Dick Gibb - Blog

Little Scandinavia

dick.gibb@prudentialambassador.com — Tue, 10 Jul 2012 00:00:00 GMT

Ever been caught up in a culture so unique and lovely that you wished you could claim it as your own heritage? Elkhorn, Nebraska may not strike you as a rich, ethnic area, but a little shop on Main Street will convince you otherwise. Little Scandinavia wraps the warmth of hospitality around you as soon as you walk through the door. With a pot of coffee always brewing and a selection of crisp, ginger cookies arranged on a silver tray, you can get lost in the ambiance.

A family owned and run business makes you feel as if you are a part of it, though I myself can only come as close as northern Germany in geographical ethnicity. The shop is filled with delightful trinkets, tea settings, Viking décor, family photographs, and a very good sense of humor. Not only do I linger there wishing I could share some part of this Scandinavian identity, but I also leave wishing for more friends of the same background to shop for or with whom to share this little treasure.

A book shelf full of books for sale and a big, comfy couch invite you to stay, visit awhile or read.

I strongly recommend a stop. It’s a chance to rest, to laugh, to learn of another world and to be warmly welcomed in yourself. Tell Leonna I said hello.

Little Scandinavia

2619 North Main Street

Elkhorn, NE 68022

July 4th Memories

dick.gibb@prudentialambassador.com — Tue, 03 Jul 2012 00:00:00 GMT

Fireworks and cookouts, bug spray and yard games, potato salad and some kind of patriotic jello creation mark will my 4th of July celebration like many other Americans. This year, is something special though. We have more to remember, more to be thankful for and more to hope for.

Two years ago this July 4^th, my brother got married. It was a crash course in wedding planning as my sister, sister-in-law-to-be and I power walked the mall in order to assemble some kind of wedding ceremony – dresses, shoes, a gown, a veil, manicures, and even some time for appetizers as my sister-in-law expressed her fears of my brother’s deployment to come only a few days after the wedding. A few family members gathered in their basement to witness their exchange of vows. The newlyweds then changed – my brother out of his dress uniform, my sister-in-law out of her wedding gown – and served burgers and brats and wedding cake. We waited for the fireworks to begin. As they exploded in the night sky, glistening off of the bride’s tear-filled eyes, we all feared for my brother’s latest (the 3^rd) deployment, this time to Afghanistan.

One year ago this July 4^th, my sister-in-law celebrated her first anniversary without her husband. Only a few days earlier, she had received a call that the truck he was driving had struck an I.E.D. (Improvised Explosive Device). The truck was totaled, one soldier was carried out with a concussion and would later lose his legs, one soldier walked away stunned and my brother, with a severely broken leg and ankle. For several days, we did not know what country he was in as the military made arrangements for surgery. Though I came to comfort my sister-in-law and be with her on their first anniversary, she again served me the traditional 4th of July feast – potato salad, burgers and brats. Her eyes filled with tears again as fireworks filled the night sky.

This July 4^th, my brother and his wife will spend together with their 3 month old daughter. He boasts of 9 pins in his ankle now, but gets around just fine and will no doubt be helping my sister-in-law grill a fine celebratory feast for their first anniversary together. We have much to thank God for, besides the potato salad, food, fun and fireworks.

Have a happy and safe 4th of July. Spend it with those you love.

Cherry Nut Ice Cream

dick.gibb@prudentialambassador.com — Tue, 05 Jun 2012 00:00:00 GMT

While Father’s Day is still a couple of weeks away, Dads are typically very hard to shop for. Over the course of Father’s Day celebrations, Christmases, Birthdays and other gift-giving events, I’ve learned not to ask what my dad wants. It will not be met with any kind of practical answer.

Food, however, always brings a smile to his face, and the expression of love is in the creativity of the gift or in the effort it takes to find it.

My dad has loved butter brickle, rocky road and cherry nut ice cream ever since I can remember. Coming in from a hot day of working in the field, he piles a bowl high with whatever flavor he has on hand. Cherry nut ice cream, however, has become increasingly difficult for him to find. It’s a rare treat when he can have it, but he doesn’t have the time to look.

Omaha’s eCreamery located on 5001Underwood Avenue has saved me this year. This unique shop and even more unique website offers the option of creating your own flavor, personalizing your pint, naming your creation and even shipping it to the more remote corners of the country, or in my case, the state.

Online at www.eCreamery.com, you can subscribe to a “Month Club,” create personalized party or wedding flavors, pick your occasion for sending ice cream, create your flavor, or even send gift cards.

I am impressed by my early preparedness for Father’s Day this year, and my dad will love it!

Remembering

dick.gibb@prudentialambassador.com — Tue, 29 May 2012 00:00:00 GMT

Memorial Day has just passed, and what was supposed to be a day for remembering, seems like a day I forgot.

I remembered to get home for the holiday, and too hurry with getting ice cubes put in the tea, chips in the bowl and tomatoes and onions sliced to top the burgers we would serve to our family for the gathering. I usually remember to bring my old trumpet home to play Taps at my grandfather’s grave too, but I forgot it. I also meant simply to stop at my grandparents’ grave to pay my respects, but I forgot that too. They rest there in silence and don’t even whisper a request for my attention. I rushed by the cemetery twice that day, so used to the peripheral of that monument on the hill, that I didn’t remember this year to stop.

I remember my grandfather’s laugh and the lines of wrinkles on his face; I remember the day of his death, though, better than I remember the day of his birth. I don’t remember all of the places my grandfather served during World War II, I just remember that he served honorably.

Remembering, I guess, seemed like work, and this was supposed to be a holiday.

Today, getting back to work after a long weekend, traffic horns resound more than usual. Impatience and weariness runs high, and I regret not saying goodbye the last time I saw him alive. There is so much hurry and so many other sounds in the city, I missed taking in the simplicity of their black gravestone, the bright marigolds planted around it and the sound of the wind and the flapping of flags decorating the graves of those who served.

To revere him in a blog post can’t quite measure up to the memories I miss of my grandfather, but here’s to helping those who read this to keep hold of their own.

God Bless