In the photo below, I’m not sure what BFI stands for. Could it be Battallion Format Inspection? These were military style camps.
I loved discovering this “Built By” sign.
The mysteriously beautiful Lakeside Labs (along the shores of West Lake Okoboji) got a closer look by me last week, on 2 separate visits.
For 12 years now, (since we’ve owned a lakehouse), we’ve traveled along HWY 86 on the west side of the lake. These rustic stone structures have always beckoned. “Just what is this place?” I wondered.
One time in years past, Amy and I, with a few kids, drove in and got a brochure. It was interesting, but we didn’t make time to ever go again.
Now, I was inspired to go for two reasons:
1. Our neice, Kelly, had taken her preschool class there and sent me this pic with all of the red leaves. It was a gorgeous setting. And the kids were so cute and happy there!
Pre-school field trip, Oct. 17, 2022.
2. The Okoboji Writers Retreat, which I attended, was held there in September. I got a taste of its layout by walking between the buildings where sessions were held. I wanted to go back for a closer look.
Ideal autumn conditions, such as a chill in the air, lots of sunshine, and very little wind told me that this was the time to go!
I drove in and easily knew where to park. It was almost abandoned at this time of year.
I took off on the nearest trail. It’s funny, I thought the buildings were the main attraction, but the botanicals pulled me in more. Crunching through the fallen leaves reminded me of walks to school in elementary grades, along N. Carroll St., in Carroll, IA.
A Stone Building lab.
Areas of wild grasses, native plants, and huge oak and cottonwood trees (which are my favorite, when the wind blows through them) wowed me.
Then, the peacefulness came. I relaxed so much, as I discovered trails to the water, old bridges over dry creeks, and stone steps.
I had just read about this Youth in Philanthropy group in the Lake News Shopper.Stone steps built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930’s.
What is limnology? After seeing this sign, I looked it up. It’s the study of inland waters as ecosystems: their biological, chemical, and physical features.
The oldest building at the Labs is The Main Cottage, built in the 1800’s as a summer home. Fascinating!
The Lakeside Labs started in 1909. It was founded by Dr. Thomas MacBride for “The study of nature in nature.” It is a field station of Iowa’s 3 state universities.
These stone buildings, were built by the Civilian Conservation Corps, a project of Roosevelt’s New Deal during the Depression, to put single men (between the ages of 18 and 25) to work on public lands. These were military style camps, such as this photo found online:
An interesting side note is that several celebrities worked in these camps across the country, such as actors Walter Matthau and Raymond Burr, and American league baseball hall of famer Stan Musial.
Diatoms; one of many things I learned about while hiking around here.
Oak Tree.Plenty of birds to see and hear. I saw woodpeckers and chickadees. This upside down blue one (a nuthatch?) was striking to see.Charming!Having a little bridge to cross adds to the fun.Gene Stoermer, with biology degrees from Iowa State, was a leading researcher in diatoms on fresh lake species.Look! I found some red leaves!
Thanks for reading, and touring part of The Lakeside Labs with me.
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!
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:
Brandon, Sunset, Lake Belle Taine 1988.Bryan and Brandon Neary, 1980.Grandpa Leny Thelen, Brandon and Bryan.Brandon’s first fish, June 1980.The Thelens, 1980, and Bryan, Brandon (held by Mom), and Shirley Thelen Neary. Photo by Dan Neary.Shirley, borrowing a fish, for fun, 1968.Shirley, Karen, Dan, 1972.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.Conor Neary and Wes Thelen, 1991.
Funny, Reusable, Washable Paper Towel Substitutes, from the Exist Green shop in Omaha. These were gifted to me last Christmas, and made all of us laugh.
The other day, I splashed a lot of coffee on a favorite white cotton dishtowel. As I vigorously sprayed hot, hot water on it, in the sink, very close to the stain, I was reminded of how I learned to do this from Ed ( Co-owner and Master Baker) and Kara (Pastry Chef and Operations Manager) at Cupcake Island.
It seems that I was bothered by the chocolate stains on our pure white terry towels and was throwing them in the laundry bag, until Ed caught me and said if I kept on doing this, we would have way too much laundry. So Kara said, ”Haven’t you ever learned this?” as she showed me the technique for quick stain removal. I was fascinated!
Cupcake Island, Opening Day, 9/5,2006, Shirley and Grandkids Sam and Clara. This is where I learned many new things.
At home, this desire to change out the towels frequently came from our daughter-in-law’s sister, Sarah, who likes to clean, and always has a clean dishtowel. Now I do that also, at least once a day.
However, in the past, I’m not sure what I did in 45 years of marriage and household management. I remember installing a bar inside the cupboard door under the sink for the dishcloth to dry. I’ve never been a fan of the lumped up dishcloth (or dishrag as my family called it) in the bottom of the sink, or hanging behind and around the faucet.
Old dishrag, bunched up. Don’t do this.Another old dishrag hanging around. Don’t like to see this.
On this dishcloth/dishrag designation, my brother-in-law, Tom, says, ”When it’s new, it’s a dishcloth; after it’s been used, it’s a dishrag.” Ha!
Summer, 2021 splurge. Brand new all cotton absorbent kitchen cloths, my favorite.
When the used ones became musty (inevitably), I washed them. To prevent the mustiness, Grandma Philomena gave me the tip of putting a few drops of bleach in the pan of dishwater. That works really well until you don’t do the dishes that way any more, with most being cleaned in the dishwasher now. But you still need a wet, soapy cloth to clean countertops, cooktops, refrigerator front, and appliance handles.
Recently, my sis-in-law, Jane, told me that her husband, Pat Neary, would put the wet cloth in the microwave for a minute or so, to dry and disinfect it. I have not done that myself, but it seems to be a good idea!
Another idea from my daughter-in-law’s ”fond of cleaning” family: have 2 kinds of towels out everyday, one for drying your hands, and one for the dishes. The one for dishes is the flour sack, muslin type, that is thin, soft and very absorbent. Good idea! I had never thought of that.
Photo found online. I used to have many of these.
Embroidered dish towels were very popular in the 1950’s and 60’s, and a good gift from Aunts and Grandmas. They had line drawings and often cute sayings, or days of the week, with colorful embroidery outlines. I’m sure I even made some of these in 4-H or Girl Scouts, as a way to learn stitchery.
Another thing about dishcloths-you can use them almost anytime you’d use a paper towel. But, do you really want to? I ask myself that often, because many times a day, our granite counter is very spotty with food prep and water splashes. Since I don’t have a sink of soapy water due to dishes being placed in dishwasher, I have to make a little soap and water each time I wipe the counter, or use a spray cleaner with paper towels. Now, with our waste free philosophy, (learned from our daughter, Leigh), I usually feel too wasteful to do that. We buy very few paper towels these days. So, I get a clean dishcloth, do the cleanup, and put that one in the laundry room, because, as you know, I don’t like seeing a wet cloth in the sink.
Like I said, I don’t know how I did it all of those years raising a family. For sure, I was not as obsessed with how things looked in the kitchen! Now, I have that luxury, and I kind of enjoy it.
As the TV ad said, “Life is messy; clean it up!” , with your dishrag or dishcloth, whatever you call it!
It was the summer of 1969; senior year of high school was ahead of me. I had a full time job taking care of two children at their house, while their mother worked at J.C.Penney’s. She picked me up and took me home, before and after work. The days were long, but basically I enjoyed them.
Sometimes, I washed my hair there and put in rollers (hair curlers). It was all part of good grooming in those days, and something I did on this day.
Maybe the curlers were this attractive style, or maybe the fetching-in-pink kind below.
As my two little charges and I were having lunch, I was startled to hear a male voice yell out, ”Meter Man!”. Whoever he was walked in the back door and went right to the basement.
Not my meter man, a stand-in.
I immediately followed this scary-charming voice, and was surprised to see that it was a classmate who I knew but had not really talked to that much.
He broke all city rules that day by taking a break, and sitting at the kitchen table to chat with me for a while. Remember, I was in hair rollers, so I was quite embarrassed. Still, we laughed and talked easily for awhile, then went on with our jobs and our day.
I liked him! I’ve liked him for over 52 years now, married for 49 of those years. Yes, the meter man was Dan. We often laugh about how the words from that day were all it took to set up a lifetime together, even with hair rollers involved.
We’re still talking around a kitchen table, and I hope you are too, with the meaningful people in your lives!
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…
This marvelous storefront photo is just the kind of thing I was thinking about, back on May 22, 2011, when I wrote this: There is a phenomonon of warmth and comfort that arises whenever I see lit up interiors viewed from the outside. The effect is even more inviting on a rainy, foggy, or snowy…
Our first deck, and its furniture, pencil drawing by Shirley, 1989.
Newer is not always better than old, and sometimes old is even better than new! That is my opinion. Today, as we transition to colder weather and put outdoor furniture in the garage, I’m thinking specifically of our heavy wrought iron set. Always accept help, by the way, when it comes to moving items down steps and around the lawn. I think I pulled a muscle when I didn’t wait for the offered assistance, only about 5 minutes out. That independent streak was at work.
Our deck in 1989, without furniture. Built in seats are a good design feature! This was a very warm Easter Sunday in Omaha.
When we bought a lakehouse in 2010, a set of white, curlicue iron outdoor furniture came with it. At first, I didn’t know if I would like it because it was so old fashioned. However, in the intervening years, I have come to appreciate it so much, and now think it is irreplaceable!
My brother, Ed, has already claimed the table if we do ever switch it out for something new. He likes how it never seems to be dirty, whereas a glass topped table always looks smudgy, and has to be wiped clean before using.
Sunrise seen through and around my favorite deck chair, October, 2021.
This is why I think our white iron furniture is so valuable:
Its 6 chairs are of ample size for all ages and body types. They will not break, even with rambuctious college kids using them.
Its weight and sturdiness holds up to Okoboji winds, keeping them in place on the deck. Our neighbors’ lightweight chairs often end up on the grass, flipped over.
No pillows are required, so there is no having to move cushions in and out of the rain. Although, somehow, a few green and white cushions showed up, and we don’t know from who—were they Mom and Dad’s? Karen and Jim, or Bry and Amy are the most logical suspects, but they won’t admit to bringing them, ha ha!
The mysterious green cushions. I believe a folded beach towel works as well, especially under your feet when you place them on another chair.
It has variety. Some of the chairs rock, and some do not. A two-seated glider is also part of the set.
We can refresh it by spray painting it every 3 years or so, making it look like new. The sustainability!
It’s whiteness looks great with the blue sky and water. Even on a cloudy day, it brings a cheerful spark to the view.
Not everyone agrees with my assessment of positive attributes. I’ve heard grumblings of it being uncomfortably hard from family and even a neighbor, who sometimes brings his own chair (quite portable!) over for a chat.
Paul and Dan, Summer afternoon, 2021.
I think Paul is all sweaty from a hot day’s bike ride, so that is why he kindly chose to sit in his own chair. But, really, a little sweat would not harm our chairs!
Before we even had a deck, we had a patio. It was paved with bricks in the backyard of our first house, at 536 S. 55th St.
Hard at work, late 1970’s.
Our furniture on this new deck was a salvaged picnic table from Grand Island’s night of 7 tornadoes on June 3, 1980. Our friends retrieved it from their parents’ house (actually found a few blocks from there) when they went to help clean up. It worked well for us!
Brandon with his cardboard creation, 1981.
Before we had this patio, we had a lawn, and as most Americans did, we sat on lightweight aluminum folding chairs, with webbed seating and backing strips. When those wore out, I unscrewed the ravelling webs, and replaced with canvas from Northwest Fabrics, a favorite hang out place for me! They were edged with white bias tape, sewn on my used Singer Touch and Sew (purchased in Iowa City, while Dan was studying there,1974).
Bryan, 1979.Brandon, 1979, and a view of the back of this kid sized chair.
Before we had these canvas chairs, I think we had a couple of those one piece, molded metal chairs, which could also be re-painted when they began to rust. I do like the look of those chairs, on a lawn especially.
Brandon, alongside an old metal lawn chair, while we were on vacation in Minnesota.
Here are a few other deck furniture sets from our younger years:
This hard plastic resin set was very longlasting. It moved to Long Island, NY with us and came back to Omaha for a happy life of many years on this deck at 1505 N. 135th St. My garden produce sits on top.This 3 piece set of ”outdoor cafe” style furniture was so much my favorite, that I used it outside of Cupcake Island, in 2006. It just fit within the city’s allowable space on the front sidewalk.A super find at the Father’s Day Weekend Antiques sale in Walnut Iowa, early 2000. Twenty one years later, it was passed on to a new owner this summer, when it was quickly snatched from the end of our driveway, set out with a big ”Take it, it’s yours!” sign.My siblings and I gifted a set of redwood furniture to our parents for their July 2 anniversary, 1981. Seen here using it on the 4th of July, are Grandpa Charles Schelle and Dan, in Mom and Dad’s backyard. It was later moved up to their deck. Note the garden!A little deck and chair for Brandon, early 1977, Shalimar Apts. Isn’t this the cutest?Sometimes, I think I like the shadows as much as the chairs. Summer, 2021.A miniature, just for fun!
A favorite Haiku:
“We are what we choose,
The people that we let stay,
The things that we keep.”
From Stephen Le @lemobilefeast, who received this from one of his hosts as he traveled the country, cooking dinner each night in a different home.
This past weekend, we had guests (family members) who love to go barefoot, and spent the whole weekend doing so. We’re kind of known for that. My dad once walked barefoot in the snow to retrieve the newspaper at the end of the driveway. And, this summer, our 19 year old granddaughter walked barefoot on the craggy stone steps going to our splintery wooden dock. I advised her not to do that, remembering another granddaughter’s “killer” spike of wood that entered her bare sole. Later, I saw her in the grass, barefoot, enjoying the de-stressing aspect of being in touch with nature, literally.
My friend, Liz, loves to drive barefoot, and I think an aunt of mine does too. Such freedom!
Here’s something I wrote on October 19, 2010, about a time when I was not ready for the switch to wearing socks:
Even in my older age (50’s), it’s barefoot time in summer. Those bare feet are in flip flops, dressy sandals, everyday walking sandals, or in nothing at all.
It’s a fabulous feeling that must come to an end every Fall in the Midwest.
Yesterday was that day for me, with a sunny high of 60. I ran my errands in sandals and knew that I looked ridiculous, wearing a lightweight jacket and heavier pants. And I had very cold feet!
Today, a dramatic storm blew through northwest Iowa. Although predicted for the general area, it came up quickly and ferociously, with winter like winds.
I loved watching it and listening to it, shutting off the TV so there were no distractions.
Later, when I went outside, I was startled to see a huge section of our ash tree on the driveway.
Sticks large and small were thrown about.
I started to pick them up, which made me recall this short essay I wrote on 9-21-2010, after another storm, in Omaha:
Whenever I see sticks on the lawn, I have to go out and pick them up. The exercise of bending over often, walking around the yard, and holding more than my hands can comfortably hold until I get to the yard waste bin, is really quite fun!
However, I always wish that the grandkids or neighborhood kids were with me, so they could enjoy this fun also (ha ha).
A few nights ago, in Omaha, we were treated to a dinner, our 2nd dinner out in the last year. It was so stimulating to be there! I’m still thinking about the conversation, atmosphere, and food, all casually elegant.
I passed on dessert until strawberry rhubarb was mentioned. I had to try it. This was the chef’s original version, not pie shaped, but somehow little bundles of strawberries and rhubarb and pastry scattered on the plate. The actual menu description was “STRAWBERRY RHUBARB TURNOVER, vanilla ice cream, almonds, mint”. Every bite was devoured and appreciated.
Mom always liked rhubarb. She tried to get her children to like it too.
“Here, try it raw”, she’d say, “dipped in sugar.” Not for me.
Then, she’d make a rhubarb sauce, like applesauce. Still, not for me.
“Maybe in a jam?” she’d offer us. No way.
“OK, then, how about strawberry rhubarb jam?” This I liked!
She may have even made a strawberry rhubarb pie, but I don’t especially remember that.
Last night, we picked up homemade pan fried chicken and sides (good gravy!) for the first time at The Gingham Inn, a take-out only place.
In Spirit Lake, IA
They had strawberry rhubarb pie on the menu. One piece came home with us. It was very good and fresh tasting!
On another summer’s day, on August 4, 2011, I wrote this about a visit to a small town Iowa cafe, and its strawberry rhubarb pie:
Driving to Lake Okoboji, I suggest that we stop in Odebolt, a town north of Denison, IA. I wanted to see the gorgeous bank building that I saw years ago. Back then, it was all boarded up, and piled with junk, as I saw through a window. Maybe now it had become a trendy, comfortable coffee shop.
Iowa Road Map
We get there and I see that it looks like a functioning bank. Dan very nicely parks the car so I can see it up close. As I open my car door, he rolls his eyes a little, wanting to keep going, I think. I explain that I have to see the inside!
Photo from Odebolt website.
It is gorgeously detailed, with gold-bronze metalwork, built in 1915 by a Chicago architectural firm. After closing in the 1930’s because of the Depression, and for several decades after, it was restored and recently put back into use.
During renovation, and an original image.
The next thing I want to find out is where we can have lunch in town. The teller says there’s a cafe on Main St. It’s one block away, so that’s where we go.
The farmers are leaving their boots outside, for a very good reason.
We go inside and I see the special on the board is strawberry rhubarb pie. I picture a fresh, 2 inch thick filling with a tender flaky crust. The waitress says there is one slice left.
“I’ll take it!” I say.
“Do you want that warmed up?”
“Yes, absolutely.” And the picture in my mind gets even more enticing.
“How about Cool Whip?”
“No, thank you”, I say, thinking how wonderful real whipped cream or ice cream would be.
Then, I ask, “Is it homemade?”
“Yes,” she says, and I can hardly wait!
Now she’s carrying it to me, and I am deflated. This little, thin piece with a thick, biscuit-like crust, and what looks like canned something or other filling is on my plate. Oh well, I’ll eat it.
But, when I took that first bite, I knew I would not eat another bite of the worst pie I’ve ever had.
Even my feelings of guilt over taking the last piece in the cafe could not make me finish it.
Dan has a saying about this: “A bad piece of pie is better than no piece of pie.” I disagree.
When I saw this Hot Wheels Postage Stamp design, I was delighted by its playfulness! It also reminded me of my mother who collected new USPS stamp offerings for her letters to family. She especially liked cancelled stamps (a hobby she picked up from her brother, Bill, she once told me). Each letter sent out had a note to “save stamp”.
All of my saved letters have the stamp cut out or torn off. My brother, Tony, inherited her stamps, along with a knack for writing letters, which also included the “save stamp” request.
Kind of messy looking letter collection, without their colorful stamps!
So, these miniature car stamps made me think of Mom (gone from earthly life since 2014), and also of a short essay I wrote on 7-18-2011:
As I look down on Omaha’s streets from our upper floor , east facing condo on 31st Ave, I am reminded of Matchbox cars, because that’s what the vehicles look like down below. Many colored cars, trucks, emergency vehicles, business vans, police cars, and buses drive by on their merry way.
Dodge and Turner Blvd and Douglas (2021 photo, 7AM)
As a fan of miniatures (furniture, cars, models), I have always liked Matchbox cars at the toy store. I would pick them up occasionally for our young kids.
Once, I remember a garage sale that had a carrying case with many “matchbox” and “hot wheel” cars.
1968 Case
The price was $40.00. I wanted it badly, for the kids, but also for myself. I did not get it—too expensive and frivolous, I thought.
But now, I think I’ll still look for a used, played with collection just like that at today’s yard sales.
That was then, in 2011.
Now, in 2021, I’m continuing to downsize and minimize. I don’t need toys. However, I do like history, and art. Here are a few interesting photos on this mini car topic, found online.
It would have been fun to purchase or receive these little boxes, in a Christmas stocking, or Easter basket.Artist Ross Palmer Beecher’s “Square License Plate Quilt”, 61” by 61”, 2014, with cutouts for little cars.Detail of “Square License Plate Quilt”.Ross Palmer Beecher, “Hot Wheels Car Quilt Study”, 2013-2014, with silver backs of license plates.
On Writing, On Life 