie Notaro. Um, can someone be reincarnated while the are still alive? If so, I believe I have discovered one of my past lives. She is currently residing in Arizona.  

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, by Susan Cain. (audio) Thank you Susan Cain for validating my simple wish to just go home and put on my pajamas on Friday and remain in them until Monday morning. I now have scientific proof my desire to stay at home, eat cereal and watch a marathon of Downton Abbey is a biological imperative and not simply a case of the lazys.

Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death and Hope in a Mumbai Undercity, by Katherine Boo. (audio) You know how with the first book in the roundup, Murder of the Century, I wrote about how glad I am to be born now and not during another age? Let me further qualify my thankfulness that I was also born in the United States to a middle class family, blissfully ignorant of my good fortune. You can watch Slumdog Millionaire and tell yourself it is a work of fiction but listening to the non-fiction Behind the Beautiful Forevers, you are constantly reminded at how difficult and tragic other’s circumstances are and how insanely lucky we are. And a reminder of how powerful reporting and storytelling can be. I can not accurately describe how wonderful Katherine Boo’s writing and reporting are and I can not recommend this book enough. 

Mark my books, a unique place to pause

 

I attended the American Craft Council’s Baltimore show with my friend Woz last month. Woz is a talented reporter, a wonderful friend and the perfect craft show enabler. And the Baltimore show is our show. We don’t get to see each other as much as we would like but come February I know I can always count on her standing beside me while I look at all the beautiful objects I can’t afford. Thankfully, there are always a few smaller pieces I can, like this bookmark. Isn’t it gorgeous?! It is from G3 studios and someday I hope to acquire one of their salt and pepper grinders. They are works of art.

I love the idea of objects made from unexpected materials. Wood is not a rare or unique material. But as a bookmark, it is. I love to read. I love beautiful objects. I love this bookmark. I think I paid $8 for it. And more importantly, for all the beauty and pleasure it brings to me, it takes up virtually no extra room in my home. Score!

 

 

 

 

A round-up of literary impressions for January 2012

Don’t be too impressed with the number of books I read in January.  Basically I hibernate during that month. And since I live without cable television at home, I end up reading. Okay, maybe I did not read as much as I could. Actually, I guess I nap more than read. I nap a lot. So yes, no impressive feat here. 

As I venture on my quest to work my way through all the books I have sitting around my home, I would love to share my impressions of them with you. I figure this will make me accountable when it comes to actually working my way through all of them.   

 The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman, by Ernest J. Gaines. When I worked at B. Dalton after first moving to D.C., I decided “I would read my way through all the classics!” Yeah, naive of me. Turns out, there are a lot of them. Well, after working there for several years, I barely scratched the surface. There is so much good writing out there in the world and I nap a lot so, you know, I am kind of behind. After finally picking up a copy of this classic at the local Salvation Army last year and having it gather a sufficient amount of dust in my room, I read it. My impression? I studied history at college and love reading it. But, as is often the case, straight historical record can be pretty boring. Well, this novel and the genius of its author reminds me how a beautifully written work of fiction can capture the history of an era and a people like nothing else. 

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, By Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. At first I was worried since this book is written entirely as series of letters between several people. I am not sure why but I put off reading it because I thought the format would result in it feeling  scattered. As usual, I was wrong. It  was lovely and I found it a delight. I recommend it for your before bed reading. I mean, the longest chapter is the length of a letter. You can stay awake through a letter can’t you? 

 The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold. This page turner has been in my stack for years. It is a book that is worthy of both reading and discussing. Really, the most important advice I can give you. And I can not stress this enough. Do not, under any circumstance, rent the movie. 

 Pierre and Jean, by Guy Maupassant. I purchased this one because one of, if not the, greatest writer in the history of the English language was really into the author. Guy Maupassant inspired W. Somerset Maugham.  And Maugham? Maugham is the freaking bomb. I have another of Maupassant’s books, Bel Ami, waiting on deck. As for the Pierre and Jean, the story is a wonderful revelation of how far we can take an assumption and a self-perceived wrong and how we obsess about them until we make ourselves miserable. Yeah, January was kind of downer, can you tell? 

The Man Who Loved Books Too Much: The True Story of a Thief, a Detective, and the World of Literary Obsession, by Allison Hoover Bartlett The idea and subject of this book fascinated me. But I think it would have fascinated me more if it was a really long article instead.

The Bridges of Toko-Ri, by James A. Michener. I chose this classic in the stacks of a used bookstore thanks to three very important traits…..size, cost and page count. That would be easily fits in my purse, cheap and not very long. It lived up and exceeded all of my expectations. Besides, one should always have a book on hand when waiting in a long line or waiting for a friend at a bar. It looks okay to sit and be engrossed and captivated by a book. Being engrossed and captivated by a phone, not so much.  

The Grand Design, (audio) by Stephen Hawking and Leonard Mlodinow. If you ever wondered how stupid you could possibly feel, this is the audio book for you. It was only 4 1/2 hours long unabridged. Perfect for my drive from Blacksburg to Washington, D.C. And in that 4 1/2 hours, I can honestly say, with full humility, I understood not one sentence. Not a single one.

God Has a Dream: A Vision of Hope for Our Time,  by Desmond Tutu. Oh Bishop Tutu, I can not tell you how uplifting it was to see your smiling face on the cover of this book. I was feeling sorry for myself and yes, perhaps a wee bit bitter and vengeful, when I began your book. Perfect timing. The Most Reverend Desmond Tutu managed to school me and remind me of my insanely fortunate life in the sweetest way. His message is simple and I will attempt to sum it up in just a few short sentences …  God loves your enemies as much as he loves you. This does not excuse any real or perceived wrongs your enemies have done to you. But they are just as much God’s creation as you are.  And while it feels like God is absent in those moments of injustice he is not. God is always there because God created us in his image and created us as his instruments. His work comes through us. It is we who must answer hate and indignity with love and respect …  And I have one word for this book – impressive.

Of books and men…okay, mostly books.

I am pretty clueless when it comes to all things romance. The longest of my relationships could probably be counted in weeks.  And, well, I can pretty much sum up the tenor of those relationships in one word – dysfunctional. Yeah, no surprise there. Oh wait, no! My bad. There actually has been one love affair in my adult life that I have managed to sustain for quite some time. My love affair with books. Unlike my past relationships, this one has been going on for years. But like all of them, this one is just as filled with dysfunction.

Now, every relationship comes with some kind of baggage. In my case, it is the stacks of  books I have scattered around my home that I have yet to read. Physical manifestations of  failed relationships on display. I pass by them every day and, perhaps in denial, I  ignore the failure of follow through on my part that they  have come to symbolize.

Some books attracted me with their beautiful covers. Others with their price tag. Many I acquired because I thought society expected me to read them. Oprah Winfrey’s book club is probably responsible for many of those titles. Thanks a lot Oprah. And many appear to be strictly for show. Perhaps a few I secretly love or want to read but never really wanted my friends and family to know. Yeah, books are a lot like men. And instead of stopping and appreciating all the books I have at home, I continue to search for more books, expecting them to satisfy some inner need. All left unread.

So in my quest to simplify my life and elevate its quality, I will finally do something about all the piles of “I have to get around to reading them” books in my home. So I wandered around my home, grabbing the books I have stashed in the open and the ones stashed behind closed doors. I  stacked all of them along with many of the CDs I have acquired, for pretty much the same reasons, on a single book-case. And I will work my way through them, one by one, and figure out what I think of them. Not what I think I am supposed to think of them. Not what I think they make me look like, sitting on my shelves. And I will share my thoughts with you here.

I am sure I won’t feel much, one way or the other, for many of the books. Some may drive me crazy and leave me clueless and dumbfounded. Others will have me rolling over with laughter. Several will certainly challenge me. And if I am lucky, perhaps one will change my life. I wonder if this will work with men too? Hmm.

Superfluous Sadie photo: Valentine’s Day edition

Even Sadie can’t stop thinking of how sweet and dreamy she is. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Elevating a treat to a decadent dessert, no baking required…

 Every now and then I get a craving for a rice crispie type treat, particularly when I want something sweet and I am not in the mood to set off my home’s smoke alarm. The only skills involved in making them are melting and stirring. Maybe that is why we really only ever see the simple crispie treat as a snack, not a dessert. Well, let’s elevate this crispy, marshmallow goodness. How you ask? Simple, dark chocolate. I mean, adding dark chocolate elevates everything. Except maybe adding some dark chocolate to dark chocolate. You can’t elevate perfection.

Melt the dark chocolate*  and then with a fork or spoon just drizzle that dark, tasty goodness on your treats. Dark chocolate really does go a long way so drizzle, don’t pour. Oh yes, and I cut out my treats with a circle cookie cutter to up their fanciness. Yep, that’s how I roll.  You’re impressed, I can tell.

*I like my coffee maker method best. I put the chocolate in a ceramic or glass bowl and place it on the heating element of my coffee maker. It slowly melts the chocolate and the chances of burning the chocolate is pretty much nil.

Planning a sweet, sweet year ahead…

I resolve to work you, tasty delicious chocolate, into my life this year. A lot more.

I suppose it is about time for me to write out my New Year’s resolutions. Yes, it is February 10th. What of it?

Actually, the idea of resolutions are good but the be-all and end-all expectations behind them, not so much. Some experts tell us some of us fail because we forget to be specific about our resolutions.  We need to resolve to say, lose 10 lbs in ten weeks as opposed to just lose weight. Others tell us to not overwhelm ourselves with too many resolutions at once. I mean, do I really need to come up with several sweeping changes to my life when I can’t even consistently make my bed every day. I am 42, I should have that routine down by now. So who is right? Does it matter?

So here are my resolutions…

I want to simplify my life. I want less stuff in my home. I want more life in my days. I want to surround myself with people I love and people who make me want to be a better person. I want to divest my life of people who suck the life out of me and make me want to, in the poetic words of Wayne Brady,  ”choke a b—-.”  And most importantly, I want to a la mode the crap out of life.  Vague? Kinda. Too many? Perhaps. Still worth trying? I think so.

And I apologize for cruelly teasing you with a photograph of chocolate in order to get you to read this post. But hey, it worked! Psych!!!! Okay, sorry, I promise, chocolate is going to factor heavily in future posts. Happy now?

It feels like forever since I posted. Or at least 44 days…

Even Sadie just needs her "me time."

Hey, how have you been? It’s been a while, I know. I pretty much took the month of January off from my blog. Now normally I would apologize and say, I suck. I would offer my excuses that the holidays were a little harder for me than I thought they would be. I would post a cute pic of Sadie to make you go awe and forget you are mad at me for every time you clicked on my blog and saw the same damn post. (Okay, so I did use a cute pic of Sadie, but really, how cute is she? For reals.) But this time, instead of excuses, I want to explain to your dear reader (and I am pretty sure there is just one of you so, you know, thanks) my absence.

I live with depression and sometimes, even when you have an awesome doctor and have hit the prescription jackpot of therapy and medication, depression will still find you. And when you have lived with it for many years you know that no matter how prepared you are to do battle with it, you occasionally must surrender yourself to it. It is a part of who you are. It in no way defines you but it did forge who you have become.  Winston Churchill referred to his depression as the “black dog.” A companion of sorts. A creature always nearby, sometimes just out of sight, but always waiting, nipping at his heels. Others used the image of the black dog before Churchill, but it was reading about the statesman that introduced me to the term. And thinking of depression as a dog makes the condition much more manageable for me. There are no ulterior motives with a dog, there is no spite. Depression is not a malevolent creature. It just is what it is. And the most important way of dealing with depression is to acknowledge it, respect it and to even, at times, embrace it.

This past January, I gave myself over to it. Now, it does not mean I walked around sad or pouting. I am pretty sure I was my normal self at work. I did not dramatically break down in tears every ten minutes. Depression is not so much a temporary feeling as sadness but more a state of mind. It is so not that one-dimensional. Depressed people are not constantly crying and Prozac is not a happy pill. The only common trait the various degrees of depression have, in my uneducated mind, is the bone weary tiredness it creates with its constant mental games. I will paraphrase Sally Kempton and say it is [ both exhausting and ] difficult to fight an enemy that has outposts in your head. 

So, for the past month, I fought. And I slept. I stayed in more than usual. I read and kept to myself. I thought. I thought a lot. I walked.  And just in the past week or so, blessedly, my black dog has retreated and we are living once again in peaceful coexistence.

But, oddly, depression can be as much of a blessing as a curse. It’s true. Any amount of sympathy and empathy that exists in me is because I have experienced depression’s isolation and sadness. I know that I can overcome most anything life can throw at me because, despite my combat fatigue, I have fought depression and I am still here. And I have learned that I am not alone in my fight, some wonderful souls in my life have fought along with me.  My black dog reminds me to find the good in a bad situation. He (yes, my black dog is a he, nothing to read into that) reminds me to appreciate the smallest of moments. To savor the simplest of pleasures. 

And of course, dear reader, if I did not have depression, I would never have started this blog. To write about elevating many of what often becomes our most mundane tasks of life is, in some ways, my very own, self prescribed, cognitive therapy. And I thank you very much for indulging me.    

Okay, fine, I know, I suck.

This Christmas reminders replace memories

Every year I can’t wait to put my Christmas tree up. I collect ornaments all year. If I go somewhere during the previous year my souvenir will be an ornament. If I go to an event or have a wonderful time with friends and there is a way to commemorate it with an ornament I do. I have a tree filled with ornaments symbolizing weddings, trips and moments. Every year I take a trip down memory lane when I put them up. This year I managed to put the tree up and string some lights on it the day after Thanksgiving. But that is where I stopped. The ornaments remain in their boxes and bags and perhaps next year I will manage to get them on the tree.

I have not been feeling much in the Christmas spirit this year. I believe that is why there has been such a gap in my posts this month. And not surprisingly, there are many reasons. Work has been filled with stress and an abundance of negative people popping up on my life have sadly been plentiful over the past few months. Life is difficult enough, but for a blessed few, not so much. Sadly, that is where those lucky people feel the need to create drama and nurture ugliness. But I guess that is life. And more importantly, where I remind myself, I have a job, a home and opposite but equally amazing people in my life. Look out the window or turn on the television, we don’t need to create drama and ugliness, it spreads like a virus without any help from us.

But I believe the real reason I have not been in the Christmas spirit is this is the first Christmas without my Mom. Granted, she was, in her final years, not really with us completely during the holiday. But for the majority of my life, she was Christmas. The decorations would go up for the first Sunday of Advent. Her cookies made with a cookie press would be baked. Our biggest tradition was putting up our tree on Christmas Eve after we returned from Mass, just in time for Santa to come down the chimney and decorate it. Really, it was my Mom, Dad and older siblings decorating it and bringing in the gifts. But the transformation from heading to bed leaving behind a bare tree to coming downstairs to a Christmas wonderland was mind-blowing for a child. Now as an adult, I can’t begin to imagine how much work that was for her.

But something happened a week or two ago that brought me back into the Christmas spirit. I was sitting there, staring at a tree that “should” be decorated. Perhaps out of guilt, I took a few of the orange slices I dried and tied them to the tree with ribbon. It was something at least. Then, a few days later, the Christmas cards started to arrive. Um, thank you everyone who was together enough this year to send them. As you might guess, I did not get around to that this year. I was looking for a place to put them when I thought, hmm, perhaps the tree. And that is when it happened. Without taking an ornament down or forcing myself to feel the season, I had a tree, filled with reminders of how truly blessed I am. It started to feel a lot like Christmas after all.

Merry Christmas to all!

The simple glass jar: Holiday cookie edition

Adorable! I know! And so very festive. And the best part, these are the tri-color cookies I made last July. I wanted to test out how long I could freeze these cookies and have them taste the same as the day they were made. Turns out, I can freeze them at least five months. I love you tri-color cookie!

But what makes this cookie gift adorable is the simple glass jar. Why pack up Christmas cookies in a tin or a box when they are already festive in appearance. I always have glass jars on hand so there was no running out to purchase something special for gift giving. I had on hand some remnants purchased from the local fabric store that I cut into small squares – no sewing required. Score!

Oh yes, and you might ask, what about the orange? The cookies have orange marmalade spread thinly between each layer. The Christmas Orange, you can’t escape it.

Want a green Christmas? Go orange.

What do you have after you purchase an entire box of clementines and a big ol bag of navel oranges and you have enjoyed just the right amount of candied peel and orange flavored desserts? If you are like me, you have a good number of oranges left over. Have those oranges become a little, I don’t know, stale? Oranges eventually go bad like any fruit and I am not going to pretend that they don’t go bad on my watch. But a questionable orange is still a usable orange. Oranges and clementines make for lovely Christmas decorations. All you need is a mandolin and an oven. That would be the food slicing mandolin and not the musical instrument of the lute family. Just wanted to be perfectly clear on that.

The mandolin and I have a love/hate relationship. I love how uniform and perfect it slices oranges and apples and really, anything. I hate how the mandolin’s incredibly sharp blade has left me with no definable fingerprints. So, when slicing oranges, use your best judgement.

You can slice an orange as thin as you possibly can with a knife but I have never been able to successfully slice a thin, even slice of orange with a knife. Only a thin, even slice of my finger. Plus, the thicker the slice of orange the longer it takes to dry out. An orange slice on the super thin setting of my mandolin takes approximately two hours in an oven set at 200 degrees -  just warm enough to dry out the orange and not bake it. I would also recommend placing the slices on parchment paper while they are drying out in the oven for easy removal. The parchment absorbs the moisture and the orange slice does not stick to the pan.   

What can you do with these slices once they are done? Oh the ideas are endless I am sure. But, for now, I will focus on only two. 

They make very nice ornaments for your Christmas tree. Doesn’t the ornament above look lovely? No need to feel you must have an expensive and ornately adorned tree. The slices of a few oranges are plenty ornamental all on their own. Add some ribbon and it is downright festive.

I have also used orange slices when wrapping up a gift of candied orange peel or the orange vanilla shortbread. And there really is no need to present your gift in a fancy tin or fancy wrap, all of which usually comes with a fancy price. Just a simple white box, a dried orange slice and some ribbon and you will have a memorable and heartfelt package for what I am sure is an equally memorable and heartfelt gift. Enjoy!