Christmas Burglar

This story was published in the print edition of Today’s News-Herald Dec. 23, 2009 but did not make the paper’s Web site. I wanted to share the news.

“Grinch steals mom’s trust. Robber takes Christmas gifts from under family’s tree”

Today's News-Herald Photo: Karen Caporale is pictured Tuesday with the torn packaging that contained a Christmas gift for her son just 12 hours before.

 

By JAYNE HANSON

TODAY’S NEWS-HERALD

A real-life Grinch entered a Lake Havasu City residence at about 2 a.m. Tuesday and stole presents from beneath the Christmas tree, a wallet and cell phone from the kitchen counter, and the trust a neighborhood mom had in the community.

“I am just flabbergasted, just flabbergasted … I was wrapping gifts at 2 a.m. They (thief) must have been watching me through my window,” said Karen Caporale. The perpetrator took presents that were for her grandchildren and her family, she said.

 The crime occurred after someone reportedly entered the residence in the 1800 block of Willow Avenue and stole four presents including a flannel shirt valued at $30, a pair of jeans valued at $30, a department store gift card valued at $200 and a set of lawn darts valued at $10, according to police reports.

Caporale had just finished wrapping one of the gifts in a box with bright red paper. She took a 10-15 minute break from her late night wrapping to switch her laundry. It was then her home was burglarized.

After she discovered the missing gifts, she woke her son and his few overnight guests to help her look around the yard while they waited for police.

The box and ripped red paper were found in a bush in a nearby neighbor’s yard. The jeans within were gone.

The local mom thinks the thief may have entered through an unlocked sliding patio door near the Christmas tree and gathered the gifts from underneath. Next, the thief probably stepped up two steps into the kitchen and took a cell phone and wallet from the countertop, snatched a few recently wrapped gifts from the couch and left through a second sliding patio door.

The personal items that were situated on the kitchen countertop were within 10 feet of a large kennel containing two family dogs, a dachshund and a pug. The dogs made no indication at the time of the intrusion, Caporale said.

There may be a reason for that.

Caporale has made it a point to provide a safe haven for kids in Havasu looking for a little extra love, a meal, a shower, a warm bed or just a safe place to rest. To accomplish such a task, the Caporale’s doors are always open, the fridge is always full and a friendly face or warm motherly hug is just around the corner.

“I provide a safe house and now I don’t know if I can provide a safe house anymore … I feel like I have been raped,” she said.

The neighborhood mom has her suspicions on who may have done this, but has chosen to sign a complaint refusal with Lake Havasu City Police Department. The refusal stops any further investigations into the incident.

 “Just that they had the gall to walk in my home while I was awake and take presents from under my tree. If they need them (presents) that bad — it’s Christmas — they can just have them,” she said.

True to Dr. Seuss’ storyline, the real-life Grinch’s attempts to stop Christmas came up a bit short.

Caporale said Christmas at her house is to celebrate the birth of Jesus and to celebrate the friends and family who are such a large part of her life. And that is exactly what she plans to do.

The neighborhood mom will have her yearly holiday bash and open her home to 25-30 family and friends Christmas Eve.

The sheer curtains in her window have been replaced with thicker curtains and the doors will be locked at night in the wake of the burglary, Caporale said.

Unfortunately, the few gifts that were stolen were the bulk of her family’s Christmas, she said. Luckily, a few gifts were in hiding until their presentation Christmas Day.

“The last dollar has been spent on hors d’oeuvres for the open house,” Caporale said. No more money will be spent to replace the gifts, but Christmas is about much more than gifts, she said.

You may contact the reporter at jhanson@havasunews.com.

The Caporale's ... and a few family friends pictured by the Christmas Tree (the scene of the crime) Dec. 22, 2009

Live Nativity Scene

The “Live Drive-thru Nativity” hosted by Havasu Bible Fellowship in Lake Havasu City’s neighboring community of Desert Hills was just as good this year in its new location as it was last year in its old Havasu location.

There are two annual Christmas events I demand my husband take me this time of year: the London Bridge Yacht Club’s “Parade of Lights” in Bridgewater Channel and the live nativity scene. 

A scene from the "Live Drive-thru Nativity" Dec. 20, 2009

 

We went on the second night of the showing, which was Sunday Dec. 20. We waited in a line of many other cars filled with many other spectators for about 25 minutes. The line probably stretched back just over half a mile from the location of our local Bethlehem on London Bridge Road. 

Jesus, Mary and Joseph ... (I just HAD to say that, sorry)

 

There are usually 3,300 people who attend the annual two-day event each year, according to organizers. It is free admission with nothing more than an invitation to a Christmas Eve candlelight service at the church shoved through your open vehicle window upon leaving. 

For me, the draw is not only the uniqueness of the volunteer actors, the costumes and the animals, but more specifically the camel. 

I wait all year just to see the camel.

Why? I don’t know. They are such interesting creatures, I mean, they spit, for one. How crazy is that? So awesome. And they have such interesting feet. I mean, what, don’t they have like three toes or something? Weird. Creepy weird. 

Something about them makes me think of foreign desert lands of long ago, shrouded individuals traveling by camel caravan in the middle of some barren land in a windy, dust storm to some faraway destination for some life-or-death reason. I can only imagine their  bright, jeweled fabrics whipping in the breeze on the backs of these beasts, these camels that slowly lumber along, one three-toed step at a time.

All together now, call me crazy … “Crazy” … cool. Merry Christmas!

Our in-house Christmas Bash

The in-house Christmas Bash in the newsroom was good. The company catered in Golden Corral for us and the eatery showed up with the whole spread including salad, dinner rolls, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, ham and turkey. 

The whole spread ...

Like last year, a dessert contest followed. The newspaper staff can choose to participate by bringing an anonymous dessert entry. Then, all the newspaper employees get to taste-test the entries and vote on the one they think is the most delicious. 

The dessert contest ...

 As I predicted, a certain co-worker of mine took first place with a cheesecake-type dessert that was truly delicious. She promised to share the recipe with me next week. And as a recipe collector, I am very excited about that.  

There was a tie for second place but I had a crazy day and even though I made a point to ask, I am drawing a blank at the moment and am unable to share just what types of dishes they were. Congrats to those who placed. Sorry. Deadline, what can I say?

The in-house gift exchange and raffle prize giveaway occurred while I was out of the newsroom interviewing a restaurant owner who is quickly approaching a 25 year milestone of being in business in Lake Havasu City. Nice guy, but that is neither here nor there. 

I chose to forgo participating in the gift exchange this year. Trust me when I say that I am really just not that organized. Heck, maybe next year I will have a better feeling about it. 

Luckily, I asked one of my editors to keep an eye on my raffle ticket and my number was called …  (Yay!) Two movie tickets … Sweet! I just LOVE going to the movies and am very excited. 

Christmas in the newsroom : )

 I must say, it was a pretty good day. (Thanks, Mike!) Personally, I think we should have some sort of celebration scheduled every month throughout the year. So fun. 

Well, until next year it is. I have every intention of finding an award-winning recipe that will take the cake, so to speak, during next year’s competition. Hmmm … and so my research begins. 

May the best mixture of flour, eggs, chocolate, sugar and whatever else win. Merry Christmas!

My Witching Hour

I experience a severe change of attitude at the very moment I have worked an eight-hour day. As soon as I work one minute longer than eight hours — I am fit for a straight jacket, no lie.

Now, in retrospect, I have to wonder if it was all those years of punching a time clock in the many factories and casinos I worked that has conditioned me to look for the that final cut off, that distinct moment or beacon of quitting time.

In this line of work, there is no such light at the end of the tunnel. I am required to stay until my work is done. But that doesn’t stop me from twitching as soon as I reach that eight-hour mark. 

The anxieties that accompany those eight bells in my mind are no match for many of my life experiences other than that time I had to stay the weekend in jail. And even then I knew come six o’clock Sunday evening I was out of there.

The same with the double shifts of 14 or even 16 hours. I was completely fine because I knew when my time was up. 

But this I find to be a completely excruciating experience.

As a reporter, you can forget about meeting your girlfriends for cocktails, or making that 5:15 aerobics class, dinner with out-of-town relatives and that ceramics or yoga class you paid hard-earned money to sign up for at the local community college. Why? Because you won’t be there. 

Nope. You will be putting the finishing touches on some random sentence that didn’t quite sit right with an editor, waiting for an email or phone call that could contain the tiniest detail to put the cherry on top of said random story, or trying to write like mad to complete another random story that was more than likely a late assignment from previously mentioned editor. 

So, there it is. My life on a stick. Hmmmph. 

I love my job and find it rewarding about 92 percent of the time. The other 8 percent I find myself daydreaming of a comeback tour as a receptionist, a job that holds the very ideal for which I strive — a distinct quitting time. And, man, was I a heck of a receptionist!

Or I could come to realize that I am lazy and just don’t want to do the work. Ok, some days this is true. But, really, I think I am painfully misunderstood. 

My manic mood swings that come on the heels of an eight-hour work day, my witching hour, are probably considered unnecessary, problematic, obtrusive and offensive to some and I get it. That’s only fair, I am quite sure.

The thing is, the anger is not a product of crunch time of deadline or any of that. It is a pure and real struggle with my inner thoughts and emotions as I confront the fact that I very well may have sold my soul to the devil to write.

Think about that.

I love to write more than anything. But to write after my inspiration has been crucified upon the passing of that eighth hour truly makes me feel like a prisoner, a tool, somebody’s female canine.

It is within the realm of my inner self that I find myself on this battlefield without the appropriate or effective tools to handle the pressure. I crack every time. WTF?

Seriously? I would welcome any advice at this point. Quitting just isn’t an option.

Is it really the American way to take something we love, try to turn it into an occupation and then beat it to death, everyday, therefore making it our worst nightmare? Dear Lord, what have I done?

Cappuccino Brownie DISASTER!

I have been busy searching for a stellar holiday dessert in order to participate in the in-house dessert contest that coincides with our yearly work Christmas party at the newspaper.

This year, I tried a Cappuccino Brownie recipe I think I found last year in a random Woman’s World. I know, go figure, that publication promotes some swear-by weight loss technique each week or so, right alongside calorie filled recipes. Anyway, the recipe and ingredients sounded like a winner.

This brownie/cake-like dish was so rich I couldn’t take more than a few small bites. It was WAY too sweet. Needless, to say, I took the sweet treat to my in-laws and left it. I mean, I am having a hard enough time committing to my workouts to have that kind of stuff calling my name.

In my over-confidence as a self-proclaimed pretty good country cook, my  next step was to “fudge” the recipe a bit. Add a little more of this or a little less of that in order to improve the recipe.

Embarrassingly enough, the whole pan of brownies was (accompanied by a string of good old-fashion profanities) thrown into the trash straight away. The crumpled up recipe followed as you could imagine.

After all the fuss, I am now completely at a loss and find myself back at square one, which is finding a clever and delicious dessert recipe to prepare as my entry. Heck, there is a cash prize at stake here. Hmmph.

I came across a simple cake-mix cookie recipe, but it seems to bare bones. The recipes are first tested on my husband, bless his heart. But, he is a fussy eater and if he thinks my dessert is good, I might just have a prayer.

While discussing my strategy with my co-workers in the newsroom it was determined I am insane. Why? Because of the money I have spent on ingredients in search of the perfect dessert is probably more than the prize money and the chances of winning are entirely slim. I’ve seen the competition. (Whoever made those M&M cookies last year, is a whiz. After I skulked away with my third one, the entry won my vote.)

So here’s the deal. One more. I have just one more recipe to try. The last trick up my sleeve … a recipe a bit more advanced than my country cooking roots are used to, but it just may be worth the extra effort.

I will keep you posted on how it goes. The competition is next week. In order to obtain the anonymity of my entry, which is blindly  judged by Today’s News-Herald staffers, I am unable to reveal the dessert …

So, here’s to happy cooking, a light at the end of my dessert-search tunnel and those few extra pounds on my hips that are the result of my vain attempts to rid my kitchen of the evidence.

My Thanksgiving Guilty Pleasure

Ok, everyone has there favorite Thanksgiving related dish be it the mashed potatoes and gravy, pumpkin pie, homemade stuffing, cheesy green beans, seven-layer salad or cranberry salad. For me, it is the green bean casserole.

Making enough food to feed a crowd with intentions of leftovers is always an effort made by those of us who indulge in preparing a full spread of these comfort foods. And I am no different.

Cooking for six this year, we had a good amount of leftovers. When the wide array of dishes were served up a second time, the green bean casserole was nowhere to be found.

It was strategically hidden within a secondary refrigerator, on purpose. Yes, it is true. My beloved green bean casserole is showcased only one time … at the initial feast.

This is done so I can HOG the delightful concoction all to myself at home in the quiet of my kitchen. I wait until alone and scoop up a small plateful and microwave it for exactly two minutes. It is then smothered in ketchup and stirred into a mash before I snuggle in seated in front of the television with nothing but my plate of leftover green bean casserole and a fork … Mmm-mmM!

My very own Thanksgiving guilty pleasure. But this ritual is only effective once per year. If it is duplicated during the calendar year when it isn’t Thanksgiving, it just isn’t quite the same. It loses something somehow, like something is missing. Hmmmm.

Green Bean Casserole RECIPE:

3/4 Cup milk

1/8 tsp. pepper

1 – can cream of mushroom soup

2 – cans green beans, drained

1 1/3 Cup French’s french fried onions

1 tsp. soy sauce

In a 1.5 quart casserole, mix all ingredients except 2/3 Cup french fried onions. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes or until hot. Top with remaining french fried onions and bake 5 minutes longer or until onions brown. Serves six.

(I double this, of course.)

Green Chile Chicken Enchiladas Recipe

This is one of my tried-and-true favorites. They are a bit of work, but oh so worth it.

To make Green Chile Chicken Enchiladas:

2 Cups chopped, cooked chicken

1 (4 oz.) can diced green chiles

2 Tbs butter or margarine

1/8 Cup flour

1/4 tsp. salt

1 1/4 Cup chicken broth

3/4 tsp. chicken bouillon granules

1/2 Cup sour cream

3/4 Cup grated cheddar, mozzeralla or monterey jack cheese

6 (12-inch) flour or corn tortillas

HOW TO MAKE:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a bowl, combine chicken and green chiles, set aside.

In a saucepan, melt butter. Stir in flour and salt; cook for two minutes. Add chicken broth all at once cook until thickened and bubbly, stirring constantly with a wire whisk. Add bouillon granules and cook additional two minutes.

Remove mixture from heat. Stir in sour cream and cheese (reserve 1/4 Cup). Stir 1/2 Cup sauce into chicken-chile mixture. Dip each tortilla into remaining sauce then fill with 1/4 Cup chicken-chile mixture. Burrito wrap or toll tortilla tightly and place seam-side down in rectangle baking dish.

Pour remaining sauce over top and sprinkle with reserved cheese. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes or until bubbly. Serves six.

The Peters’ Corn Salsa Recipe

To make The Peters’ Corn Salsa:

1 bag of frozen white corn

1 can black beans, drained and rinsed

1 (or 1/2 depending on size) red onion, chopped

1/4 cup (0r more) of cilantro, chopped

2 Tbs. red wine vinegar

2 Tbs. olive oil

3 Tbs. lime juice

Combine and let sit a bit to thaw corn. Serve with tortilla chips.

 

Capitol Christmas Tree 2009

The nation’s “People’s Christmas Tree” was selected from the White Mountains within the boundaries of Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest in the northeastern part of Arizona. It is the first time in U.S. history Arizona has gifted the tree destined to grace the grounds of the White House in Washington, D.C. during the holiday season.

The tree travelled through Lake Havasu City today along its tour through the state … and I was there.

A true Christmas and holiday fanatic, I was panicked and nearly heartbroken today at the thought I would not be in town to welcome the 70-some-foot tree into town. You see, I was assigned to attend a county supervisors meeting in Kingman (YAWN).

To my delight, the tree was still on our main street and by luck I was able to spend a quick minute during my lunch hour.

The unique experience of climbing the four or five steps to peer into the truck and seeing the tip of the tree and its giantness resting as if sleeping on its way across America left me feeling somehow honored, prideful and humbled  all at once. THIS was a really special tree.

The tree is scheduled to arrive in the nation’s capitol Nov. 30. By then, it will have stopped in about 26 communities in Ariz. as well as single stops in Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Tennessee, Virginia and Maryland before it is presented to Congress.

According to Capitol Christmas Tree 2009’s Web site, the tree is taller than a seven-story building, and will be delivered with 10,000 handcrafted ornaments made by children in Arizona as well as 80 companion trees that will be placed in offices throughout the captiol.

The tree itself is believed to be 125 years old — that means its was growing for 28 years BEFORE Arizona was even a state. It was truly a part of the LAST of the real Wild West … Wow … (Arizona became the 48th state in the Union February 14, 1912.)

In January 2010, the tree will be chipped into mulch and used throughout the Capitol Complex landscape projects.

So, I am left marked. The experience is something I will not soon forget. In the words of ol’ St. Nick: “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

(Today’s News-Herald’s freelance photographer was assigned to attend the event. She reported the tree as over 80-foot in length. Check out the short story on the newspaper’s Web site for a few more details.)

“One Thousand White Women – The Journals of May Dodd” by Jim Fergus

This historical novel is set in the untamed plains of 1874 and begins with a woman being placed into a psych home by her family because she ran away to have children with a man they believed was beneath her station.

While detained in the looney bin, she learned of an unusual program that could eventually earn her the freedom that was so casually taken from her.

The program was a Cheyenne chief’s request for 1,000 white women to breed among the natives in trade for 1,000 horses. According to the book, this proposal is logged in actual U.S. government history, however, was dismissed and brushed under the rug of time. The novel is a spin on the fictional reality of the trade.

In the story, women from psychiatric wards were considered prime candidates for the adventure and if the women followed through and bore the fruit of their new native husbands, there freedom would be restored after a time.

The story is told in a series of fictional jounals, May Dodd’s journals. The entries are thoughtfully woven all the way through and tie nicely into a truly unexpected ending.

May Dodd befriends other women who share her situation during the journey into the untamed plains the wild Cheyenne called home. Along the way, she has an unlikely romanctic indiscretion with an Army captain on the eve before her new life. Little does she know it will carry through the rest of her days.

May Dodd faces many challenges while finding her place in the foreign community that include camping-type conditions in an overcrowded teepee, a sexual attack on the plains by a drunken half-breed and an erotic wedding night mating ceremony. She and the other white brides later learn the terrifying effects of alcohol on their native community.

As the months pass children begin being born to the handful of white women who have stuck out the agreement. For reasons I will not disclose here, May Dodd finds herself in a compromising position when her own child is born.

Near the end, May Dodd faces an ultimate decision to stand with one foot in the white man’s world and a life she once knew or to honor her place in the native life she has grown into.

The structure of this book’s storyline is unique, fresh and inspiring especially to someone like me (who loves creative writing).

In a word, clever, to say the least.