On Newspapers

Shirley, favorite position, reading the Omaha World Herald, early 1980’s. I wonder who took this pic, maybe Brandon, for a school project on what his mother does all day?

Call me Papergirl.

I love newspapers!

I love them so much that I’ve been gifted with a small town Iowa weekly, The Coon Rapids Enterprise, which I now get in the mail. It covers my hometown area of Carroll County. I also read the digital versions of The Carroll Times Herald, (covering Carroll, IA news), and the Omaha World Herald, but I prefer paper copies.

My favorite time to read those papers used to be in late afternoon, right after it got delivered to our home on 55th Street. I would slow down, stop everything, and sit on the front porch steps to read it. My neighbors did the same, bonding with me as I waved “hello” and read.

Summers in Okoboji (since 2010), I’m desperate for an actual physical paper. The Coon Rapids one, being forwarded, doesn’t always make it. Every Tuesday, The Lake News Shopper shows up in my mailbox. I spread it out on the kitchen table and peruse what it offers. It’s a surprise to me how entertained and informed I am by this free publication.

There used to be vending machines a short bike ride away from our lakehouse. One had the Des Moines Register, the other, The Omaha World Herald. Sometimes I’d splurge and spend all my quarters on both. One year, they just disappeared, leaving me nostalgic for the simple pleasure of biking to retrieve a paper, with the wind in my face, shady trees above, and often a grandchild by my side.

So, I went on a search, driving around, looking for a paper. Every gas station, grocery store and book store was checked. My familiar papers were nowhere to be found. I guess the business of delivering copies was no longer profitable.

The conscierge in our midtown Omaha condo building told me once that he thinks the paper is trying to steer everyone to digital by not making deliveries more efficient. He was in charge at that time of getting the newspapers to people’s doors. There were always problems, apparently.

Now that I’m a subscriber once again to hand held paper editions, I’m in charge (ha ha, not true). I’m only delivering to customers on our floor. I get a kick out of it, for now. When I tire of this volunteer job, I’ll give it up and let another person experience the joy.

I get up very early, always have. So, it makes sense for me to be the one to bring the rubber banded bundle inside, and check off what I’m taking.

Outer lobby, drop off site. Not many papers here!

Organizing my floor. I go behind the conscierge desk to get a pen. On this day, a Wall Street was missing! Not my problem.

My concern (a minor one) is what to do with the rubber bands? They’re a little ink smudged. I think I’ll keep them, and give them back to the delivery person, if I ever figure out how to meet that person. Wonder what time he/she gets here? I am NOT going down in the middle of the night for the zero waste sake of a few rubber bands.

Our son, Brandon, and daughter, Leigh, each had paper routes. They earned a ton of their own spending cash, and relished those rewards. One of Brandon’s customers saved all of the rubber bands (a red color then) and gave them back to him so he wouldn’t have to buy any. He thought that was ridiculous, if I remember correctly. Paper carriers bought their own cloth delivery bag, clear plastic sacks, and rubber bands to get the job done.

1990, Brandon, and Wed. PM papers. Quite a big job! The World Herald had 2 editions each day.

When Mom and Dad visited, Brandon was helped by Dad, who really enjoyed giving him a lift, driving around his route. We only did that with him in bad weather, and maybe on Sundays.

Years later, there was only one daily, delivered in the morning, to our mailbox on the curb. Dad was the first one out there (often barefooted, even in snow- he had sturdy feet, EEE wide). I’d get up at the same time to go walking. I thought we could visit a little, but he seemed happy reading the paper. I understood. We both liked the alone time; his at the table, mine along the path outside.

Newspapers have provided me with lots of entertainment. Artist friends suggested I read The Wall Street Journal. They liked it for thoughtful subject ideas, based on the news, as well as arts and culture coverage. So did I, and still do.

Dan’s job took us to Long Island, NY for almost a year (our big adventure). Conor and Leigh went to high school at Cold Spring Harbor High. We all explored the area, and I explored the newspapers, becoming a fan of Newsday, which I now follow on Social Media.

I enjoy the stories and photos in any newspaper. Besides the headlines in news and sports, I read the Opinion and Obituary pages. Opinions help me feel connected to our community, and the world. I’ve written a few letters to the editor, and saw them published. One was somewhat controversial. It was brought to Dan’s attention by his superior at work (the president of the company) who did not appreciate my comments in the letter. The company had taken the opposite position (which I had no knowledge of). It had to do with downtown development. Dan knew nothing about my letter.

We can laugh about it now.

Once, I wrote an essay, “How to Build a Cupcake Shop”. I wanted to highlight our small business and my partners there. The World Herald printed it, and changed the title to “Recipe for Success”. I was not happy. It was too generic, I thought. I learned firsthand the power of an editor.

It took me awhile to think that obits were worth my time. My friend, Liz, told me she always reads them. We were in our 30’s at the time. It didn’t seem that a young person (how I saw myself) would read those. I now like a well written obituary, especially if it’s concise with a few individual characteristics of the person. Some are quite humorous, making the reader happy to be alive.

Newspapers are a luxury to me. When we stay at a hotel, the papers in the lobby are such a treat. It’s even better if it’s dropped outside your door. Local news right from the city we’re visiting!

One time I was tempted to steal a neighbor’s paper in a hotel hallway. It was right next to our room. Then, I discovered that we had a “back door” into our suite, and this paper was actually ours. Yippee!

Another luxury for me, once a year, was breakfast in bed, on Mother’s Day. The Sunday paper was all mine to look through first, and leisurely, delivered with the breakfast.

Call me Happy (or Papergirl:),

Shirley

My IPAD is a Baby

My one time go to for advice on baby care.

Priceless, vulnerable, with you all the time. That pretty much describes a baby, and my 8 month old ipad.

Like most of you, I hold my ipad all day long. This past week it was for reading an Omaha library e-book, THE IMMORTAL IRISHMAN, by Timothy Egan, (a Bryan Neary recommend-it was mesmerizing!), and for typing, editing, and illustrating (with photos) Dan’s handwritten Storyworth book. This was a joint project we really enjoyed!

WordPress blog essays and a few learning lessons are done on my ipad. I no longer have a desktop or laptop computer.

I also read the news, e-mails, favorite blogs, some social media, and Iowa Writers Collaborative pieces.

I was spending a lot of time walking around with this ipad in my hands, or arms, near my hip, reminescent of Rock-A-Bye baby time.

One morning, it had a temperature! Scary!

It looked like this, very soon after opening it.

So I shut it down immediately. Dan thought I should take it in for a checkup, but I knew that most fevers go away on their own. It did not happen again.

Soon after that, maybe a week or two later, I downloaded the latest update, 16.3. But, there was a problem. It couldn’t be installed, due to no cell service. Strange, because for 8 months it had perfect cell service.

What I’m about to tell you are the all consuming acts I did for 2 days to get my ipad better, just as you would with a baby.

You’d go to a clinic or doctor. I went to Verizon, across the street, where I bought the ipad. Manzur was the person at the counter, and, count my lucky stars, I was the only customer! He inserted a new SIM card, and tried his best, but alas, no cellular service could be found. He said it was an Apple issue and had to be taken to the Apple Store.

I did not want to do that. I told myself, maybe I can live without cellular on the ipad (I have an iphone), anything to get out of going to the Apple Store, way out west. But, I was paying for cell service that I liked to have on a road trip, or in a park, and it’s under warranty, so I should take care of it.

OK, time to go online and look up Apple Support. I was elated to see an approved service center at a Best Buy, in the neighborhood! An appointment was made. I was sure this would fix it. It was fun! I took the ORBT (Omaha Rapid Bus Transit, along Dodge St.) on a sunny winter day, and walked a couple of blocks. Inside, I was soon with a GEEK SQUAD member, Kris, who tried everything, but could not repair it. He said I had to go to Apple.

A side note, while I was at Best Buy, I reminisced about our son, Brandon, working there in a blue shirt during high school. It made me happy to think of that.

Afterwards, my ipad and I met Dan at Charleston’s for lunch in a cozy booth, just the 3 of us, ha ha.

When I got home, I message chatted with Apple Support, who was oh so polite and patient, step by step, as we went through everything, even the diagnostics that I had to initiate on my end. Still no success. You need to have a phone conversation with a senior advisor, I was told, and here’s the number.

I put that off for a few hours and did a spa time at home.

It’s stressful having a sick baby!

Around 6 PM, I called Apple Support, getting Ricardo, within (surprise!) 2 minutes. He was very nice, supportive, and calm, but ended with, “You have to take it to Apple, or mail it in for repair.”

I would never mail in my baby.

He made me an appointment for the very next morning. Now, I was getting excited. I had never been to an Apple Store.

Here’s what happened: They cheerily greet you, check you in, and have you sit on these cubes in the back, waiting your turn. Adam soon came to get me. In 5 minutes he had done another diagnostic test (their own) which showed that the eSIM card had failed. Since ipads are not made to be opened up and repaired (YAY! No surgery for this baby!), I was to get a new one, a brand new ipad to hold and love.

But, before that, he asked me if I wanted to hug my old one, and say good bye to it.

Ha ha! Who did he think I was? An ipad isn’t something to hug! Or is it?

Shirley

To the Schelles!

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…

by Shirley Neary September 14, 2026September 15, 2026

The Sneaky Art of Selling Beer

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…

by Shirley Neary August 19, 2026

On Talking to Claude

This puzzle was started on February 18, 2025, and hung around until Thanksgiving of the same year. I have never given up on a jigsaw puzzle, and with Claude’s help, I didn’t have to on this one. There are 1000 pieces, and only a 5″ by 7″ photo of this 1906 painting to go by.…

by Shirley Neary December 30, 2025

The Little Old Lady Who Could Not Read

This past weekend, I watched “A Chef’s Life” on PBS. Vivian is the chef, and she was being honored in Kentucky (for her new cookbook, I think), so the episode was about bourbon.

At the honoring dinner, they prepared and served Pepsi /peanut ice cream floats, topped with a little bourbon to your liking. Vivian said it represented the tobacco workers who would drop salted peanuts into their Pepsis on their breaks.

I immediately thought fondly of my Aunt Jan (Janet Thelen Overgaard) who would serve us this very same treat (salted peanuts dropped into a bottle of Pepsi—not the float) in the 1960’s. It was in Breda, IA, at Henrietta’s Cafe, where she worked.

I was inspired to try the float! So, off to Wohlner’s I go to get ice cream, peanuts, a bottle of Pepsi, and Bourbon. They don’t have peanut ice cream, only peanut butter, which would probably work too. But, I chose to add peanuts to vanilla ice cream.

So excited! This will be my lunch today. I drop a scoop of ice cream into the glass, add some peanuts, then the Pepsi. It is then that I realize I’ve bought flavored Pepsi! It’s vanilla, so it’s fine, but I really wanted only a regular Pepsi.

To make up for having the wrong Pepsi, I pour in a little bourbon. Yowza!! That was so good! This may be our signature condo cocktail (which I’m always dreaming about having but have never settled on one) to serve guests.

This has happened before, my not reading carefully. A few years ago, I complained to my quilting buddies about reaching for the conditioner instead of the shampoo in the shower, and sometimes mistaking the gel for the shampoo, if it happened to be nearby.

Bonnie gave me the tip of placing a big magic marker initial on each: S for shampoo and C for conditioner. Very useful! One year, our Mahoney Retreat quilters had a challenge project: Depict your favorite tip from Retreat in a small quilt. This was mine:

Here is something I wrote on 8-5-2010, at 3 AM:

Up at night, reflecting on the meaning of life. Thinking about lots of things at the lakehouse (like the hole in the basement floor-the covering should be more permanent than a board over it, and toilet replacements taking place on Bryan and Amy’s arrival day—does that mean we won’t have water?)

Also, thinking about how, when planning a residence, you can spend lots and lots of money and time and still not get it right. Or, you can make improvements and not get the value back when you sell.

Then, I think of the lakehouse itself. So expensive, and yet, it was built and furnished in 1990. Updating it would add more expense. Not likely to happen. And not worth it at this time. Proximity to the lake is its biggest asset.

All of this makes me hungry, so I go to have a bowl of Rice Krispies with bananas and milk, adding a spoonful of natural peanut butter on the side, which I’ve just opened and stirred. Uh oh! this tastes sweet! I bought the peanut butter with honey! Not my favorite.

I’m now reminded of a silly kid’s book we used to enjoy, “The Little Old Man Who Could Not Read”. When his wife goes away on a trip, he has to buy his own groceries. He buys buttermilk instead of regular milk, and onion soup instead of chicken soup.

And now, I have bought peanut butter with honey instead of regular peanut butter. I’ve become “ The Little Old Lady Who Could Not Read”

Shirley