The Science of Sheets

After a relaxing weekend I'm always geared up for the week and my Monday - which I always reserve for cleaning up the house.  I figure if I get the house all spic and span at the beginning of the week, I have the rest of the week to do all of the other things I want to do: cooking classes, volunteer work, studying for the GRE, playing piano, etc.

Today I finally decided - after years of laundering - to learn how to properly fold a fitted sheet.  It is a venture I've been meaning to undertake for some time now.  Emboldened by a user-friendly YouTube video, and armed with my fresh-out-of the-dryer lavender bed linens - I set out on a scientific experiment in homemaking.

My hypothesis:
If I learn how to efficiently fold a fitted sheet, then I will maximize storage space and create a more orderly linen closet.

Since all hypotheses need to be testable (measured in some capacity), I decided to take before and after pictures of the linen closet in order to evaluate my statement. **Please note that my lavender sheets, which needed to be put in the closet, were not in this photo as they had just come out of the dryer.**

Before:

After viewing my trusty How to Fold a Fitted Sheet video twice, I decided that I was ready for the challenge.

My initial product turned out quite well:

In case you couldn't tell, the fitted sheet is the one on top / to the left.

Fueled by my first try, I decided to tackle the rest of the linen closet.  Five fitted sheets, five flat sheets, one duvet cover, and fourteen pillowcases later, the closet was a transformed space.

After:

As you can tell, learning how to fold the fitted sheet allowed me to create a more aesthetically pleasing closet, while also maximizing my storage space - there's room for more sheets, if necessary. All-in-all, a successful trial and experiment in the arena of homemaking!

With my hypothesis validated, and my house all clean and fragrant, I browsed through my recipe box and found a dinner that I knew would satisfy both Matt and myself - French Onion Soup (see recipe under Erica's Epicurean Creations - Simple Supper for Two).

By 5:30, when Matt pulled into the garage, I was just finishing broiling the crusty bread and gruyere on top of the ramekins filled with the hearty soup.  We sat at the dining room table, discussed our respective days, and just enjoyed sitting down and relaxing with one another at the end of the day.

Crocker, 2012: A Trade Odyssey

Crocker, Missouri.  Population: 1,033.  Total Area: 1.2 square miles. Founded: 1854 - 1868 - 1875 - 1911...it's complicated.  Claim to fame - the Frisco Railroad and Jake Simpson.

Okay, so before I go any further, you're probably wondering a couple of things:
1) Why did I go and explore a 1.2 square mile town?
2) Who is Jake Simpson?

The answer to the first question lies in my new volunteer job at the Loving Paws Adoption Center, where I have spent the past couple of days getting to know the cats and dogs of Pulaski County who are looking for a home. I've been spending my mornings taking the "kids" out for walks, cleaning up their kennels, and giving them some much needed love and affection. In the span of 48 hours I've become totally smitten with just about each and every one of them. They've officially "sunk their claws" into me.

Since I spent my Wednesday morning at the shelter I figured that I might as well spend my afternoon there too, exploring my new city of venture.  Granted, Crocker is not normally the kind of city you write home about, but it is the kind of town you blog about!

I suppose that I write about towns like Crocker because they wrench at my heart; I don't want them to be lost to the pages of time. Much like Devils Elbow, Crocker has been left to its own devices since the lifeblood of the village went elsewhere - in this case, the railroad.  And much like Devils Elbow, there's such a small population that keeps dwindling away with each census that I wonder if the two places will even be inhabited in 150 years.

It's hard to say when Crocker was established, as no two sources say the same thing. What I have pieced together is that the beginnings of the town started with a small trading post to the north of the present-day city, named Humboldt. In the mid-19th century Humboldt had "a small store, a few log cabins and a boarding house/inn." Given my understanding of history and trade routes at the time, and thanks to my friends at Wikipedia, I would surmise that while Humboldt was not directly on the Santa Fe trail, it was within a days journey by wagon (only 30 miles away). Thus began the area's history as a depot for trade and commerce.

When rail began to take off in the 1860's, many companies began dickering about how to best connect the Eastern seaboard of the country to the Western coast, and no matter which way you sliced it almost all rail lines came through the middle of America, across the Mississippi, into St. Louis, and right across Missouri.  Whether heading to the northwest via the Union Pacific or Central Pacific Railroad systems, or southwest along the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe (AT&SF RR) or the South Pacific Railroad systems, Missouri was in the cross-hairs.

In 1868 a depot was struck at the present location of Crocker for a stop on the St. Louis - San Francisco ("The Frisco!') Railroad line.  In 1875 the town received it's official name, christened after a major stockholder of the railroad - Eurilis J. Crocker.  Then finally, in 1911, the village was legally incorporated. Thus my consternation in figuring out when it was established!

Through it all Crocker maintained its stop on the railroad, acting as the central shipping hub in Pulaski county. But with the railroad came all of its economic successes and failures for the better part of a century. Stuck in the middle, Crocker went through boons and downfalls as the St. Louis-San Francisco succeeded, went bankrupt, sold their lines to competitors (Southern Pacific, Atlantic-Pacific, Burlington Northern), and finally - in the 1980's - went belly-up. Since then, Crocker's been in a depression.

Still there's a glimmering of hope for the city.  Perhaps some rich celebrity will see its charm - much like Kim Basinger saw for Braselton, GA - buy it, revamp it and revive it. Maybe it will be Crocker's own son...Jake Simpson!

So, to tackle the second question that I know has been weighing on your mind since the beginning of this post, I will now answer: "Who is Jake Simpson?"

In 2003 CBS revived the 1980's predecessor to American Idol: Star Search. You remember Star Search - Ed McMahon's other job when he wasn't sitting next to Johnny Carson on The Tonight Show? It was HUGE in the 80's and early 90's!  I still remember watching LeAnn Rimes perform on Star Search and winning Best Junior Vocalist.  But, unlike LeAnn and the original amateur hour reality show - Jake Simpson (the Season One and Season Two Grand Champion) of the New Star Search (which only ran for two years) were non-existent to me before tonight.  I didn't know CBS had tried to bring back my child-hood dream!  Of course until The Big Bang Theory came along a few years ago, most of CBS's primetime shows were barely keeping the network's EKG above a flatline.

So, I was skeptical about Jake Simpson...and then I "You Tube'd" him. The guy has talent! Unfortunately, since his 15 minutes of fame back in '03 and '04, he's been relatively underground. I found out he was living in LA between 2006 and 2009, performing at the "Upright Cabaret." But the airwaves have been silent for the past few years as to his whereabouts, or if he's working on an album.  He did have a record deal with Sony a few years back, but the album didn't do too well.  Still, I have hopes that for Crocker's sake Jake is in Germany, singing electro-pop-dance tunes, putting David Hasselhoff to shame, and saving up enough money to come back to the Ozarks and save his city from economic despair!

Despite it's lackluster downtown, Crocker does have some bright-spots. It's on a beautiful drive through the mountains, it has a very nice community park and municipal pool, and it has a group of citizens who do care about their small town, their people, and their pets. So, whether it's Jake or a patriotic group of Crocker-ites, I hope that the future of the town isn't as doomed as I had previously made it out to be, and that 150 years from now Crocker will be going through it's fifth birth: incorporation as a city.

Refereences:
Santa Fe Trail
"Ship it on the Frisco!"
Superpages - Crocker
Wikipedia - Crocker
Jake Simpson

La Belle Vie

It's been nearly a week since I last posted a blog, and I feel like I've been away for too long. How I've been longing to feel the click of the keyboard beneath my fingers...

Prior to the weekend I already had my post for Monday (yesterday) drafted in my mind's eye.  Beautiful pictures of Stone Hill Winery, the Katy Trail and the Hermanhoff Inn would have dotted the webpage, and a story about our lovely weekend in Hermann, Missouri - sampling the spirits from various wineries - would have been told. But, before we could leave for the little German village on the Missouri River on Saturday morning...Matt and I got sick.

We had made plans last month to visit the town, stay at a local B&B, and go on the Hermann Wine Trail for our Valentine's Day celebration.  We were both really excited about the weekend, and had the car packed and the bikes ready to go - in hopes of taking a ride along the scenic Katy Trail. But, it just wasn't meant to be.  

We called the Hermanhoff Inn Saturday around noon, after an exhaustive morning of questioning whether we should go or not:  "Maybe it's just something we ate...", "We'll feel better by tomorrow probably....", "It's a two hour car ride...are you going to feel okay during a two hour car ride?" So, with heavy hearts we cancelled our stay at the cozy B&B in Hermann, got a 50% refund on our stay, and a pleasant request to come visit as soon as we were feeling better. Why does it always seem that when you have time off - long weekends and holidays - you always seem to get a heinous cold or some 24-48 hour malady that runs its course and has you back and ready to go for work on Tuesday, but kills your plans for Monday?  That's life, I suppose.

So we spent the weekend at home: cleaning and re-cleaning the bedsheets, disinfecting bathrooms and all surfaces that came in contact with our hands or Kleenexes alike, and lazing about. By Monday we were feeling much better.  Matt worked on a paper for school, and I signed up for online cooking classes through America's Test Kitchen Cooking School. Something I'm greatly looking forward to blogging about in the coming weeks!

Today, feeling fully recovered, I hit the gym and then drove up to Crocker - a little village only about 15 miles away - to visit a volunteer-run animal shelter affiliated with the Pulaski County Humane Society.  Since I still have not heard back from the women's shelter about training or support programs (every time I call the shelter manager she tells me: "I've got your application.  I just need to finalize some things with the court, but I'll get back with you..."), I decided that I would start looking for other volunteer opportunities.  I found an absolutely wonderful organization called the Loving Paws Adoption Center, and I begin my volunteer-career tomorrow morning!  I'm going to do two days at the shelter each week (Wednesday and Thursday mornings), as well as some Sunday afternoons. 

So, despite the setback of the weekend, it's been a good Monday and Tuesday. I have more things to do, more things to see, and more to share. Needless to say, I'm motivated and excited about it all! Stay tuned...who knows what's to come...

Rainbows End

"Over the river, and through the woods..." Whether going to Grandma's, or anywhere in "these parts", the only way to get there follows the century's old song.  And I must say, it's not a bad way to spend a Wednesday exploring; loping over the hills, skirting along streams and trekking the trails of the Missouri countryside.

If you haven't noticed a trend by now, most of the attractions here in Pulaski County are more natural than cultural.  Not that there aren't a few museums in the county, and even a theater on the square in downtown Waynesville.  However, until I have a day where I am strictly limited by the weather or my desire to climb the hills, my expeditions will probably have me out and about in the physical arena for the next couple of Wednesdays.

Whether on the major or minor rivers of Missouri (38 total, to include large creeks on which adventure organizations offer outdoor recreation activities), the beautiful lakes (Lake of the Ozarks, Table Rock, Mark Twain, Truman Reservoir), or deep within the caverns created by the karst topography of the land, theres a reason Tom & Huck were always finding something to explore (and a way to get in trouble) here in the "Show Me" State.  So, with my trusty Nikon at my side, I ventured out yesterday to show me - and you - another beautiful site in the area: Stone Mill Spring.

Named for an old "stone and smith mill" which operated near the site in the 1860's, the site is nestled at the base of a large bluff overlooking the Big Piney River. Much like the Roubidoux Spring - which I ventured to last month - I was met by a beautiful turquoise pool of freshwater that seemed other-worldly compared to the stark mountain looming above and the snow-melt surrounding it's edges.  The algae fringed borders of the pond and its the continuing spring branch - a stocked trout stream - seemed to beckon the Spring with their verdant hues.

At the end of the quarter-mile long spring branch a weir has been emplaced to feed the Big Piney.  Measured discharges at the spring range from 11 to 34 million gallons of water each day, with an average, daily output of 19 million gallons of water recharging the surrounding 30 square miles of the Big Piney River Basin.

What's interesting about Stone Mill and its corresponding stream was that for years it was just another mountain spring in the Ozarks. However, once the federal government purchased 97 square miles of land at the northern edge of the Mark Twain National Forest in 1940, the Army acquired the spring as part of the purchase of Ft. Leonard Wood. Realizing they had gained a "local national treasure", the government turned the site into a park and recreation area for trout anglers.  Over the past half-century it has become a premier spot for anglers to catch rainbow trout in southern Missouri, and home of an annual trout fishing derby for children.

The park was beautiful and I look forward to going back sometime soon to explore the nearby trails and perhaps have a picnic lunch by the stream with the hubby.  It was a bit of a hike to get to the spot (one mile roundtrip along the river), but I enjoyed having the time to just be and take in everything around me.

Heading back out of the woods and across the river, I stopped at one last site on Ft. Leonard Wood, an old one room schoolhouse built in 1912 within a two mile hike from the spring.  I hiked along the trail behind the schoolhouse for a bit, took a few snapshots of the rushing water that was abundant everywhere yesterday - no doubt brought on by the melting snow and intense rainfall from the day prior, and then ended my day's journey at the Big Piney spillway. Taunted by a dark sky and a change in the wind that made me feel like a downpour was about to befall me, I returned home and closed the garage door as a sheet of rain plummeted from the sky.

When I walked through the door I was exhausted.  I had gone straight from a 45 minute spinning class that morning, to my hike through the woods.  My clima-tec running pants had brambles and dirt stains across the legs, my fleece was damp and turning itchy, and (although I didn't look before I quickly jumped in the shower) I'm pretty sure there were some leaves and gnats in my hair.  But I felt refreshed and rejuvenated from my hike over the river and through the woods.

As I emerged from the sauna of my bathroom - towel wrapped turban-like around my head and fuzzy bathrobe donned - I noticed the sunlight streaming in through my bedroom window.  I looked outside, and lo and behold....

...a rainbow, in my own backyard!  A fitting end to a beautiful day.

Snow Day!

Well, it finally came.  After much discussion about global warming and our unseasonably mild winter, on early Monday morning big flakes of white powder began dusting our yard and the surrounding mountains and kept falling until late Monday night.  In all we got about 3 inches here in the Ozarks.  Matt got to use our new snow shovel on the driveway - a gift from his parents at Christmas-time, and I spent a cozy day inside the house - cleaning, cooking, and catching up on some reading.

I took quite a few pictures of the snow: outside in the elements, from the deck, and looking out my kitchen window.

I kept trying to capture just how quickly it was coming down, how thick the flakes were, but - alas - I need different tools on my camera; apertures, diaphragms, stops to actually capture a torrent of minuscule flakes which are really the sum of a massive vortex.

When I wasn't trying to capture winter's majesty with my Nikon, I ran around the house with the Endust, the vacuum, and the laundry basket. I lit candles which had been neglected for the past month or so, as it seemed the perfect day to have the cozy ambience and musky fragrance wafting through the house. If we had a fireplace and a dog by the hearth as the snow fell outside of a nearby window it would have been a scene perfect for a Norman Rockwell piece; perhaps entitled "An Ozark Mountain Winter."

With all of my cleaning done, I decided to cook and do some reading.  For lunch I made a lovely salad from some leftover chicken breasts we had for dinner a couple of nights before, and also worked on making homemade ketchup to go along with the meatloaf I planned for the evening's dinner (a wonderful turkey meatloaf from Ina Garten's, "The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook"). Matt and I don't usually use the tomato-based condiment, and I had originally intended to run to the store to buy some Heinz Reduced Sugar ketchup.  However, the hubby had taken my wheels for the day (it has AWD and can get up the steep hills in an onslaught of snow), so I was left stranded on the mountain with the rear-wheel drive Mustang and my stocked refrigerator.  Luckily, I had all the essential components for making my own ketchup, and I have to say - it's a lot cheaper to do it on your own, and a lot tastier!  If you want the recipe click on the embedded link above, or look for it and other recipes under the Erica's Epicurean Creations tab at the bottom of the blog.

Matt came home to the smell of the ketchup on the stove, and the thousand candles I had lit throughout the house! Still, the onslaught to the olfactory senses was met warmly - literally - as it was so cold outside.  Matt conceded that the Mazda does very well in the snow; my argument for keeping the car - which Matt considers "a soccer-Mom mobile, for a woman who has no kids who play soccer" - in lieu of trading it in for a truck or bigger SUV.

We had our dinner, rested for a bit, and each retired to separate couches in the living room with our respective "reads" for the evening. It was a nice end to a snowy day.  If only we had that dog and a fireplace...

Three Months - 90 Days - 2,160 Hours

I love weekends because it means that I get to spend lots of time with the hubby.  Whether that time is spent exploring the wilds of Missouri together, buying lightbulbs for the house, researching gas grills, or in the confines of our living room watching an endless cycle of Downton Abbey episodes on the newly acquired AppleTV...I treasure these days.

I suppose that seems silly considering all of my days are seemingly a wide-open calendar of Saturdays and Sundays.  I also imagine that once I have children and potentially go back into the workforce, weekends will be even more of a precious commodity to Matt and I.  Still, in the burgeoning months of our newlywed-dom and increased time together, I enjoy knowing that each and every weekend I will be with my husband, and not a hundred miles away.

In that vein, Matt and I were both astonished as we realized that today marked our three month anniversary!  Barring my sojourn in Ohio, this is the first time we've seen each other nearly every day for 90 days straight since 2004!

In celebration, we had a bit of a brunch - a sampling of sandwiches, crackers, veggies, cheeses and fruit, all created by my husband and waiting for me upon my return home from church this morning.  I contributed to the soiree by bringing home some Prosecco.  We toasted to us, to the occasion of surpassing Kim Kardashian's 72 days of holy matrimony, and to the 279th anniversary of the founding of Georgia by James Oglethorpe (a fact we learned from a "This Day in History" site - which we thought interesting since we got engaged and married in the thirteenth colony).

We toasted to 90 days, 90 months, and 90 years more.  A toast we extend to all of our family and friends, knowing that time - be it days or years - is but a twinkling in the eyes of eternal love.

Get Your Kicks

Route 66: America's Main Street - Will Roger's Highway - The Mother Road.  Whatever you may call it, the historic American byway is a pop-culture reference today, but at one time was the main highway of the country. The route was originally constructed in 1926, beginning in Chicago and winding it's way some 2,448 miles through Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California, before ending in Los Angeles. In it's 30 year history the route was most formidable in being the major byway for those individuals who were forced to move westward during the Dust Bowl of the 1930's, and for hundreds of families making family vacations to the "Wild-West" and the Grand Canyon. And while people still take drives along what remains of old 66, the primary means of traveling cross-country these days are the interstates, which - effectively - killed the original U.S. Highway system, and the small towns which dotted the rural American heartland.

Indeed, the town in which we now live - Waynesville, MO - still shows vestiges of what it probably looked like in it's prime (pre-1960); old gas stations with slanted roofs and cafes with neon signs that have been left abandoned for the better part of a half century. Even though it is a quaint little village, there are some "ghost-town" effects which are tangible on the city's fringe.

But my post today isn't to bemoan the downfall of America's rural communities when Route 66 was ousted by the Interstate Highway System. It's to remember that sometimes it is better to take the road less traveled by.  That history and beauty are sometimes just a 15 minute diversion off the beaten path.

As yesterday was Wednesday - my "exploring day" - I decided that I would pick one of the historical Route 66 markers from the list of "Things to Do in Pulaski County" as my starting point for some photos of old Missouri.  So I hopped into the car with my Nikon at my side and ventured out to Devil's Elbow, a hamlet of a town, which used to be a major stopping point for wayfarers on their cross-country trek along the Mother Road.

Named for a bend in the Big Piney River where 19th century lumberjacks would notoriously have log-jams - saying that the Devil himself must have thrown a boulder at the bend, just to cause them grief - the town hasn't changed much since it's birth in the 1870's.  Aside from a small market - which doubles as a Post Office, an old, run-down house which used to be the town's inn, and a watering hole for weary travelers, only a smattering of houses remain in the little village.  Still, the houses are quaint and the lawns well-tended in this community that seems to move as lazily as the river on which it was settled. It almost reminded me of Walton's Mountain.

Just a quarter-mile from the village, up Teardrop Road (the name of Route 66 as it winds along the Big Piney), is the river's elbow.  Right before the bend stands a beautiful, wooden railroad trestle bridge, which is no longer in use, but has been preserved and made a national historic landmark.  Built in 1941, the bridge has no specific name, but did have a specific use - to bring building supplies to a new, small army base located in the Mark Twain National Forest, to be called Fort Leonard Wood.

My drive along Route 66 yesterday gave me time to reflect on our American history.  It made me recall  books I once read and shows I once watched; novels and programs which hearkened back to the mid-20th century easy way of life.  Some would call those times idyllic, and in a way that's kind of how I felt as I drove off Route 66 and back onto I-44; leaving the past - literally - behind me.  Times change, things evolve, and everything keeps moving forward, but it's good to remember the past and visit her every now and then. She reminds us of who we are, and how far we've come.

References:
The Road Wanderer
Visit Missouri
Wiki - 66