To the Schelles!

Our Family Tree, designed and made by Ron Schelle.

On Saturday, September 5, 2026, the Schelle cousins gathered in Breda, Iowa, at the Legion Hall (post 607) on Main St. Extra bathrooms have been added over the years, still rustic as in my memory. I’ve been there often for weddings, funerals, and graduations, but it had been years since the last time.

The occasion was an annual reunion around the arrival of Ron and Pat Schelle’s family, visiting from North Carolina. It’s planned to be annual, although for the 2 years prior to 2026, it didn’t happen, for various reasons. Ron is the youngest brother of my mom, Jean Schelle.

The Schelle farm home is a couple of miles west of Breda, where the 8 children grew up. This day was a potluck, with catered in hamburgers and hotdogs from Red’s Place, a few doors away.

My contribution to the lunch was canned shoestring potatoes, the kind that I remember Grandma Schelle bringing to blanket picnics in the park.

Not the same brand as in my past, but they taste the same. Happy I could find them!

About 70 attendees came-first cousins, spouses, and their children. Organizers were thrilled with the turnout as only 3 first cousins could not come.

Here’s a synopsis of people there, in order of appearance, with my one word or short phrase impressions:

The 2 hour road trip getting there with my brother, Ed, (Eddie to everyone else that day, haha) and sis-in-law, Linda-entertaining!

Julie, dark haired and beautiful, greeting us outside.

Mark K., “Hi Shirley”, quietly.

Marilyn, BIG hug, “I’m OK.” she says. Oh Marilyn, you do have the stories: living in a haunted house, husband in hospice, saying “All I want to know is, am I going up, or am I going down?”, priest, cleaning, sins forgiven by personal wish.

Donnie (Madonna Goecke Koster, Mom’s cousin) looking not a day over 80, and acting as spry as ever, “Hi. Oh Shirley, I just had my 95th birthday and renewed my driver’s license for 2 years. I drove in from Carroll. Three of my children and my husband have passed away.”

Karen, my sister, co-planner, crowd feeder of lasagna, and giggler in the kitchen.

Jim P., “How’s Dan?”

Jim K., “Who am I?”, not with words, but coming right up to my face so I could look into his eyes, challenging me. I knew right away.

Jeanine, at the ID badge table, whispering in my ear, “Last time, you told me I was magical. I heard that.” I did?

GINIA!, major organizer of this event, saying with a giant smile, when I thanked her, “I had a lot of help”.

Charlie, “After retiring, I bought a pickup truck that I don’t need, or use.” Ha Ha, and he’s keeping it.

Uncle Ron, “People say I look like Merle and I sound like Wayne.” These are 2 of his older brothers. He is a retired metallurgist, educated at Iowa State, and a hobby genealogist for at least 50 years.

Pat, wife of Ron, with a soft smile, “Oh Jeanie, yes, I see her in you, Shirley. So much fun, and it’s all a lot. (traveling from North Carolina). Pat will forever be known as the family’s pastry chef extraordinare. She was employed as an EMT and nighttime ambulance driver for years.

Paul, son of Ron and Pat, “When I had to go the hospital, I asked if I could get a discount. Everyone there knew my mom, from her career and gifts of baked goods. They told me “No.”

Linda J., “I’m doing OK.” A recent widow, I offered my sympathy, and asked the usual question, “How are you?”. Later, she said “It used to be we, and now it’s just me.”

Joyce, “I’ve been better.” Cryptic, leaving me to wonder what was going on. Maybe she meant “I’ve been younger.” Haven’t we all?

Randy, (husband of Joyce), “We were married the same month and year as you and Dan.” August 1972.

Judy, in the kitchen, carrying a covered dish, “I’m just looking for a place to put this”, and later, “I want to go on a bus trip.”

Curt, “I brought sauerkraut for the hot dogs, and a can opener, and this little tupperware to put it in.”

Laurie, (my cousin, and wife of Curt), laughing, “I don’t want that tupperware back!”

Rob, my brother, “It’s hot, AND heavy.” in answer to my question, “Is it hot?”, as he fastwalks in the back door, with Russ Boes, both carrying big roasting pans. And later, Rob offers us pears from his backyard tree and jars of his bright green sweet pickles, and salsa (!) both made from his garden produce.

A large dish of these pickles was on the buffet table, by the ketchup and mustard.

Susie, Rob’s spouse, with a kind of subued, but happy , “Hi Shirley.” and a hug. We love Susie!

Linda T., “”That was nice.”, as a young girl gave her a random hug, making me want one also, and wonder who she was. Linda did not know. I found out later it was Charlie’s granddaughter.

Mike, whose name tag was upside down (so he could read it and know who he is, haha) with my favorite comment of the day, pleading with me, “Don’t ever stop writing! I read your blogs over and over.”

Gayle, with my second favorite comment, “My husband remembers your Miller Lite blog era.” Thanks, Rod, for reading it!

Ron again, standing by his genealogy chart, “Please update your family details with new births, and weddings. Write them on this notepad.”

Carol, Nice writing on that update list! (my comment, as I followed her, writing down some new information).

Doreen, “You have soft hands.” This surprised me!

Phyllis, “Psychology and music.”

Becky, “Bless us O Lord.”, and getting emotional, as did most of us.

Peter, Becky’s husband, Special Coffee Drinks! From their family’s Pennsylvania coffee shop.

Jim K., again, “I need a glass of milk.” as he’s eating a dessert. He and I plan a milk bar for the next time.

Diane, who brought Grandma Schelle’s round sugar cookies, and the recipe. When I asked her if she’s gotten to Midtown (my Omaha neighborhood), she said, “No. I avoid that area.” We laughed because I know why- street car construction and blocked streets.

Brenda, Diane’s daughter, standing next to her, “I have! We, my girlfriends and I, just went to the Cottonwood (restored historic hotel, former Blackstone, where the Rueben sandwich was invented).We like the pool and go every summer”. This made me happy!

Gerry, “Take a slice home to Dan, from this pie I brought.”, as he cut a large portion. Generous and thoughtful.

Well, that’s about it. I know I didn’t chat with each of you. But, you can be sure I saw you there- laughing, talking, eating, teasing and remembering and loving.

May God bless us all,

From Shirley, the shy one in the middle.

With my cousin, Joyce, Uncle Ron (Ronnie, back then), and unknown cat. Traveling with our parents and grandparents. Middle 1950’s.

The Sneaky Art of Selling Beer

Dad’s retirement cake, “America’s Classic Premium Beer Salesman”. Fudgy Chocolate recipe, found in my 1978 book, CREATIVE CAKES, by Stephanie Crookston.

My dad, Leny Thelen, enjoyed his life of selling beer very much. He retired in 1994, at age 62. I wonder if the heavy lifting of kegs and other duties came to be too much. He loved the social part, cracking a smile often, as he interacted with the bar owners on his route, and later, as he told us the stories.

He was a farmer, near Breda, Iowa, when the lure of a job in Carroll appeared. Farner-Bocken thought he would make an excellent beer salesman. The brand was Hamm’s, and only Hamm’s. No other brand was allowed to be brought into our house, or even spoken of. That loyalty and focus won him success.

My brother, Ed, remembers him saying, “There are only 2 beers: Hamm’s and Root Beer.”

Ed, getting to go to work at the Farner-Bocken warehouse.

My brothers, from left, Ed and Marty, wearing their own Hamm’s uniform shirts, made by Mom.

Of course, later on, beers such as Pabst Blue Ribbon and Millers Brewing Co. became part of Farner-Bocken’s sales offerings.

Undated photo. Early time of selling beer. Why the Falstaff? A joke, maybe?

A photo from early in his career, mid 1960’s I’d guess. When I look at this photo, I see a happy man. I also see the missing tooth that embarassed him (it was shot out from a BB gun fired by his older brother, Merlin, in childhood). I see the nametag, which appears to have Lenie Thelen embroidered on it, not Leny, as he went by later.

And, I see the strong hands (some would say chubby, ha ha) that took care of things, and us.

And what is this?! Clear as day, a Falstaff glass. When I showed this to my husband, Dan, he had an explanation. He knew from “egg runs” (drives to the country for fresh eggs, and a few stops along the way), that Dad liked to drink beer out of a glass, especially a Pilsner glass, pouring it from the bottle. (I didn’t know that. How genteel, haha). He thinks maybe it was the only glass that Whip had.

Just for fun, I googled Whip’s Place. It was a small local cafe and bar in Ricketts, IA (Crawford County), during the mid-20th Century, operated by Laura and “Whip” Langholdt.

This summer, I heard a story from my sister, Karen, that made us laugh! She and her husband, Jim, are active in the Merchants Baseball world in Carroll, IA, and even host ball players for the summer.

She found out that another baseball family host, Tom Goetzinger, (“Goldie”), had worked with Dad. Goldie said that Dad went into Don’s Place in Carroll to get Don (Gute) to order some of the new Miller Lite.

Don said, no, his patrons would never go for it. This was around 1975.

According to my research, Miller Lite premiered nationally in 1975. It was viewed as a women’s “diet” drink. In order for it to be a winner in the marketplace, that idea had to be eliminated. Women drank less beer. To boost sales, the campaign aimed at working class men and sports loving men.

Its tagline of “Tastes Great, Less Filling” would help customers see its value. Celebrity endorsements also made it popular (think Rodney Dangerfield’s hilarious ads).

When Don said, “No” to Lite beer, Dad had an idea. He went back to the warehouse and talked to the men there. He knew they all went out for a beer after work. He asked them to go to Don’s Place, and each order a Miller Lite.

When the time came, Dad was sitting at the bar. They all came in and sat at the round table. One by one, they ordered Miller Lite. Don just looked at Dad and shook his head. I’m sure a few choice words and laughter occurred!

He ended up ordering 5 cases to give it a go. So, with a little help from Dad, the launch was on!

Mid 1970’s delivery truck, found online.

Dad, after retirement (1994). Photo dated by my brother, Tony, who noticed the watch, and the suspenders.

Our family party tray, purchased in 2010, at an Okoboji antique store.

Now, go have a cold one, a Miller Lite, of course!

Shirley

A Boy and his Boat

As our boats move away to winter storage, my thoughts are moving to another time in our life pre-boats.

Our oldest son, Bryan, bought a fishing boat. It was the year 2000, he told me today when I asked about this picture. He remembered because it was before Clara, his first child, who was born in 2002.

He came to show us, pulling into our driveway.

His father had an opinion. It was too soon to splurge on a boat!

Now, Bryan was in his mid-20’s, out of high school, and college, recently married, with a full time job (both he and his spouse). They were buying a little house in midtown Omaha, and re-paying school loans. It almost made sense that this was not the right time.

However, fishing is a passion he inherited from his Grandpa Leny (my dad) and Thelen uncles.

Dan did not understand. He just didn’t grow up fishing. He enjoyed other recreational activities.

They had words, as fathers and sons do, but a father’s wisdom is no match for a fisherman’s zeal.

At one point, Bryan said, (half joking?), “Fine! Then I won’t give you a ride in it!”

That’s about the time I wanted a picture, and asked him to hop up into the boat. I was proud of him asserting his independence (as I am of all our children).

In a way, he was living out our family motto, “Don’t be a Scaredy Cat”.

Years later, Dan and I thought it appropriate to name our speedboat after it. It’s a gentle reminder to take it easy in the wild lake traffic. One family member (the only one to take an official course in driving a boat) ignores that-she likes to go FAST!

If you laughed at our motto, you might laugh harder at this photo, (taken by Amy Farha Neary): grandkids acting out with dismay at the marina’s misspelled paint job (it was re-done), or faking the role of true scaredy cats.

An update to this story: Amy told me that after she graduated from Pharmacy school, she told Bryan to get a different car. He was driving his dad’s old red Honda. Instead, he came back with this boat that could only be pulled by Amy’s car!

Boldly going forth,

Shirley

On Caring for Mom in Hospice

It’s been more than 10 years since this episode in our lives. I’ve been thinking about another little story from that time that I can not write about now because I don’t have all of the facts. While looking for that story, I found this one.

I feel that time’s poignancy often, as both Mom and Marty have passed away (Mom in March, 2014 and Marty in Oct, 2014).

Here’s what I wrote on 3-29-2014:

I woke up this morning thinking about our last days with Mom, in our family home in Carroll, IA.

Specifically, I was thinking about my brother, Marty, reading out loud to her from a children’s book. He had randomly picked it up from a stack of books in his basement. It was about a mouse family in a garden setting, which made us adult children laugh.

He held her hand, and caressed it sofly while he read. It was so comforting to us to walk by and see him and hear him doing that. It was also nice to go in and sit in a folding chair by him for a few minutes while he read.

My younger brother Marty was going through his own cancer treatments. He knew this was serious. However, he always had a way of lifting us up with humor and lighthearted topics.

Then, I was doing dishes and singing softly to myself “Who’s the one who tied your shoes when you were young and knew just when to come and see what you had done? Mama, oh Mama.”

Singing and BJ Thomas always soothes me.

Shirley

On Cooking With Dan

Christmas Eve, 1987. Dad (Leny) having fun, helping Dan cook. 55th St. house, Omaha.

Making an Italian sausage/chunky vegetables (onion, tomato, red pepper, mushroom) spaghetti sauce sounded fun and delicious. Add a side of steamed fresh green beans and it would be perfect!

I cleaned and trimmed all veggies and got out the steamer to cook the green beans first. Dan does not like them crisp! I must give them plenty of cooking time. I like them all ways-raw to mushy canned.

Dan offers to help, especially after he sees that I’ve put in only half the meat.

“Didn’t you get 2 kinds of meat?” he asks.

“Yes”, I say, “but with all of these veggies I didn’t think we needed it. What do you think?”

“Well, I like a meaty sauce.” So, I add the lean ground beef.

Then, I want to add the mushrooms, and maybe chunks of fresh garlic. Dan says that’s OK; he can pick them out.

Instead, I decide to do a separate saute of mushrooms and garlic in olive oil on a back burner.

The water is boiling. I put the spaghetti in and set the timer for 9 minutes, because Dan is watching me and that’s what he likes to do. I usually boil it for 2 minutes, shut off the heat, and put a lid on it to finish cooking in the reserved heat.

Anyhow, Dan has taken over the sauce. He puts in one small jar of Ragu original and one can of diced tomatoes. Perfect. The meats are browned and drained, vegetable chunks are smallish, so they’ll cook well enough in with the meats.

Then, I notice the green beans are not steaming! It’s plugged in, but not switched to “On”. I complain a lot, and then just decide to fast boil them on the stove. Cooking with gas is fast.

It’s time to drain the pasta. I’m looking for hot pads; Dan has them. He tries to get them to me, and loses his sauce filled cooking spoon which splashes on the countertop, cupboard and floor. He cleans that up.

I’ve warmed 2 of our blue stoneware plates (“Arrowstone”, wedding gift, 1972) on the upper stove shelf, which is designed for this (I thought), with the red warming light shining on them.

Now, do we put the pasta in the sauce (as Dan likes), or keep pasta separate, and cover with sauce on plate, (as I like)? Plus, I basically have a different sauce in mind for me, so it has to be separate.

I say, “Put half of your sauce in with my sauted mushrooms and garlic. Then, let me take some plain cooked spaghetti. I’ll put that on my plate, and cover it with my sauce. You can pour your sauce over the rest of the pasta and mix it in.”

The only problem is, I have my stoneware plate filled with my yummy version, tender green beans on the side, and I feel a crack in the plate! I have to transfer it to another plate and it all gets mixed up anyhow.

Dan gets his heated stoneware plate and feels a crack in it also! Did the red heating light cause this? Or, have they been cracked all along? We use them often.

Placeholder plates, labeled, so I can still look at a nice tall stack of plates.

1972 Arrowstone dinnerware, on our open kitchen shelves (cracked plates on the bottom, on top of the platter).

Finally, we take our dinner to the couch because we want to eat there, maybe watch Netflix. But, we have to sign in again; the Internet connection is lost. This is all too much bother. Our food will get cold. So we find something fun and mindless, like “Fixer Upper”, and enjoy our home cooked meal.

Note: This story is from my files, first scribbled out on January 12, 2017. Hard to believe it’s been 7 years! The cooking and compromising continues. I now let Dan cook it completely his way. If he wants to shop for the ingredients, and wants to cook, he’s on!

Another “Cooking with Dan” scene, making “Ugly Dip”, a favorite creation, 2015.

Yours in hearty eating,

Shirley

On Sunday Mornings

The other day, my daughter-in-law passed on to me a prayer that her grandpa had just sent to her. It was the Prayer of St. Francis that begins with “Make me a channel of your peace.”

I immediately started singing it in my head. This whole prayer was put to music in 1967 by a South African songwriter, Sebastian Temple. We sang it at high school masses, and it was part of our wedding music in 1972.

My favorite version.

I thanked her, and said that it would be my daily prayer reflection. It got me to thinking about faith, family and Sundays. This near 80 year old California grandpa had sent it to a 41 year old Denver mom, who sent it on to me, a 71 year old Omahan.

In this mix, is a 20 year old daughter, a college sophomore who posts weekly from her church in Colorado a simple, joyous greeting, like “May the Lord be with you and keep you in His perfect peace today.”

This elicits uplifting responses from all ages. One, an 80 year old Phoenix relative regularly answers something like “Have a peaceful week”. It’s nice to see that connection.

Growing up, Sundays were about many things: rest, church, cinnamon rolls, and the comics, which we called the funny papers.

“Funny Papers”, studio art quilt, Shirley Neary, 2000. Hand dyed and inkjet printed cottons, reverse appliqued. 38”by 29”.

When we were very young and lived on a farm by Breda, Iowa, going to church resulted in a reward for us kids. I told that story in the following art piece:

A stitched St. Bernard’s Church, from a photo I took. Candy images printed on cotton. Machine quilted.

Mom would make cinnamon rolls on Sundays. Now, we were living in Carroll, which meant we could walk to church. The older kids, (of which I was one, being the oldest), were allowed to sleep in, and go to late mass. When we got back, there was a warm breakfast of an egg and cinnamon roll.

In Mom’s handwriting. This is it, nothing on the back.I guess every homemaker in Iowa knew the rest of the instructions.

In 1977, when The Commodores came out with Lionel Ritchie’s song, “Easy” (like Sunday Morning), I couldn’t relate. Sunday mornings were not about ease and relaxation. They were hectic, and filled with obligation, or guilt.

We had 2 little boys then, and went to mass separately. Later, with 4 children, we all got presentable and went as a family. It was frantic. Somebody always had a paper route, with an adult helping. Often, we were responsible for Donut Sunday (at St. Margaret Mary’s), which was fun to do, going downtown to Petit’s Pastry shop to pick up the order.

That presentable issue created challenges. Could the boys wear a tee shirt? Yes, maybe, but without slogans. A collared shirt was better. Were jeans acceptable? They were not, in the 1970’s and 80’s. There were definite rumblings among the parish members about these choices, almost like gossip.

The best we could do; we were a casual family. Conor had just fallen moments before, so he’s still hurting from that.

In Mom and Dad’s time, of farm life and big families, they dressed up for church. My Aunt Jan tells me this story: “We would throw everything down the stairs on Saturday to prepare for Sunday mass, such as ironing the boys’ shirts and polishing the shoes. Near the finishing of that chore, Lenus would exchange his shoes for Dad’s. Then, Mom would say we missed polishing Daddy’s shoes.” He was a trickster!

Polished shoes photo, found online. Lenus, my dad, was 3rd oldest of 11 children.

One time, Mom and Dad were visiting us in Omaha from Carroll. On Saturday afternoon, we went to the Steamboat Bertrand exhibit at DeSoto Bend. The Bertrand sank on April 1, 1865, when it struck a submerged log in the DeSoto Bend of the Missouri River. The items recovered are what’s on display.

It was a very hot summer’s day. All of us were in shorts.

On the way home, Dad suggested going to the 5PM Saturday mass, fulfilling our Sunday obligation. He said it would be nice to wake up on Sunday morning and relax. I protested that we weren’t at all dressed for church.

We went and sat in a somewhat hidden side row, with me a little embarrassed, but happy to have an “Easy Like Sunday Morning” ahead of us.

If you would like to share any comments or photos from your Sunday mornings, please do!

Peace to you,

Shirley

An Okoboji Goodbye

The Marina at Village West had boats, jetskis, paddleboards and Maui Mats for rent. Enjoying it here are cousins from our group. Photo by Heidi Johnson.

When our niece, Wendy, titled her farewell e-mail, “An Okoboji Goodbye”, I thought it was so poetic. We had missed her family’s departure from the Neary Clan 2023 Reunion, where 130 people arrived and departed at all hours. It was a 10 day get-together at Village West Resort in NW Iowa’s glacial lake region, specifically at West Lake Okoboji.

Happy Wendy, Carlos and some of their family, Village West Convention Hall, June 25, 2023.

Wendy and Carlos. There’s a lot to tell about them, (too much for this blog post). They have always wowed us! It was really astonishing to have them attend from AZ, along with 5 of their 6 boys, and 1 daughter-in-law. You see, an illness has invaded their lives for more than a year. It is near miraculous that the afflicted person is still with us, here on earth, partying and talking and dancing. A true reward of intense faith and spiritual practices.

Every person who came was celebrated. Those who could not were remembered and thought about often. This is where the Neary reunion was held almost 40 years ago, in 1984. It (and we) looked a lot different then. Attendees this year remarked on how fabulous it was to have their 10 year old kids experience this place that they remember so fondly as a 10 year old.

Matriarch Betty Neary, with her 12 children, 1984, at what was then called Vacation Village.

Great pic of the cabins (now gone) and Peg with Kendra, 1984.

For this reunion, people stayed in timeshare buildings, where the owners had given up their week. It was all co-ordinated by Marne, at the resort, and our daughter-in-law, Amy. A super feat of organization.

Oh what a week it was! Highlights and special memories for me were :

Taking 5 year old Liam down the steps to the dock, where he hadn’t been for a year, and having him say, “I remember the spider webs.” Funny! I thought he’d say the water, the fish, the swimming. Spiderwebs are everywhere near the lake. Gus got a “face plant” as he entered the fishing boat early one morning, and Jess had to do a “limbo” move to get under a horizontal web over the steps.

The broom we use constantly to clear out webs.

Meals were catered in for most nights, as the resort’s restaurant has not re-opened since 2020. Wednesday night was Texas BBQ. We received an appreciative note from one of the kids, which I passed on to Back Alley Texas BBQ.

Standing in line for dinner one evening, I found myself behind a teen from AZ. I asked him if he went out at night to see the stars. He said, “Yes! We went into the cornfield, chasing the fireflies.” It was the first time he had seen them, in person! Before, he had only seen them in cartoons, ha ha. Note: we call them lightening bugs in the midwest.

No fireflies in this photo of family enjoying an Iowa corn field, near Village West. I’m tempted to draw them in!
Photo by Amanda Stoft, June 2023.

Seeing the young kids and adults enjoy the music of @DJNateT (our nephew on my side of the family, a Thelen). So much splendid dancing!!!

Heavenly. I now think of “Shout” as a Gospel tune.

Having a Catholic priest friend attend for special blessings. We need them.

Meeting a young reader from Oklahoma. We became instant friends on Goodreads.

Spilling the tea, the coffee, the wine, the beer, the water, and wiping it all up with old beach towels. Everyone helped. Speaking of clean up time, it was fun to see this crew dancing through the job!

Brandon, Bryan and Dan, serving Brats and Bob’s Dogs (sloppy joes over a hot dog) to Tammy and Charlotte. Dan bought this roaster pan especially for this.

Conor, Gus and Sam.

Trash. No industrial composting site is available in the area, and we couldn’t send it all back with Leigh (she composts everything-for herself and her customers-through@hillsidesolutions). We tried not to have too much waste, using a set of metal eatingware for some of the utensils, and steel cups, which were all put in the dishwasher at home each night. For plates, we used disposable ones made from palm leaves (said to decompose in 2 months). Forks were made from birch trees. Bryan said that using these was like eating with chopsticks, ha! He is so funny.

In our quest for non-plastic, we found these online. Made from palm leaves and birch trees.

Steel cups from @exist_green in Omaha. Planning chart by Shirley.

Mistaking Jason for the Hy-Vee breakfast delivery guy, saying, “Just put it over there”. He looked at me quizzically, and said, “No, I’m Jason, your nephew”. Ha ha. Oh well, it was early, and he did have a hat on, somewhat hiding his identity. Still, how embarrassing.

Solving the online NYTimes Sunday Crossword with Leigh and her husband, Brandon, on the dock, and getting an answer from a boat filled with Nearys passing by. “Try HOWDY DO” Jane yelled in answer to the clue “Old time country greeting”. It fit!

An Okoboji trip is not complete without a stop at Arnold’s Park for rides and amusements.

Kids loved the arcade at the resort, earning these tickets for prizes.

On another day, we had an impromptu Lemonade Stand at the end of our dock, calling over the pontoon carrying our relatives. Actually, Amy zipped out on the speed boat to make sure they heard our invitation. Conor quickly made and served 2 pitchers of freshly sqeezed lemonade.

Peg and Jean hosted an ice cream social, with the works-a good idea! They bought so many toppings and so much ice cream that it went on for 2 nights.

Jean even made a batch of hot fudge sauce in the crock pot, which went fast.

From the oldest to the youngest, we bonded.

Here I am (not quite the oldest) with the youngest attendee. Photo by Shannon Meyer.

So, to paraphrase the Irish writer, James Joyce, they came “and laughed and loved and left”, leaving us with shadows of their heartwarming presence.

And, leftovers, in our freezer and pantry still. And, many, many photos, YAY!

Enjoy your family. Here’s a photo of some of ours:

By The Des Moines Photo Booth Co., (owned and operated by another nephew, this one married to a Thelen), set up the same night as our DJ.

Shirley

On An Island Wedding

Pelicans at Sunset, Honduras. Photo by Brandon Fenster.

Did I tell you that our daughter was married last week? This momentuous event took place at the end of an “L” shaped dock, decorated with palm fronds and conch shells. The dock jutted out into the waters of a Caribbean Bay island off the northern coast of Honduras.

It was only the 2nd wedding in that location.

In many ways, it was a traditional wedding, with solemn vows spoken (amidst wide smiles), presided over by her brother, Conor. Her father walked her down the “aisle”, and nicely dressed guests were in attendance. The atmosphere was heavenly with warmth, and soft winds (and no insects).

An instrumental duo (violinist and guitarist) played Sade’s “By Your Side”. The inspiration for this choice was something Leigh discovered online, and had listened to “about a thousand times”, dreaming of it for her wedding. Her inspiration is a string quartet cover by Cattus Quartet, well worth a listen to. It will uplift your day!

No one had a cell phone up to their face to take pictures, (by strict proclamation from the bride) letting the professional photographer do his job. She wanted all of us to be in the moment, right there.

Photo by Brandon Neary, before the ceremony. In the background, you can see the cabana that was our dwelling place for the week, (half of it, shared with Lou and Anne, each half still private).

This outdoor wedding took place at 4:30 PM, as the sun was making its hazy descent over the mountainous opposite shore.

Leigh wore a hand crocheted, ecru lace, 2 piece ensemble, with an off the shoulder top and a long skirt. She and I both remarked that if we could have designed and made this wedding dress ourselves, it would be like this. The skirt snagged a couple of times on the nails of the wooden dock “aisle”. Her dad gently kept her going forward as the nails tried to pull her back.

I had packed a small sewing kit just in case a repair was needed.

Very useful to have. This little bag was made by my quilting buddy, Teri, and given to me at our retreat one year.

An engagement of three years preceded this wedding. Emotions were high. Tears gave way from their hiding place as the sensitive, tender hearted groom, Brandon, saw Leigh approach. His weren’t the only ones.

Afterwards, in celebration, watermelon mimosas were distributed and enjoyed before the party moved on to a dinner table set up on the small beach, with strings of lights to amplify the setting. We could not have been happier!

Conor, Leigh, her new husband Brandon Fenster, (holding the flowers temporarily), and brother, Brandon.

Leigh’s brother, Brandon, Mom (me, Shirley), sister-in-law Amy, and brother, Bryan.

The dinner table. Photo by Lou Andersen.

A few more details:

Both Leigh and Brandon have a fondness for Legos, so the cake topper was their original creation. It included their pets (Leigh’s cat, Frost, and Brandon’s bird, Kiwi), plus a ring and a scuba tank on the groom.

About 20 of us were truly on an island, on which there is a resort, Clark’s Cay. To get there, from Roatan, Honduras, required a two hour ferry and a twenty minute boat ride.

The island is small, about 4 acres, and undeveloped in parts which were fun to explore. We especially enjoyed walking around its perimeter, where you could sit awhile on these stone steps.

An enchanting discovery! Photo by Brandon Neary. From here, you can see the barrier that keeps the wild sea away.

The Barrier Reef waters surrounding it are shallow, perfect for seeing marine life, from a puffy yellow starfish to small sharks, (about 3 feet long), to a baby octopus. The Roatan Barrier Reef, part of the MesoAmerican Barrier Reef, is the 2nd largest barrier reef in the world (after Australia’s Great Barrier Reef). Located in the Caribbean Sea, it runs along the coasts of Belize, Honduras, Guatamala and Mexico.

What an education!

Photo by Anne Andersen. A resident on the island found it, and brought it to show us, and then put it back into the water, where it released its dark inky protective liquid.

The land interior was just as fascinating. We were startled when a large iguana hopped out of a tree in front of us, or a coconut fell. Once, I had orange pollen all over my face, unknowingly, because I bent down to smell a tropical flower, a spider lily, I think it was.

An ever so brief encounter with this plant, and I had 3 people telling me about the orange color on my face, and attempting to clean it off, ha ha!

Honduras was chosen because Leigh’s new hubby is a scuba diver and they had visited the area before. They both appreciate its pristine waters.

On this trip, Leigh snorkled and looked eye to eye with a parrotfish, who seemed to smile at her she said.

We have more than memories from this occasion. We have a new appreciation of things, people and places we knew nothing about before. Leigh gifted each of us, and the resort, with a book meaningful to her, GIFT FROM THE SEA, by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. A passage from it was highlighted, and beautifully read at the wedding by her friend, Tien.

A few more of our personal photos:

Brandon (now in shorts) and Leigh, relaxing after the wedding. Photo by Lou.

Leigh and her friend, Carmen (one time California house mate and co-worker). Beautiful!

Leigh and her dad, later in the week. The LOVE sculpture was a surprise enhancement, handmade recently, from wood, sanded and painted by Clark’s Cay personnel.

Leigh with friends, Tien, Crys, and Carmen. These ladies, along with Tamara, Anne, and Bella played hard all week!

The whole group on Sept. 1, a little get away cruise so that surprise birthday decor could be put up for Conor’s 41st, (and my 70th, earlier in the week).

People were invited to this intimate wedding by a handmade invitation that I had a lot of fun working on with Leigh and Brandon, a year ago. It was inspired by the Wonderword puzzles, that used to be in The Omaha World Herald. Now, I find them online.

The remaining letters, (the Wonderword) revealed the destination!

This post was written especially for family and friends who were not there, and is a record of what I experienced, because of Leigh and Brandon’s plans. There are more photos, of the dives, for instance, that I did not include, and of the wedding that I left out, for brevity.

Hope you’re spending your day doing what you enjoy!

Shirley

How We Gave Mom a Vacation

Mom and Dad in Canada, 1984. By then, she had been married to her fisherman for 33 years. She was hooked.

Our mother was quite cheerful as she went about raising her brood, keeping house, and later, a career with Penney’s. A favorite image of mine is seeing her open the dining room windows, 3 in a row, to let the southern breezes in. The way the gauzy curtains ruffled out into the room, reflected Mom’s easy movements throughout the house.

She was a hard worker most days. But once in a while, she’d say ”Today, we’re going bumming.” Then, we’d climb into the blue and white Ford and go some place like her sister Norma’s farmhouse where they could chat and we could play with our cousins. Some days we’d go for a drive around Swan Lake or Lake View to see birds and wildlife.

She did like the lake!

So, every summer of my childhood, we gave her a whole week at Lake Belle Taine, near Park Rapids, MN. Of course, she was not alone on this trip. Dad and all of us kids thought we’d keep her company, just for the fun of it.

The Collaborators, in 1968. My siblings and I in Minnesota. L to R, Shirley, Tony, Karen, Marty, Ed, and Rob, (in front).

It was decided to take her in June. Fishing is best then, and that way we can all wear our favorite winter gear a little longer, in case summer hasn’t quite arrived. She’ll have a great time making sure we have our stocking caps and gloves packed.

We tried to remember her favorite things. We would say something like, ”Oh Mom, you have to pack the dented old cake pan so you can make those fresh brownies you like so well!”

And, ”Oh! You do like to sew, so be sure to stitch up a couple of new shorts outfits for the girls, with that happy, colorful print, or the green striped seersucker you let me choose.”

Such fun!

Once we got there, we treated her to all sorts of adventures.

One time, she heard the heart stopping shriek of ”Tony fell in the lake!”, repeated twice for urgency, just so she wouldn’t miss out. A quick rescue saved the youngest child, and the day.

Another time, on the last day of her vacation, when the car was all packed to go home (sweet home), she heard someone yell, ”Robbie has a hook in his leg!!” Oh how she loved that! She was able to render aid and be a nurse. It just made her feel so good! A quick trip to the hospital for stitches delayed the departure by 2 hours. This made her other sons, Eddie and Marty, happy for 2 more unexpected hours of lake time and glorious fishing!

These vacations for Mom continued into her grandparenthood, when grandchildren in their late teens came along. They would yell new phrases of delight to enliven the party, like Conor screaming “Craig, Craig, where did you go?” at 1AM while the 2 of them were canoing across the bay to the opposite shore. It just about made her heart flip, the actions of this frolicking good time duo. Such high jinks are always remembered and cherished, ha ha.

Sometimes, we would get away from the lake and the fish, and go to Deertown, where she could get up close to the charming animals.

We knew how much she loved the Go-Kart rides in Park Rapids so we took her there often. Then, she’d be so hungry that we had to take her to lunch. Wouldn’t you know it? HER favorite meal (and ours too) was a hamburger, fries, and a malt, at a formica table in a diner.

Oh! What a sweet mom! It was so much fun to treat her!

Next, we said we’d like to take her shopping. There were some nice boutiques and antique stores, but we thought a stop at the toy store would be so much better. It would make her laugh and give her joy. It did! She liked her new beach ball and floating raft very much, and she liked sharing them too, letting us play with them whenever we wanted to.

Kids on the dock. Teenager Shirley, and little sis Karen (in front) with other campers, & a rustic pontoon.

She did get to the antique store. It was attached to the laundromat, so that gave her a little bit of work to do (the laundry) before the fun (of looking at antiques). It fulfilled her by giving her a chance to live her motto, ”First we work, then we play!”

It was a blast giving her all of that laundry to do because we knew how much she relished it. And, it was a diversion from too much beach sitting (wink wink).

Park Rapids laundromat, with antique store attached. Mom and I always laughed at the clothesline with red flannel long johns on the roof.

One time we gave her a gift to open. I have to say, this was quite exciting! It was a new fishing lure, the fantastic plow jockey! Her eyes widened with surprise while opening it. She said ”Wow! My very own plow jockey!” She was so gracious, and said that Dad and the boys must be the first ones to try it out. She even wished them luck as they left the cabin to fish (and got out of her hair) for a few hours.

She probably really enjoyed those few hours to herself. But soon, her loneliness would get her to thinking about us, and then she would bake a cake or plan lunch. Breakfast was on our own, and supper was always a fish fry that Dad planned and executed, so she did not have the PLEASURE of making 3 meals a day. Sigh, poor Mom.

By the way, this lure was, and still is, legendary. It was introduced to us by our Uncle Al in Indiana. He was quite hilarious as he taught us how to use it. According to my brother, Ed, this is how the instruction went, while they were fishing in a boat: “Fish ‘em slow”, he said, ”just cast out,” at which point he took a drag from a cigarette. Then, he resumed, ”Lift the rod up, and reel in slow”. At the time, Ed thought, “What? I’m supposed to start smoking to fish these lures?” Ha!

Kelly’s (the inventor, and brand name) Original Plow Jockey. Invented in Ft. Wayne.

We knew Mom loved this vacation, because she was a little misty eyed as we were leaving and heading back to Iowa. She said it was just the most wonderful trip ever! Then, I’m pretty sure, I heard her say softly, ”Maybe next year we’ll go somewhere that does not involve fishing.”

Oh, Mom!

Enjoy your days and your vacations, wherever they are!

Shirley

Note: This blog post was inspired by our annual vacations—thank you, Dad and Mom— and a very funny short story, ”How We Kept Mother’s Day” by Stephen Leacock. I read it in a used 1962 copy of 30 STORIES TO REMEMBER, selected by Thomas Costain and John Beercroft, Doubleday & Co., Inc.

A few more random pics from Little John’s Resort on Lake Belle Taine, MN:

The Thelens, 1980, and Bryan, Brandon (held by Mom), and Shirley Thelen Neary. Photo by Dan Neary.

Shirley, borrowing a fish, for fun, 1968.

Grandpa Leny Thelen, with Leigh Neary, 1991.

The Thelen Family, pretty much the whole gang (including a few derelicts, since reformed:) at Little John’s Resort.

The Birches of Minnesota. Photo by Shirley, 1980.

The End.

On Cleaning Up After Christmas Dinner

”Dish by Dish”, 28”W by 29”H, studio art quilt by Shirley, 2001.
Cotton, dye, inkjet print, hand and machine stitched.

Traditionally, the most important time for family gatherings in the Neary household is on Christmas Eve, not on Christmas Day. This was begun by Dan’s father, Ray, while Dan was growing up.

In our house, family arrives anytime after noon, and we have a casual lunch buffet, with Dan doing most of the preparation. The menu is this: cheese spread with crackers, meatballs, little smokies in “Tony’s sauce” (secret recipe, ha), deviled eggs, a veggie tray, and shrimp from Absolutely Fresh Seafood. A platter of homemade cookies and fudge is set out also.

Then, we play games, rest a little, and maybe open one gift.

Around 5 or so, we go to a children’s Mass, and come back for a formal dinner. Many grand entrees have been prepared over the years, such as beef tenderloin, lobster, or Duck a l’orange, followed by gift unwrapping. This was somewhat exhausting!

Usually, we had places to go the next day, some that were hours away and out of state (to Iowa), for other family celebrations.

In the past few years, we’ve significantly reduced the elegance and work, by choosing to do only the very wonderful buffet, in mid afternoon. We still light candles, and use nice dishes and linens. Clean up is easier, for sure, and we still celebrate the joy.

Here is something I wrote a few years ago, on Dec. 27, 2015, when we served both meals:

As the dishes, pots and pans, cups and glasses and utensils pile up on the counter, I think for one second that this is crazy! More pans on the stovetop, a full dishwasher going through its cleaning cycle, and dessert is yet to be—are there enough clean forks?

The food is creative and delicious, the company divine, in fun and conversation! And help also!

So, when I go to bed at 11:00 on Christmas Eve with cleanup halfway done, I am not looking forward to the rest of the dish duties.

My quick sketch of some of the varying degrees of cleanup.

However, on Christmas morning, I get up so early, and can quietly clean a few items (while others sleep), looking out over the park, and at the Woodmen Tower with its green and red lights.

What I’m remembering is that time when Dan’s sister, Linda, taught me about messy kitchens and cleaning them up. In the mid 1970’s, she came to Omaha to visit, and cooked a Mexican dinner in our tiny Benson apartment kitchen, using every wedding gift and piece of equipment we owned. I was somewhat appalled at the state of our kitchen!

Then, we ate, and enjoyed, and after that, we methodically cleaned up dish by dish, washing, drying, and putting everything away.

And then, our kitchen was ready for many more cooking and cleaning up episodes. I hope everyone is enjoying time around a family table often!

Shirley