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!
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.
A recent photo of Dan cooking.
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.
Too hot!
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.
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!
In recent days, a friend shared a film on social media. It is heartbreakingly sad, and important, titled “Cost of Beauty: A Dove Film/ Dove Self Esteem Project”. Maybe you’ve seen it and cried over it yourself. I’m posting the link at the end.
My Grandma Schelle used Dove, and so did I on overnights there. It’s in my daughter-in-law’s bathroom now. It’s most famous as a moisturizing Beauty Bar, containing 1/4 cleansing cream.
In 2004 Dove began its Campaign for Real Beauty, followed by the Dove Self Esteem Fund in 2006. On their web site, a statement says, in part, “for over a decade, we’ve been working to make beauty a source of confidence, not anxiety”.
This is a very good marketing idea, and makes me want to go get a Beauty Bar immediately.
I looked up its origin and found out (from Wikipedia) that Vincent Lambertie invented it as an American chemist working for Lever Brothers. Dove soap was introduced on March 8, 1957. Unilever now owns Dove Soap Company.
Beautiful.
Here’s something I wrote on 10-23-2010:
On the Dove Campaign For Girls
A friend sent me a link, which was an ad by Dove about Media’s message to young women on how to be more beautiful. At the end, it says, “Talk to your daughters before the media does.”
It made me think of my own impressionable preteen and young teen years. Back then, in the 1960’s, I was so impressed by London fashion and beauty. The Beatles were big! So was Yardley of London cosmetics, Twiggy, and British fashions. Seventeen magazine was a favorite, with its many, many ads.
I remember tearing one out of Lauren Hutton in a bikini and scotch taping it to the fridge. It was meant as inspiration and incentive to keep me from reaching in to the refrigerator too often.
Lauren Hutton, as a young model. Found online.
Plus, I admired Ms. Hutton for her famous desire to keep the space between her top two front teeth. Just like mine.
Getting back to the Dove campaign, I remember my mother talking to me, before and after media exposure.
Some of the things she said, re-inforcing our inner, personal beauty (something ad campaigns can never give us) were:
“Always wear a smile.”
“Boys like clean soap smells, not so much cologne!” Ambush, Tabu, and Emeraude were my favorites to douse myself in.
“Don’t kiss your boyfriend in the middle of the day, in front of the house.” “I didn’t. He kissed me,” I responded.
And, she took down my Lauren Hutton bikini pic. It was too revealing for a family kitchen.
All good lessons for young women.
Here is the video that reinspired this post: It’s titled, “Cost of Beauty: A Dove Film/Dove Self Esteem Project”.
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.
August 28, 2022
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.
Playful topper! Photo by Conor.
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.
Smiling underwater friendly fish.Island bounty.
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 precious book.
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).Happy Birthday! Photo by Lou.
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!
On Writing, On Life 