How to Fold a Fitted Sheet … Me vs. Martha!

At my former company, one of our wonderful employees - on his own time - took Martha Stewart's "30 Things Everyone Should Know" list, printed out each tip in full-color, and placed it in a binder. He made one for each of us in the department.

The other day, while searching for a book, I spotted that binder sitting on the bookshelf. Flipping through it, Tip #21 caught my eye - "How To Make A Bed." "Hmmm," I thought, "I wonder if there is a tip on how to fold a fitted sheet."

There wasn't ... but, there was a note at the bottom of the "How To Make A Bed" page, that referred the reader to MarthaStewart.com for tips on "How To Fold A Fitted Sheet."

Brilliant! I navigated my way to her website to discover what I had been doing wrong for all these years.

The following is a step-by-step breakdown of her tips versus my own process:

Martha: Stand holding the sheet by the two adjacent corners of one of the shorter edges. With the sheet inside out, place one hand in each of these two corners.

Me: Roll your eyes and sigh deeply and loudly … because you dread this task. Then, grab two outer corners of the sheet … whichever you can find first.

Martha: Bring your right hand to your left, and fold the corner in your right hand over the one in your left, enveloping it. Next, reach down and pick up the corner that is hanging in front; bring it up, and fold it over the two corners in your left hand; the corner that's showing will be inside out.

Me: Bring your two corners together and secure them with your right hand while your left hand grabs the folded side. Shake vigorously to attempt to straighten out the remainder of the sheet that is now dragging on the floor picking up whatever you just washed off of it. Mutter something about how much you despise this task.

Martha: Bring the last corner up, and fold it over the others; with its right side showing, it should envelop the other three corners.

Me: Toss the whole thing up into the air gently and catch it smack dab in the middle; remove the fitted corner which landed on your head and is now covering your face; proceed to fold it in half, if possible.

Martha: Lay the folded sheet on a flat surface and straighten it into the shape shown.

Me: Realize there is something small caught in one of the corners. Unfold the entire sheet. Remove a damp, wadded, wrinkled pillow case from the corner. Start folding process from the beginning.

Martha: Fold the two edges in so all the elastic is hidden.

Me: Stuff ... I mean, tuck in the edges, attempting to hide the elastic.

Martha: Fold the sheet into a rectangle.

Me: Think of the song “Rolling on the River” and use that hand motion to ‘roll’ the sheet up into an oddly-shaped version of a rectangle.

Martha: Continue folding until the rectangle is the size you want it to be.

Me: After you’re done ‘rolling’, fold it in half one more time and smooth it vigorously to make it appear less voluminous and wrinkled.

Me: Place under the flat sheet, so only one edge of the fitted sheet shows when viewed from the already-cramped linen closet. This will give the appearance that it has been folded correctly.

Martha’s directions (and accompanying pictures) can be found on MarthaStewart.com from the October 1997 issue of Martha Stewart Living.

Clearly, you don't want any more of my directions on this particular subject!

Happiness Is ...

A 4-year old daughter who takes notice of the pink and purple hues in the sky as the sun sets ... and is excited to point them out to me.

A 7-year old son who - upon noticing that we have just run out of Halloween candy after passing out 160 pieces to 160 adorably-dressed trick-or-treaters and we still have 10 kids left standing at our doorstep - runs over to his own, freshly-collected Halloween stash, grabs 10 pieces of sweets, and proceeds to hand them out to the kids waiting in anticipation on our porch.

And, the following two songs (and videos) ...

I dare you to sit still while listening to this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoaTl7IcFs8

I dare you not to smile during this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3TTAUv-FM3I

Snagging a book contract would also fit into this list quite nicely. But ... that will have to wait for another day! Something to look forward to, I guess! :-)

Have a happy one!

The A's of Autumn: Apple Cider and Awesome Awards!

OK ... awards first, then apples!

I recently received three awards from three absolutely, positively fabulous ladies whose blogs I adore!

Thank you to Sharon McPherson at Bookish Blonde for awarding me The Lemonade Stand Award! This award recognizes sites that show great attitude and/or gratitude. I am proud to be a recipient of this award.

And, thank you to both Lynnette Labelle at Chatterbox Chit Chat and Stephanie Faris at Steph in the City for awarding me the Heartfelt Award. Do you reach for a cup of cocoa or tea when you're relaxing, seeking comfort, sharing a plate of cookies with family and friends? You know the feeling you get when you drink a yummy cup of cocoa, tea, or a hot toddy? That is what the Heartfelt Award is all about, feeling warm inside. This one is often symbolized by a picture of a sweet little mouse in a teacup ... but, I thought the vivid red hearts on the black dandelion-like sketch was just too cool to pass up (apparently, this was created for any guys receiving the award who weren't interested in the whole 'cute mouse in teacup' kind of look!).

On to apple cider!

My normal Tuesday posting was preempted by a trip to the Pumpkin Patch with my son's class.

The skies were supposed to dump rain, thunder, and lightening across the region on Tuesday. It rained the night before, it rained the morning of, it rained as we drove to the pumpkin patch. And, then ... as we arrived ... the sun came out. And - with the exception of about three minutes of sprinkles - it was sunny and dry during our entire three hours at the Pumpkin Patch. It then rained on the drive back, and continued to pour for the remainder of the day. A-MA-ZING!

My favorite part was learning how Bauman Farms makes their oh-so-delicious apple cider. Here is the process in pictures:

Washing the apples, thank you very much:

Grinding them into a pile of mush (umm ... yuck!) within seconds:

Pressing out all the sweet juice:

Here comes the final product:

I love to see the behind-the-scenes workings of products like this. And, the final outcome was like drinking an apple pie (without all the extra sugar and butter!).

Happy Autumn!

I Do Not Like That Funky Dance

We noticed it when she was quite young ... an adorable ability to feel the rhythm of music.

At 18 months old, a quick glance in the rear view mirror often revealed a little head full of wispy curls bopping along to the exact beat of whatever song was playing on the radio.

Soon, her upper body joined in as her shoulders rocked to songs blaring through overhead store speakers, even as she sat, strapped securely to the shopping cart.

When riding along in shopping carts was no longer an acceptable mode of transportation, the full body jive came into play. It was subtle. She wasn't twirling in the aisles. She was just moving with the beat - from head to toe - as she walked.

This past weekend, we were in the produce section of our local grocery store. A very disco-esque song was filling the area with a lively groove and - as we would expect - the little girl walking just ahead of us started feeling it.

The beat took over her body ... legs, knees, hips, shoulders, head, and arms all coming together as she strutted to the beat in and amongst the pears and potatoes.

My husband could see that our son was feeling it too, so he attempted to give them a quick lesson in disco. "Hey ... do this!" he encouraged, as he reenacted a mini-version of the famed Travolta move involving the index finger pointing up in the air, then moving down and across the body to point at the floor.

Our son thought it was hilarious. Our daughter, however, stopped - mid-strut - and with a very serious tone looked straight up at my husband and said, "I do not like that funky dance."

She then turned and continued bopping her way down an aisle of lemons and limes.

Earlier this month, our daughter turned four with a Hello Kitty extravaganza of a party. The age of four, we are learning, brings with it loads of love, even more hugs and kisses, an enormous amount of spunk, imaginative stories, major meltdowns, serious opinions, a bit more independence, and hilarious moments. Moments that I can't wait to write down before I forget exactly what was said, so I can re-live them whenever I need to inject a smile or laughter into my day.

Hope your day is filled with wonderful moments!

This Book Is Doing Its Job!

It's a tricky thing ... keeping boys engaged in, challenged, and excited by reading as they get older and start moving away from the realm of typical picture books.

I've written along these lines before ... earlier this year in my post "Boy + Reading ...". And, recently, author PJ Hoover wrote about the subject in her post "Why Boys Aren't Reading".

For our 7-year old reader, the challenge is in finding books that have the unique ability to help him grow as a reader, but also appeal to his interests and his enjoyment of pictures and illustrations.

Just the right combination of the above equals a much less frustrated little man and a more willing and eager reader.

While he very much enjoys action/adventure and animal-related stories, his true love continues to be anything under the category of Transportation. From rescue vehicles to race cars to semi-trailers to construction machines, he is completely and utterly enamored.

This weekend, he told us that he wanted to buy another vehicle book, and he agreed to do so with his own spending money.

So, after a patience-teaching wait of three days from the time he first started chatting us up about it, we headed to Barnes & Noble. We found the section that included all the vehicle-related books within his age range, and told him to look through the books and decide which one he wanted to purchase.

In the midst of helping little sister pick out a book (because, of course, she had to bring her spending money too!), we looked back to find our son sitting on the floor, surrounded by four open books, pouring over each of them, intently trying to decide which he would be taking home. What a wonderful sight!

He settled on the above-pictured Big Book of Construction Machines, created by Parachute Press and published by the fabulous DK Publishing, Inc. The book has an age range of 7-10 years of age, which means it is perfect for helping him progress in his reading. But, the most wonderful thing is that he can't put it down. He reads it in the car and during moments of downtime; he reads it for school-required reading time; he reads it with his nighttime book-light after we've tucked him in to bed; and, today, he took it to school to show his teacher and friends.

Now that is a book that is doing its job!

Words Optional

If my count is correct, this magnificent children's picture book has exactly 28 words. Twenty-eight!

Not 1,300 ... not 1,000 ... not even 852 ... but, twenty-eight very effective words.

The illustrations carry the story and delight the reader. The talented Nancy Tafuri, who wrote and illustrated this gem, was so very clever when she crafted this Caldecott Honor and ALA Notable Book.

From the words, we know it takes place early in the morning, and that the mother duck is trying to find her missing duckling.

With each turn of the page, the child reader gets to search and point out where the little missing duckling is hiding. It has been tested repeatedly in our house, and consistently results in delightful giggles when the wayward duckling is spotted.

Oh, how I wish I could create such gorgeous pictures. This book is proof that illustrations can truly tell a wonderful story and, sometimes, words are optional.

The Candy Man

The first time I met Sam, I was in the midst of my strength training routine. As I strained and sweated to lift the weights just a few more times, he came around the corner and – extending an old-fashioned doctor’s bag toward me – said brightly, “Would you like a piece of candy?”

I stopped what I was doing and peered into the open pouch on the side of his bag to find a multihued assortment of hard candies. I smiled and asked, "Are there butterscotch discs in there?”

“Oh, yes … I’ve got those,” he said with confidence as he dug his hand into the bag and plucked out a golden disc.

“Thank you!” I said, with the giddiness of a child surveying her haul on Halloween night.

He turned to leave, then stopped and glanced at the weights I was using, “You know those come in lighter versions.”

I laughed.

I soon learned his very appropriate nickname - Sam the Candy Man. I also learned what a treat it is to watch him work the room of fellow ‘Silver Sneakers’ exercise classmates, offering them candy and bringing joy to their faces.

Outgoing and jovial, his response to the question “How are you, Sam?” is – with 99.9 percent certainty – always a hearty “Super Darn Whoppin’!” And, as if he has planned it because he knows I love them, there is always a butterscotch disc sitting atop the array of sweets when he extends his bag to me.

I do realize there are a couple rules being broken with this story. The first time I was approached by Sam, I did – in fact – take candy from a stranger. The very opposite of the rule we drill into our children’s brains.

Second, the candy is being distributed and accepted at a fitness club where, it seems, most people would be working to thwart the effects of such sweet temptations.

But, these broken rules are countered by the simple happiness and feeling of camaraderie his smile, his kind greeting, and his sharing of a small piece of candy bring to my day.

Today, Sam was wearing a shirt with the caption “SAM-tastic!” splashed across the front. I wholeheartedly agree. And, to that I would add “Sweet”.

I Wish I'd Thought of That!

Clever, that Jon J. Muth. I'll admit, I have yet to read the Caldecott Honor-winning Zen Shorts, which came before Zen Ties. But, I suspect it's just as brilliant.

Mr. Muth subtly introduces young children to haiku in this engaging tale. The main character, Stillwater (a rather large talking panda) has a nephew named, Koo. When he meets him at the train station, he says (you can all say it with me if you see where this is going!), "Hi, Koo!" So, so clever. And, Koo only speaks in haiku ... yep, he's got 17 syllables to say his peace. And, I have to say ... he is very artful with those 17 syllables!

Not all may agree with me, given that there is a lot of dialogue in this children's book ... but, I tend to write that way too, and love how well the dialogue works in this book.

Not only does it introduce the concept of haiku in such a clever way, but it has a beautiful message of compassion and respect ... without being overtly didactic.

And the watercolor illustrations ... well, they are simply mesmerizing. Vivid, yet sweet, with a nostalgic feel. They captivated and entertained my almost-4-year old even while I was explaining the Hi Koo / haiku wordplay to her! :-)

I highly recommend Zen Ties ... and am now looking forward to reading Zen Shorts!

A Picture in Perseverance

per⋅se⋅ver⋅ance  [pur-suh-veer-uhns]
–noun
1.steady persistence in a course of action, a purpose, a state, etc., esp. in spite of difficulties, obstacles, or discouragement.
2.Theology - continuance in a state of grace to the end, leading to eternal salvation.

Perseverance has, in many ways, become my personal motto. When people ask me how things are progressing with regard to my writing career and what it is like compared to what I used to do in the corporate world, I often respond that I have been learning the art of perseverance and patience.

Not long ago, I wrote about some significant changes that took place in the green space behind our house and backyard. In order to add power lines, the electric company first had to eliminate all the blackberries, bushes, and wild plants; then, piece by piece, they took down two incredibly large maple trees.

After the hard labor was complete, what remained was trampled ground, primarily consisting of wood chips.

But, two weeks ago, I was standing at the kitchen sink when a burst of color caught my eye. Just beyond our fence, a beautiful, bright sunflower had bloomed amidst the wreckage.

Now that's perseverance, I thought. It's not the grandest of sunflowers, but it survived nonetheless and blossomed at just the right time.

A great reminder for me that - with hard work and perseverance - good things will bloom.

Herman ... A Fish Tale

Last week, hubby and I took the kids to the stunning Bonneville Fish Hatchery in the equally-impressive Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area.

Before actually going there, I would have never guessed I would be referring to a fish hatchery as 'stunning'. But, it is. The grounds are simply gorgeous. I walked around clicking pictures and commenting continuously on how beautiful everything looked.

The main attraction, however, is not the landscaping. It is Herman the Sturgeon. I couldn't help but think how perfect a character Herman would be for a children's picture book.

While myths abound, the true facts about Herman are limited in number, but staggering to the mind:

1. Herman the Sturgeon is over 10 feet long.
2. He weighs in at over 450 pounds.
3. He is over 70 years old.

My son and daughter thought he was a riot. As he nonchalantly swam by, my son waved; while my daughter excitedly showed him her Pet Shop pups ... ya know, just in case he was in to that kind of thing.

As for me ... I'm still wondering about the picture book possibility. Looks like I've got some research in my future!

Happy writing!

The Kindness of Strangers - Part 2

** Story continued from previous post **

My bike pack didn’t fit correctly on the new bike, so I rigged it as best I could to the front frame and set off.

It was exhilarating. The towering pines. The still-cool, fresh air. I had been biking for only 10 minutes, not realizing that my bike pack was working its way loose from the frame.

Without warning, the pavement was approaching at warp speed. I put both hands out to meet it, attempting to break the fall and protect my head. Seconds later, I was flat on the ground, the bicycle partially perched on top of me.

I attempted to get a sense of what had happened. The bike pack was lying on the ground under the front wheel. It had fallen into the front spokes as I whizzed down the path, stopping the bike in an instant and hurtling me to the ground.

A man and his son biked by slowly. The young boy looked concerned and I heard him quietly ask his dad if I was okay. “Are you alright?” the father asked.

“Sure, yes … I’ll be fine,” I automatically responded.

I caught him glancing back at me, apparently not convinced. But, he continued on.

There was a hole in my favorite Nike workout jacket. And, the pavement had clearly won the fight in multiple places along my arms and hands.

I picked up the bike pack, then the bike – it had apparently escaped injury by landing on me. Something wasn’t right. I noticed a horrible pain searing through my wrist and up my arm as I lifted the bike. I put it back down, and attempted to lift it with the other hand. Same result.

I attempted to stay calm, but couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that I had, apparently, injured both of my arms in the fall, was bleeding, and still needed to get home.

No problem. A few turns and I would be back to the house in no time.

The homes of Sun River are laid out in a repeated Circle 8 kind of design. You can easily end up looping around the same neighborhood if you don’t know exactly where to turn. But, I knew where I was going. I wasn’t terribly worried.

Until I realized that I was looping around the same neighborhood … unfortunately not the one occupied by the house I was staying in.

By this time, I wasn’t feeling well. I was steering with the hand and arm that hurt the least. The other, which I couldn’t move at all, was holding the wretched bike pack.

I was feeling light-headed. I noticed two men, maybe 7 houses ahead of me, on their bikes. It looked like they were slowing down, heading for one of the houses at the end of the cul-de-sac.

I stashed away my pride, prayed that they weren’t crazed lunatics, and yelled, “Help … please!”

It came out as a squeak.

I yelled again and kept pedaling. Still not loud enough.

I yelled a third time. They had heard me. They got off their bikes and came toward me. “Are you hurt?” one of them asked, an obvious look of concern on his face as his eyes quickly scanned over torn clothing and bloody patches of skin.

The other simply said, “You need to get to a doctor. Are you staying around here?”

They placed my bike in the trunk of their car as I told them the address. Within a few minutes, we were there. Unfortunately, my friend and her aunt were not.

They decided to try the small, local medical office in Sun River. Our shoulders slumped as we read a sign taped to the door, explaining that the office was closed for Memorial Day weekend. They offered to take me to the hospital in Bend.

I convinced them that my friend and her aunt would be returning from their walk soon. An 8-month pregnant woman couldn’t get too terribly far!

Sure enough, as we drove up the driveway, they walked up to the house – looks of question and concern plastered across their faces as they watched me exit this unfamiliar car as the bike was removed from the trunk.

I shared a measly, but heartfelt, “Thank you so very much” with these two men who had been so kind, so concerned for the well-being of a complete stranger. Did they miss out on exciting plans while shuttling me around? Hard to say … they never uttered one word about their missed opportunities, only words of concern that I find the care I needed.

My friend and her aunt drove me to the hospital in Bend; then proceeded to spend their precious vacation time waiting with me in the emergency room. It was a long day of x-rays and exams, and my very pregnant friend endured hard plastic chairs as she waited. She uttered not a single word of complaint (though, I’m certain she was dreaming of the oh-so-soft and supportive chairs she could be sitting in back at the house!). She helped me with hospital paperwork (my wrists/hands were useless!) and – upon arriving at home – even washed and dried my hair (again with the useless hands).

In the weeks that followed, my husband got to experience washing and drying my hair while my wrists healed to the point of being usable again. I remember no words of complaint from him either (though I do remember a few complaints being uttered by yours truly about hair styling … poor guy!).

An unfortunate turn of events became a personal experience in true kindheartedness, with no strings attached … from strangers, from friends, from family. And for that, I am thankful.

The Kindness of Strangers - Part I

It was early. Dewdrops balanced atop the grass blades, sparkling in the morning sun that would soon be heating up the aptly-named resort town.

“Are you going biking today?” my husband asked, as he quickly took a final inventory of his fishing gear. He and a friend, whom we were vacationing with, were embarking on a remote fly-fishing trip along the Deschutes River. They would be out-of-range and unreachable all day.

“Yes!” I could hardly wait. I was a fairly avid biker and was thrilled to be taking advantage of the 35 miles of paved biking trails weaving in and through Sun River, some of it along the Deschutes.

My dear friend was 8 months pregnant. We were staying in her aunt’s stunning vacation home. They had a relaxing walk planned for their morning.

I grabbed a bottle of water, stuffed my I.D., some cash, and a snack into my small bike pack, and attached them to my bike’s front frame. I was off!

Or, maybe not. I had a flat tire. I pumped it. It immediately went flat. It was the inner tube. Dejected, I returned to the house.

“No problem,” said my friend’s aunt, “just take my bike!”

I was both excited and hesitant to ride her gleaming, new bike. Really, though, why was I worrying? I had never been in a bike accident before.

Odd, the power of suggestion. Not that it was even a suggestion, really. More like a passing thought.

To be continued ...

Dreaming ...

This is another of my favorite pictures from our recent beach trip. Do you see what's happening here? My two little people - faces plastered against the window, mouths salivating - as they watch the good folks from Bruce's Candy Kitchen make their tasty creations and dream that - somehow, someway - they'll either be offered a tasty treat or their parents will decide to go inside and make a purchase! What a riot!

It's quite similar to how many of us feel, I'm sure ... though I can only speak for myself. Maybe it comes in the form of an announcement that a publisher is now seeking and accepting the exact type of work you create. The butterflies start rumbling about your tummy, your excitement starts to build as you dare to imagine the possibility of getting your work published. You can hardly wait to get your manuscript into their hands.

I'm quite certain that if any of the publishers I submitted manuscripts to lived within a 100-mile radius of my town and had a window where I could watch them work through their slush pile ... I'd be standing at that very window, in a fashion quite similar to my children in the above picture. Nose smooshed against the glass; mouth salivating at the possibility of my work getting chosen!

Impossible concept, I know ... those piles of 'to be read' are never going to be open to public viewing ... but, fun to dream about nonetheless!

Have a great week of writing ... and dreaming!

The Bella Sinclair Award

Thank you, thank you to the ever-so-talented, thoughtful, and always kind Sherry Rogers, of Sherry Rogers Illustrations for treating me to the Bella Sinclair Award! Sherry, herself, epitomizes this award!!

I am a huge fan of Sherry ... she is the talented illustrator of numerous children's picture books (many through awesome publisher Sylvan Dell), she can grow tomatoes like nobody's business, and she always has encouraging words to share!

You can read about the history of this award on Ces's blog. It was created by Ces in honor of her friend, Bella Sinclair. Here is what Ces says about the award:

"I designed this award to celebrate art in the blogs and to honor the value of friendship, sisterhood, sharing and caring. It is to be awarded to the gifted, accomplished, eloquent and talented blogger whose friendship and influence inspire us to do our best. That I named it after Bella Sinclair is because she epitomizes all of these things. She is an inspiration to many of us."

I am passing the award along to Serenity, of Serenity Now (such a fun title ... I can't help but think of Seinfeld every time I visit her blog!). Serenity was one of my very first followers ... before I knew it was even possible to have followers! She encouraged me, from the beginning, as a blogger and a writer. Through our posts, we discovered numerous similarities ... it was like finding a kindred spirit in the blogosphere! And, her blog/website is always filled with thought-provoking, insightful, and humorous posts!