Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Frogs cast an enchanting spell in my sister’s Minnesota garden August 5, 2010

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One of the many frogs tucked among the flowers and plants in my sister's yard.

MY SISTER LANAE really doesn’t need a frog. She found and married her prince nine years ago.

Yet, she’s fallen hard for a bunch of frogs (technically an army of frogs) and a few toads. They’ve invaded her yard, taken over fountains and flower beds, bird baths and blossoms, and she’s welcomed them.

They’re all part of her plan, her grand plan to cast an envious spell (in my opinion) upon all who enter the enchanting world that is her backyard.

Now, you may think I’m exaggerating, playing this up, maybe even waving my own magical wand over you. But I’m not. My sister, the floral designer, has subtly tucked some 20 frogs and toads and other sweet little surprises into her gardens.

I marvel at her attention to detail, her designs, her intriguing way of naturally melding collectibles with the plants and flowers she has carefully selected, blended, nurtured. Her creations beckon visitors to pause, to really look, to delight in her artistry, for she is every bit an artist. Her yard is her canvas for the beautiful floral scenes she paints.

Last Sunday, during the Waseca Garden Club Garden Walk, folks noticed what I’ve known about my sister for decades. She colors outside the lines. She dares to make horses pink, cows purple. She is a strong, opinionated, determined, talented woman.

As I photographed Lanae’s vignettes, I eavesdropped, heard the praise, the ooohing and the aaahing, the exclaiming over her creations.

She deserves the gushing words—every single kudo, every single utterance of praise, every compliment—for she gardens with passion, with a love for the earth, with a heart for creating that which is absolutely, undeniably, beautiful.

Lanae created a lovely memory garden in honor of her friend, Vicki Andrejewski, who died in September 2009. Vicki's purple bird bath centers the garden, planted in her favorite colors of lime green and purple.

This gem-covered bowling ball drew the attention of visitors. Lanae applied "gems" to the recycled bowling ball using E6000 glue. The shimmering ball rests in Vicki's bird bath.

A bird bath accents a cluster of sedum. To the right, in the back, Lanae has rooted plants inside a birdcage-style terrarium.

Look closely and you'll discover a tiny frog tucked inside this birdcage terrarium.

I saw a boy grab these squishy frogs from a bird bath and then playfully toss them back into the water.

Using chicken wire and wood, Lanae created a wall garden. She planted hen 'n chicks, creeping Jenny, Mezoo trailing red Dorotheanthus, two types of sedum and two types of thyme and leaned the box against a tree.

A sizable toad lounges under a shade tree next to a Firecracker begonia.

Fairy tale mushrooms brighten foliage in a shady garden spot.

A dreamy blue ball set upon a pedestal accents a bed of blue salvia.

A colorful frog perches, almost naturally, in a gurgling fountain.

Lanae's yard was picture perfect for the garden tour, right down to the summery place setting on her patio table.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

“Little House on the Prairie” originated as a book series, remember August 4, 2010

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A Laura look-alike climbs onto a covered wagon at the Laura Ingalls Wilder Pageant site near Walnut Grove recently.

WHENEVER THE TOPIC of “Little House on the Prairie” surfaces, folks cannot believe that I know the stories from the books and not the television show.

But years before the long-running TV series aired, in a school in a small town some 20 miles north of Walnut Grove, my teacher read, yes, read, Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books to me and my classmates daily after lunch. I have fond memories of sitting there in my desk at Vesta Elementary School raptly listening to Mrs. Kotval read of the Ingalls family’s life on the prairie, my prairie.

At the time, back in the mid-1960s, I simply loved hearing the mesmerizing accounts of prairie fires and of blizzards, of fiddle-playing and of grasshopper plagues, of mean Nellie Oleson and of kind, kind Mary, Laura’s older sister. Wilder’s descriptive writing drew me in—into the dug-out, onto the seat of the covered wagon, into the country school. Simply put, I adored the Little House books.

A prairie fire scene from the Laura Ingalls Wilder Pageant, presented every July at a hillside amphitheater along the banks of Plum Creek near Walnut Grove. I've seen the pageant three times in its 33-year history.

Honestly, I don’t recall my teacher emphasizing that neighboring Walnut Grove, the Ingalls’ family home from 1874 – 1876 and from 1877- 1879, was the setting for On the Banks of Plum, Creek. Truly, what mattered most to me was the telling of a good story to which I felt connected.

You would think then, given my early exposure to the Little House books, that I would have become a devoted fan of the television series. I wasn’t. The show aired in September 1974, my first year of college. I had no time for TV then or in the years that followed.

However, I recall seeing an episode or two or three. Of those I remember only the inaccuracies of mountains in Walnut Grove and of day-trips to Mankato. Despite the producers’ clear lack of prairie-landscape and geographic-distance knowledge, they offered good, wholesome family entertainment that has endeared generations, just not me.

I remain unimpressed by the hoopla over the television series and the big to-do about those, like Michael Landon (Charles “Pa” Ingalls) and Melissa Gilbert (Laura Ingalls), who starred on the show.

It is the books, the writing of Laura Ingalls Wilder, that impress me, that take me back to elementary school days, when my teacher gave me the gift of reading.

Years later I would pass that gift along to my daughters by reading the Little House books to them. Even as preschoolers they would snuggle against me on the couch, leaning in close as page after page I read of prairie fires and of blizzards, of fiddle-playing and of grasshopper plagues, of mean Nellie Oleson and of kind, kind Mary, Laura’s older sister.

I worry that today’s generation is growing up without that intimate knowledge of Wilder’s writing, accepting instead the embellished Hollywood version of life on the prairie. Even my 8 ½ and 12-year-old nieces, who recently attended the Laura Ingalls Wilder Pageant, “Fragments of a Dream,” in Walnut Grove with me and other family members, had not read the books. I was surprised, disappointed even.

I mourn that loss of connection to the written word, that ability to create, to envision, to perceive, yes, to imagine a scene, a setting, a place, simply through reading.

For 33 years, Walnut Grove area residents have presented the Laura Ingalls Wilder Pageant based on Wilder's stories. I've found the pageant to be true to the books, the acting superb, the setting beautiful.

Devoted "Little House" fans come to the pageant dressed in prairie dresses and bonnets.

Amy Van Dorsten, 15, played the coveted role of mean and spiteful Nellie Oleson in this year's pageant. My niece Cortney insisted on getting Nellie's autograph after the performance.

A covered wagon near the pageant grounds entrance provides photo ops for Little house fans like my nieces.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Fredrickson’s book presents field work, past and present August 3, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:41 AM
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ONCE UPON A TIME, I told my farmer-dad I wanted to be a farmer when I grew up. Clearly, I became a writer instead of a tender of the land or of animals. But my heart remains rooted in the southwestern Minnesota prairie, my childhood home, the place where I worked in the barns, worked in the fields and became the person I am today.

For those reasons I particularly appreciate children’s picture books like those written by Lakeville author Gordon W. Fredrickson who specializes in writing about country life and farming.

His second, If I Were a Farmer book, Field Work, recently released from Beaver’s Pond Press, just in time for Minnesota’s annual celebration of agriculture, Farmfest. Fredrickson and his wife, Nancy, will be in the Craft/toy/home and garden pavilion during Farmfest’s three-day run this week at the Gilfillan Estate between Morgan and Redwood Falls. The event opens at 8 a.m. today.

That pitch aside, let me tell you a bit about Fredrickson. He grew up on a Scott County dairy farm, did his share of farm chores and working the land, farmed for awhile as an adult and taught high school English. He possesses the experience, knowledge, skills and passion to write about agriculture in an interesting, informative and, sometimes, humorous fashion.

Fredrickson’s subtle humor shines in Field Work as page by opposite page, he compares past farming practices and farm equipment to modern-day farming practices and equipment.

His book reconnects me to the past, to those years on the farm. So for that reason, Fredrickson’s story also appeals to adults, particularly former farm kids.

For those unfamiliar with agriculture through the years, Fredrickson’s story provides a history lesson. He even includes a glossary (per my suggestion after publication of an earlier book) to further aid readers in understanding the equipment and other terminology used in his story.

From working the soil through planting and harvesting, this former farmer details the growing season via would-be farmers. Little Nancy imagines herself as a modern-day farmer while Tommy prefers older equipment and practices from about the 1950s. Children, especially those ages 6 – 8, will enjoy the storyline and the educational content woven into it.

I don’t want to spoil the ending for you, but the humorous clincher last page clearly shows me that Fredrickson, even though an award-winning writer now, is a true mustard-pulling, rock-picking, scoop-shoveling farm boy at heart.

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IN ADDITION TO FIELD WORK, Fredrickson has also published If I Were a Farmer: Nancy’s Adventure and three books in the Farm Country Tales series–Christmas Eve, Halloween and Thanksgiving.

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FIELD WORK ILLUSTRATOR David H. Jewell of Minneapolis died on July 15 after being hospitalized for pneumonia. He suffered from diabetes and related complications.

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JUST FOR FUN, I asked Redwood County historian and Redwood Falls Mayor Gary Revier if he had any old farm photos he could share for publication on this post. He obliged and here are just three of the many he e-mailed. These hearken back to the days of horse-drawn machinery, even earlier than the time period covered in Fredrickson’s Field Work.

This threshing scene is near my hometown of Vesta in southwestern Minnesota, in Redwood County, home to Farmfest. Given the label, I assume this was at the George Alexander farm.

Another threshing scene, this one from the Whittet place in Redwood County.

A field scene from Sundown Township.

© Text Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Photos courtesy of Gary Revier

Book cover image courtesy of Gordon W. Fredrickson

 

Guys and their tractors, at an Allis-Chalmers auction August 2, 2010

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Bidding proceeds on the 50-plus Allis-Chalmers tractors at the auction.

WHEN MY HUSBAND SUGGESTED Saturday morning that we take in a large Allis-Chalmers auction at North Morristown, I balked.

Why would I want to stand in the middle of a field on a hot and humid summer day and watch an auctioneer sell old tractors and other farm equipment?

“It’s blog material,” Randy said.

He got me there and he knew it, so Saturday afternoon I relented and tagged along, camera bag in tow.

Maring Auction Company ran the auction on Carl Krueger's farm.

The auction had already been going 4 ½ hours when we arrived at collector Carl Krueger’s farm next to Trinity Lutheran Church and School, which is North Morristown. Randy parked our car among the rows and rows of pick-up trucks that stretched across the trampled alfalfa field. Up and over, on the other side of the hill, people swarmed like ants around the auctioneer’s truck and around the orange tractors and other farm equipment spread out in orderly rows.

This steel wheeled tractor immediately grabbed my attention upon arrival at the auction

A close-up of that steel wheeled tractor in a long line of tractors.

Immediately, I saw the potential and soon parted ways with Randy, who was primarily interested in the tractors while I was primarily interested in the crowd. I had already spotted several photogenic characters. Not that I ignored the pumpkin orange tractors; they, too, offered ample photo ops.

But the bidders, the curious, intrigued me the most, mostly because many sported bright orange attire. If I had been on a highway, I would have thought we were in a construction zone.

I quickly determined that these Allis-Chalmers folks are pretty devoted to their brand. Otherwise, why would you willingly choose to dress like this? I’m no fashionista, but even I would need to think twice before donning bib overalls, a bright orange shirt and an equally bright cap. I saw plenty of all three at the auction.

The dress code of the day: Allis-Chalmers orange.

"The Allis-Chalmers Kid," Carl Krueger, left, watched as his tractors were sold at Saturday's auction.

Clearly, these folks love and respect old tractors, and I appreciate that. As I watched, men (the crowd was overwhelmingly male) settled onto the seats of Allis tractors, clasped their hands upon the steering wheels and drove away in their imaginations. Palms caressed tractor metal. Butts connected with tractor tires, offering a temporary resting place in the heat of the afternoon.

Three men rest on three tires on three Allis-Chalmers around 3 o'clock.

Many a potential buyer, or simply an Allis-Chalmers devotee, settled onto a tractor seat.

Leaning on, touching, climbing--all were important in evaluating Allis-Chalmers tractors at the auction.

Randy was right. I had found sufficient blog material here on this hillside farm field on an August afternoon. But after 1 ½ hours of pursuing photos, I needed a break.

“Is my face all red?” I asked, knowing the answer before the words even tipped my tongue. When I get overheated, my face turns beet red. I sought out the shade of a pole shed, where volunteers from Trinity school were selling beverages, sandwiches, bars and other food. I dipped my hand into a beverage-cooling cattle tank and swiped refreshing water across my flushed skin. Since I didn’t have any money with me for bottled water or pop, I was tempted to slurp a handful of water too. But I figured that wouldn’t be appropriate although no one probably would have cared. I talked to a few people, snapped several images and aimed back toward the field to find my misplaced husband. He was still ogling the tractors.

A long orange line of Allis-Chalmers tractors awaited bidders.

“My dad had one like that,” he said, pointing to the 1950s Allis Chalmers WD, just one in the long orange line. Oops, that’s John Deere’s tag—the line, the long green line. I met a guy who dared to wear his John Deere t-shirt here in this oasis of orange. His girlfriend has an Allis-Chalmers, he explained, as if justifying his attire, even his presence.

I wanted to tell him: “I don’t think it really matters. I’m here. I’m not wearing orange and, uh, we don’t own a pick-up truck.”

Pick-up trucks lined the alfalfa field at the auction site.

WATCH FOR ADDITIONAL auction photos later this week on Minnesota Prairie Roots.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling