Holidaze posted by Janet

We have just returned to Boston after spending a week in Kansas for Christmas. I took my nieces and nephews out on two trips to local bookstores for what has become my holiday tradition: we spend an afternoon browsing and talking about books, often over a hot cup of cocoa or tea. Together we whittle down their selections to one (or sometimes two!). Then I take the books home, wrap them up and pass them out on Christmas Eve when we exchange family presents. I like being the Book Aunt!

I try to follow the 90/10 rule when giving advice about their selections: 90% based on their reading pleasure and 10% of my deeply passionate beliefs about what they should be reading. It is sometimes tempting to impose my reading habits, but I know such selfishness could actually cause them to dislike my choices AND reading. So I give in a bit or a whole lot.

I arrived in KS on the Sunday before Christmas and spent the week book shopping and hanging out with family. L. arrived on Wednesday night and my parents took us out to Montana Grill, owned by Ted Turner and famous for selling the bison meat raised on a ranch miles from the restaurant. Bison is good--tasty and the product of my home state (see my food philosophy).

Friday we rose with the sun and headed off with my parents and M. for a day trip across the plains of western KS. The sun rising over the wild prairie grasses, especially in the Sand Hills, never fails to be awesome. It was a four-hour drive to Damar, KS, where my mother grew up. We stopped to see the Garden of Eden in Lucas, KS and for pie and coffee in their diner (where smoking is still allowed--not that we smoke, but it seems important to convey the essence of the place).

Damar is an unassuming place with a gorgeous church. We made a waffle brunch with eggs cooked in bacon fat before we headed out for a walking tour of the town. We even had time for cousin Brenda to cut L.’s hair. Did you know that there are feral hogs in KS? I had just read about them in the New Yorker. Turns out our cousin’s husband had killed a 350 pound one last year. The trophy dear heads mounted on their living room wall confirmed his prowess.

After another round of coffee, we headed back to the car for a return trip with a view of the setting sun. Why the long drive? I wanted L. to see my mother’s town.

Christmas Eve all the siblings—except the youngest who is wandering around Brazil—met at the church for the 4 o’clock children’s service. Our family took up about 4 or 5 rows and made a fair amount of extra-liturgical noise and activity. After mass we all returned to my parent’s house. Christmas Eve dinner for 25 is a bit much and we have some finicky eaters to account for. In years past we have all eaten at McDonald’s (the shame!) or ordered pizza. After much menu discussion I was put in charge of making chili and baked potatoes with various other toppings. It was a hit. Kids ate. Adults ate. Happily too.

Then the good stuff: We all gathered in our living room (you have to imagine lots of squirming little bodies) to listen as Grandpa read the Christmas Story. This year Anna cuddled up next to him and “helped” him read. There was a stillness as he read the story. Perhaps it was the quiet before the storm of gift giving. After the story, we all shared how we spent our $100 in remembrance of our Grandma Kelley, my dad’s mother. Then we gathered our gifts to be donated in a large Santa sack. Finally, it was time to exchange family gifts. The wrapping paper was deep very soon.

This year Matt made us all caramels, Kathleen made us candied popcorn, Sarah crocheted white delicate ornaments and angels, Margaret made us rich (with lottery tickets!), and I gave the others a set of tea mugs. Presents galore!

Sunday morning we awoke to Santa’s gifts and then started to work on the Christmas Lunch. (I mostly "worked" on lunch by staying out of the kitchen.) At one o’clock we all gathered again (this time minus a few cousins) for turkey, goat (a new tradition as of last year, locally grown by the Amish), mashed potatoes, dumplings, stuffing, meat dressing, squash, and cranberry sauce. Then. . . Matt’s pies: apple (so light, crisp and fragrant), pecan, and pumpkin.

Christmas weather was a balmy 60 degrees. After that big meal it was divine to walk around the neighborhood and see the colors of the setting sun change the prairie grass from gold to pink and back again.

Just a few highlights from our holiday in KS!

And I didn’t even mention the NuWay!

Do you know what Schamber means?

What does the Schamber name mean?

It is a nickname for shy, bashful person and comes from Middle High German schambære meaning ‘modest’ or ‘bashful’

Hhmmmm....

Update From Peter

Hey Everyone,

Its been awhile but we have updated the wedding site with some pictures and info.

So if you get a chance check it out!

Peter and Lisa's Website

One Thanksgiving

Dear all, Here is an account of my Thanksgiving weekend. It was out of the ordinary for me this year. I was the only American (even though we were in Boston) and there was no turkey OR dumplings...can you imagine? Read on......

It was a Thanksgiving to remember. . .especially in the past few days as my pants grow tighter through the hips and sweatpants tempt me as a viable fashion statement. The invention of elastic waistbands may be the doom of us all.

We headed up to the shore early on Thursday afternoon to join friends for Thanksgiving dinner. Although snow was forecast, it was sunny despite the chill. Near three o'clock we set off for a short hike along the coastline and scaled impressive granite rocks along the cold shore. A bit of exercise to prime the gut for the feast, so to speak.

Cheese--at least six varieties from France and Portugal and Vermont--with fresh white crusted bread and olives took the edge off after the walk. Then, just for fun, we had a round of freshly sautéed shrimp. This was followed by a round of mussels--prepared Belgium style. I should note that two cooks vied for our affections. One dish followed by another, just for fun, to see which cook could garner our praises.

While we waited for various things to simmer, D. (the ten-year-old and the only one there under the age of twenty five) got us going in a fiercely competitive card game: Spoons. The Cuban soon declared that there should be a punishment for whoever loses three times. He claimed that card games in Cuba always have punishments. We were game. M., the world class scientist, soon had to succumb to his punishment: sitting on the floor, he propped himself on his hands and feet and had to use his raised bum to trace the numbers 0 - 9. This was the Cuban's idea. It was genius and absolutely hilarious. I'm sure it burned some calories too--which is always good between courses.

A thick and steaming vegetable soup course was served at the table. Before the soup we had been milling around, eating at the kitchen island and enjoying the sunset through the wide expanse of windows.

Then a small salmon course with vegetables. Just for fun. It was sumptuous. I know we are supposed to eat more salmon--it has various healthy attributes, but this course felt too decadent to be healthy.

Finally we arrived at the main course: pheasants cooked in cream sauce with endives and a side of mashed potatoes. L. was in charge of the mashing. It was quite a sight to see M. and L. busy with their kitchen tools and mystified by the blown fuse. It was my first taste of pheasant and endives. The pheasant was quite mild, moist and decidedly ungamish. The endives were slightly bitter, but just to my liking.

Then we took a break. We sipped wine and rested near the crackling fire.

Finally we dug into sweet potato/pumpkin pie, pecan pie, and at least three other homemade desserts. It was over the top, to say the least.

We stayed up until at least one a.m. enjoying chatter and wine and the toasty fire. Finally, exhausted and heavy with food and sleep we headed off to our bedrooms. Luckily the house was built for a big extended family to vacation and so we all got a comfy beds with views to the ocean to wake to in the morning.

I paired my indulgent eating with a guilty reading pleasure: The Rule of Fourby Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason. It is a Dan Brownish thriller, but easy going. I admit that I gave up even my daily dose of news in order to indulge in this one--taking breaks only for necessary naps. I also enjoyed finishing Dai Sijie's Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress, which my book club read for November. Both of these little jewels will be set forth in Boston soon as part of Bookcrossing.com.

Currently I am reading William Gaddis' Carpenter's Gothic (which turns out to be less strange than I had hoped). My night table book is Exodus by Leon Uris. I am also reading one story a day or so from The Scribner Anthology of Contemporary Short Fiction and I have just checked out from the Boston Public Library a copy of The Working Poor by David K. Shipler.

In between reading and eating, we also took time over the long holiday weekend to visit the important new exhibit at the Boston Museum of Science: Star Wars: Where Science Meets Imagination. It was too crowded and the lighting could have been handled more effectively BUT we loved it. Do you know how they made Luke's spacecraft hover? I do! After nearly three hours building robots and learning about magnetic trains, we headed off to the North End to find a cozy Italian restaurant with plates of pasta and then a cafe for plates of pastry. I know, all that on top of the feast I already described. . . today, it is back to the gym!

Oh! And just for posterity's sake. . .and future torte buying. . check out The Empire Torte and the special "reserve torte." Talk about decadence.

If you have time, send me or Carolyn (who can publish on the blog as well) an accont of your Thanksgiving so that we can post it. In fact, if YOU want to be able to publish directly onto this blog, just email me and I can add you. (Clink on the link below and send your request via "comment" if you don't have my email.)

best,

j.k.kelley

Letter from a Kelley in Chile

Written by Carolyn, edited by Janet:

Hello Family!

I am enjoying the last day of a nice 4 day weekend. Today is a religious
holiday in Chile, so our school gave us Monday off as well. I flew up to
the north of Chile to a place called San Pedro de Atacama. It's a desert.
In the past few days I have climbed sand dunes, walked up to the edge of
geysers, seen beautiful flamencos and explored salt flats. Yesterday we
crossed over the border into Bolivia and went to a lagoon called Laguna
Colorada. It may have been the most amazing thing I have ever seen. The
lagoon was turned to a deep color of red (when the wind blows the minerals
from the bottom come to the surface and change the color). The lagoon was
covered with flamencos. It was awesome!

We ran into a few problems after that. Our jeep broke down on the way home
and we ended up having to flag someone down and beg them to take us back to
the border (as the sun was going down and we were starting to get really
cold). We sat in the car for 3 hours and I really thought a couple of times
that nobody was going to pass by and that we were going to see the end of
our days in the desert. Luckily I was with my three friends and a random
French couple we got paired up with for the tour. We all stayed calm and
now it's a funny story, but yesterday we weren't laughing so much. Did I
mention that we broke down at an altitude of almost 5,000 meters high. We
all had headaches and were short of breath! Oh, South America! The
adventures never stop!

The last problem was getting back across the border without passports. We
didn't bring them from Santiago and I think our tour company made some sort
of deal with the border patrol to let us go through. It's all over now and
I am telling this story with a smile on my face! Don't worry mom and dad, I
promise not to cross any more borders without my passport!

Anyways, I must go now. I am in an internet cafe now and am being charged a
fortune, but I just wanted to say hello.

P.S. Pictures of the red lagoon to follow!

Lecture: Elie Wiesel

Submitted by Janet Kelley:
originally published at Write Now: Lecture: Elie Wiesel

Sometime around seventh grade I read Elie Wiesel’s Night. I was fascinated by Holocaust stories and devoured everything I could find about that time. It was my first introduction to mass evil and the Jewish people.

I am the product of years—1st grade through graduate school—of Catholic education. Back in my hometown in my Catholic junior high school, I never met a Jew. I don’t think I did until college. Even as I learned about Jewish culture and Hebrew Scriptures I still lacked the personal element. When I did think about Jews, I saw them as victims. While this is sympathetic, I still also thought of them as “other.” Two recent experiences have changed my stance.

Last Friday L. and I were invited to Sabbath dinner at the house of his colleague. It was the first time I had been invited into a home that observes the Sabbath. I was a bit nervous, but not any more nervous than when I have to meet anyone for the first time. Sure enough it was a delightful family and their children and I talked about books and played War (the endless card game). We didn’t have time to get to Spoons. The hospitality they shared with us had been cultivated and nourished, and we reaped the blessings.

Tonight I went to Boston University to hear Elie Wiesel speak. His talk was one of three in a series labeled “The Fascination with Jewish Tales.” Doors opened in Metcalf Hall at 6pm for the 7pm lecture. I thought that he was going to speak at the BU bookstore at 5:30, but it turns out that that event was only a book signing. Even though I had already gotten in the soon-to-be long line to have his newest book, The Time of the Uprooted, signed, I opted to head down to the lecture. I wanted to see his face as he spoke. I got my wish.

I was in the first wave to enter the hall and made my way to stage left, second row, fourth seat from the center aisle. As it happened, Wiesel arrived early and then stayed late just feet from my seat. He is a small man with a lively face and a halo of silver hair. He was dressed comfortably in a navy blazer, light blue button down and a navy tie. His thick Hungarian accent was music—he was born in Transylvania.

Steven Katz, Director of the Elie Wiesel Center for Judaic Studies at Boston University, introduced Wiesel. He stood at the podium and boomed his brief comments to introduce Wiesel as the final talk in a conference entitled “Reconsidering The Protocols of the Elders of Zion: 100 Years After the Forgery.” Katz cut an impressive figure at the podium and when Wiesel took the stage and sat at a wooden table provided for him, he perched on the edge of his seat, crossed his ankles and leaned into his papers ready to do the opposite of boom.

The Protocols of the Elders of Zion is a forged document, utterly false, published at the turn of the century that pretends to be a series of notes, lectures and plans written by Jewish leaders in the Diaspora whose plan is simple: world domination. As Wiesel noted, any intelligent person who reads it will be horrified at the hate and ignorance in its pages. Yet the document was used and is still used in our times to justify anti-Semitism. Henry Ford published the Protocols in his own company newspaper, with a circulation of 200,000 and had 300,000 copies published as a book. Today fanatic Muslims read it with as much fervor as they dedicate to the Koran.

Wiesel sat calmly as he recounted what is known about the origin of the document and how it has been received over the past 100 years. Occasionally he swept his right hand up and through his hair to make a point. It is not possible to track down the exact place or even language of origin. Perhaps we should be more concerned, he suggested, with how it has been received, how it has been used as a weapon of hate in our world.

It has survived and flourished precisely because it is easy for the world to entertain a conspiracy theory to explain how the Jews have survived down through centuries of hate. It has survived because the Christian myth inherited both the notion of a Jewish monotheistic God as well as the myth that the Jews destroyed their God. Christians, over time, have remembered and relived only the consequences of the second part of the myth. To paraphrase Wiesel: The Jews gave us God and God’s murderer, but now only the second part is the Jewish legacy.

The existence of the Protocols helped me to understand the great fear of Zionism I had come across in history books over the years. The fact that people’s fears, condensed in a conspiracy theory, were actually written down turned a fear into mandate for hate.

Wiesel’s speech built up to his theme: hate empowered by words. Literature, with a few exceptions, is creative and therefore can not be created from hate. Among many examples, Wiesel mentioned that Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet survives as literature because it is not only about civil strife and warring families, but about innocent, desperate love. The Protocols, even though it has been published as a book, survives not because it is literature, but because it uses words as weapons. The weak, the fearful cling to these words and find those hateful words coming out of their own mouths. If you want to understand hatred, Wiesel said, study its language. The Protocols is a prime example.

Wiesel concluded his speech by clearly stating that Jews do not want to dominate the world or conquer it, they want to redeem it. When the messiah comes, Jews do not expect everyone to become Jewish. They do want more hospitality, people to be more human and open to what is noble in all of us.

He finished on that resonant note, and didn’t take questions. The audience applauded and a line immediately formed to kiss him on both cheeks, embrace him, fumble out words of praise and thanks. A young student asked him to autograph Night and said, “You are such an inspiration. You probably hear that all the time.”

He replied, “No, I don’t” and returned her book as he looked her in the eye and smiled while his brawny bodyguard hovered nearby.

I could have asked him to sign my freshly purchased The Time of the Uprooted, but I held back and just observed him and how people moved around him. Those who knew him were relaxed. His fans were respectful. One woman murmured to her companion, “This is such an honor to be here.” He is “one of the great men of our century.”

A jeans-clad student, perhaps one of the many required by their professors to attend, emphatically told her friend, “I am going straight back to the library.”

“Me too,” her friend affirmed.

Wiesel slowly greeted as many fans as he could, then took his leave. I did too.

The walk home was unseasonably warm for a Halloween night.

I don’t know what I could have said to him if I had waited in line, but I do know that his lecture has made me more aware of the way words can be powerful weapons of mass destruction, words alone.

Update from the Dog Shows

Written by Kathleen, posted by Janet:

Hello all. Geez, I have gone from avidly checking me e-mail a couple of times every day to being lucky if I check it once every other day! Of course, I am still clinging to my cheep dial-up service, and I have 2 teenagers and a husband to compete for computer time with!

Here is how I spent my weekend. Amanda and I left after lunch on Friday to travel to Kansas City for the first ever National 4-H Dog Agility Show. It was held at the Kansas City Royal, this huge facility on the Missouri side. Amanda was the only representative of Sedgwick County. We went with some friends from Kingman county and stayed over night in a hotel. I must admit that the 4 of us behaved liked little girls at a slumber party. We giggled and laughed and carried on and really didn't sleep a whole lot. Then Amanda and Ashley competed on Saturday.

Amanda got a perfect 200 score which means they determine the winner based on the time she took to complete the course. She ended up in third place because 2 other dogs (with much longer legs than Cubby's!) ran it faster. Then she competed with the top 10 and got third again! Both times Cubby ran the course in 49 seconds with a perfect 200 score!! She did great. Her friend Ashley competed in Agility 2 and did well but didn't place. We left Kansas City about 9:00 PM on Saturday and got home at 1:00 AM. We were sooooooooooo tired! Then we were busy with church and 4-H stuff all day Sunday so I am still feeling groggy! Dave and the other kids had a good weekend and picked out pumpkins and did some other fun things while we were gone.

Next weekend, Christopher, Amanda, Kristin and I will all be attending dog conference at Rock Springs Ranch. Dave will have Anna all to himself all day Saturday and Sunday! They are already planning a trip to the zoo as well as Toys R Us!

Family in South Bend

Uncle Frank, Zach, Matt, Lovella and Ron hit South Bend ready to enjoy every minute of the Notre Dame Football weekend and made it home exhausted, I'm sure, but with stories to tell.

It was a good game (Notre Dame beat BYU), pretty decent weather (some rain), lots of good food, and Zach was absolutely thrilled. He got his ticket signed by Chinadum Ndukwe (Defense, number 81) and Lovella bought him a football at the bookstore. On Sunday morning they all went to the pancake house, Bibler's, of course, for breakfast, and there was a table full of football players there. Thank goodness L. had bought the football for Zach. He got his ball autographed by Jeff Samardzija, (Wide Receiver, number 83) ) also known as "The Shark." It was fun seeing him so excited.

Charlie Weis

Promise keeper: the last wish of a dying boy
By: Terry Moran
Date: October 2, 2005
From: World News Tonight (ABC News)

(Off Camera) Finally tonight, keeping a promise. There are many great stories about the Fighting Irish of the University of Notre Dame. Stories that wake up the echoes, as the song goes. This is another one. It's a story about a dying boy and his last wish. He wanted to call a play for the Irish football team, in a real game. ESPN's Tom Rinaldi tells us what happened.

TOM RINALDI, ESPN: Almost from the day he was given his name, Montana, after Joe Montana, Montana Mazurkiewicz grew up watching Notre Dame football. From the day he was diagnosed with a brain tumor a year and a half ago, he kept watching. And last week, he asked if a player from the team could visit him at home. The head coach came instead.

MOTHER: The coach walked right past me. And he said, hi, I am Charlie Weis, and Montana's eyes just lit up.

CHARLIE WEIS, NOTRE DAME HEAD COACH: You're looking at a kid that you know is not going to make it. I thought my job was to do all I could to get a smile on his face.

MOTHER: The coach just asked him, what would you, what would you like to do? Would you like to call a play? And Montana said, I'd like to call the first offensive play. Charlie Weis says, well, do you want me to run or pass? And he goes, pass to the right. Not just pass, pass to the right. And the coach just kind of broke out in a sweat, you know?

TOM RINALDI: Just a day and a half after the visit, Montana died in his mother's arms. He was ten years old.

MOTHER: I just held him and sang him the stupid Notre Dame fight song, and then, some other songs that my daughter had written. And I just told him he could rest, it was time to stop fighting, that he could rest now, and that he was my hero.

TOM RINALDI: A day later, the family watched as Notre Dame played. For its first offensive play of the game, the ball rested inside the Notre Dame one yard line.

MOTHER: No way. He's not going to pass it. He's not gonna do it. He can't, he can't make that play.

CHARLIE WEIS: I said, well, we don't have a choice. I said, it's not whether we're going to do it, we don't have a choice, run the play.

ANNOUNCER, MALE: Play action for Quinn. Throws, wide-open, (inaudible). The tight end with a hurdle. Provided a first down.

TOM RINALDI: The play went for 13 yards, but reached much farther, all the way to a family in Indiana, a family in grief.

MOTHER: It was the fact that coach Weis kept his word. That was the big thing, that he kept his word in an almost impossible situation to a ten year-old kid that he didn't even know.

TOM RINALDI: Last Sunday, Weis returned to the house and gave the family the game ball, signed by the entire team. But he knows and they know, it's about more than football. For ABC News, Tom Rinaldi, ESPN.

TERRY MORAN(Off Camera) Pass to the right.TERRY MORAN(Off Camera) That's our report. Tomorrow on "Good Morning America," more on the Lake George boat accident.

TERRY MORAN(Off Camera) I'm Terry Moran. For all of us at ABC News, have a good week. Good night.

Kansas Sate Fair and Garrison Keillor

Here are some shots we took while touring the Kansas State Fair and watching Garrison Keillor perform the Prairie Home Companion. Afterwards we all headed to the Anchor Inn to eat enchiladas to our hearts' content!

Welcome to the Schamber Line Blog!

Hello All!

As some of you may know, I have taken a year-long leave of absence from my job as a High School English teacher. L. and I have moved to Boston, where he is on sabbatical at the Dana- Farber Cancer Institute. I am. . .well I am an English teacher on vacation who spends her time writing fiction and keeping up my new personal Blog. A blog is short for "web log" and is a website that can be used (at no charge) to publish personal writing. Visit mine if you want to see an example. jkkelleywritenow.blogspot.com

Since I am an English teacher with free time on my hands, I thought I would try to encourage the family to start using a blog. Thus I have created this site: schamberline.blogspot.com

How will it work???? Well you have already been doing the "work" by writing emails about your lives and sending them to our mass mail list. I can take those emails and post them here. Or, even better, you can compose a paragraph or two (or ten) and send them to me at hutchkelley5@gmail.com. I will add them to our blog. Of course you can send photos too!!! Please be sure to include your name, and where you currently live (town is fine).

Write about current events...memories...dreams...jokes....recipes...new babies...holiday traditions...stories about your kids of any age...politics....dare I say religion????

One caution: the blog is "semi-private." In other words, it can be accessed by anyone BUT they would have to know the web address. If you googled "schamberline" most likely the search engine could not find it. But you should write with an idea that it is public and only post photos that you consider public. Also, you should probably avoid street addresses and the like.

Can't wait.

Janet Kelley