Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

A mother’s love on a daughter’s birthday February 10, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:47 AM
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HOW CAN IT BE that I already have a daughter who’s 25? Where did the days, weeks, months, years go?

It seems like only yesterday when I welcomed my sweet baby girl and discovered the depth of love I held in my heart for this child of mine. Yesterday was February 10, 1986.

It really is true that, until you become a mother (fill in “father” here if you’re male), you cannot comprehend such love. There is much to be said for experiencing parenthood. I don’t think you can ever define the personal shift to parenting in words.

Thinking back on my first pregnancy and then my daughter’s birth, I remember, especially, how much my mother-in-law wanted a granddaughter. She had already been blessed with one granddaughter and then four grandsons in a row. Betty figured it was time for another girl.

She got her granddaughter and then another and another and another and another and another. If you’re counting, that’s six granddaughters in a row.

As for my husband and me, we honestly did not care whether we had a boy or a girl, as long as the baby was healthy. But, my gut instinct told me my unborn child was a girl. I was right, of course, as I was in guessing the gender of my other two children, although I didn’t have the boy figured out until my husband and I were en route to the hospital.

By the time my son was born, one day short of eight years after my eldest, my mother-in-law wanted a grandson. She got her wish, but never lived to see my baby boy. She died, at age 59, of a heart attack nearly four months before his birth.

Every year on the February birthdays of my oldest and my youngest, I think of their Grandma Helbling and how she got her wishes. I got mine too—three beautiful, healthy, wonderful children (the third was born in November 1987) who have given me love and joy beyond measure, and, yes, the occasional stress and maybe even some of my gray hair.

I love my trio with a mother’s love that cannot be defined in words, but can only be felt by the heart.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, oldest daughter of mine!

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Thoughts on my son’s birthday February 9, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:31 AM
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At our house we typically don't have birthday cakes. Rather, the birthday celebrant chooses the dessert of his/her choice, and often that's cheesecake like this one my eldest made for my September birthday. Today I'm making a chocolate chip cheesecake for my son's 17th birthday.

MY SON TURNS 17 today, a day before my eldest turns 25. It wasn’t planned that way—to have their birthdays one day shy of eight years apart. But it happened and the two have never complained about the closeness of their birthdays.

For those of you who don’t know my family, there’s another daughter in between, my 23-year-old, who is 21 months younger than her older sister.

I know, I know, I’m tossing a lot of numbers out there for someone who prefers words to numbers and sucks at math.

But here are some more figures as long as I’m spewing them out. Even though my boy was born 10 days early, he weighed 10 pounds, 12 ounces, and stretched to 23 ½ inches. Yikes, you’re thinking. Not to worry. Like his sisters before him, he was born by Cesarean section due to the fact that the eldest was frank breech, requiring an emergency, vertical-incision C-section.

She weighed 9 pounds, 7 ounces. Her sister came in at 8 pounds, one ounce.

Yes, I have big babies.

My son was so big, in fact, that the hospital’s newborn diapers didn’t fit him. I also had to return a package of newbie diapers that a friend had given me before my over-sized baby boy was born.

You would never guess looking at my lanky 17-year-old today that he was once a roly-poly baby. He’s tall and lean now, tall and lean.

I’m wondering, if you’re a mom, do you reflect on your child’s birth every year on his/her birthday like I do? I remember that first kiss I planted on my son’s soft, warm head right after his birth. He was then whisked away while the surgeon tidied up after my C-section and followed with hernia surgery.

That first week after my boy’s  February 9, 1994, birth is mostly a painful blur as I suffered spinal headaches so severe I couldn’t sit up, let alone care for my newborn. Instead, the obstetrical floor nurses mothered him, coddled him, loved him. They even carried my baby boy into the break room, which would be a definite no-no today. I’ll always be grateful for their care.

I am thinking all of these thoughts today, a day when I’ll hold my teen a little closer, a little tighter—if he’ll allow it—and embrace him with a mother’s birthday hug.

Happy birthday, son. I love you now and forever. (I know you don’t read my blog, but I’m telling you anyway, just in case you read this someday.)

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Worries about spring flooding along the Zumbro River February 8, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 11:09 AM
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IF YOU LIVE along a river in Minnesota, are you concerned about spring flooding?

While predictions for significant, wide-spread flooding in our state focus primarily on those living along the Minnesota and Mississippi Rivers, folks in other riverside communities are worried too.

Take the residents of Hammond, a southeastern Minnesota town of 230 which sits along the banks of the Zumbro River. Eighty percent of the houses and most of the businesses there were flooded during a late September 2010 flash flood. Many residents still are not back in their homes.

I visited Hammond and nearby flood-ravaged Zumbro Falls only weeks after that flood and talked to several locals, including Katie Shones. The Zumbro River flooded across park land, a highway and Main Street before lapping at the door of Katie’s family’s Hammond home.

 

Katie Shones and her family live in this house, photographed during the September 2010 flood. Her house was spared, by mere feet. Other houses and businesses along her street were flooded by the Zumbro River.

Her friend, Tina Marlowe, wasn’t as fortunate. The home where Tina lives with her fiancé Micheal; her 7 and 16-year-old children; and future in-laws, Bob and Cathy, was flooded with the basement entirely engulfed in water and 3 – 4 inches of water on the main level. The house is elevated approximately three feet above the ground.

Tina and her family moved back into their home right after Christmas.

I emailed Tina and Katie recently with these questions:

Are you concerned about possible spring flooding? How about your community? Have you, or are you going to, purchase flood insurance? Are you making any special preparations for possible flooding?

Their answers differ somewhat, probably based on personal experience more than anything. Yet, concern is woven into each of their responses, enough concern so that they are planning for the possibility of spring flooding.

Katie tells me: “Lots of people are talking about the possibility of another flood, but kind of have the devil may care attitude. If it is going to flood, there is not much one can do about it. Natural disasters happen all the time.”

 

Main Street Hammond at the height of the September 2010 flood. Water was rushing over the sidewalk and into the basement of the gray house via the cellar doors. Katie Shones' house is only two lots away from the gray house.

Katie’s not worried about her home flooding. Her house isn’t even in the 500-year flood zone and she hasn’t purchased flood insurance. Yet, if the water starts to rise like last fall, she and her husband will haul sand and gravel from local quarries and build a bank in front of their home to protect it.

Her feelings about spring flooding are mixed, though, she says, because of all the snow. “If the ground isn’t frozen, hopefully most will drain into the soil and not reach the river. If the snow melts at a normal pace, I really don’t think we have much to worry about.”

Then she adds this kicker: “I think the Rochester flood control project on the Zumbro River had a huge role to play in this fall’s flood.”

I know nothing of Rochester’s flood control project, but if Katie is thinking this, then I bet other residents are too.

Katie’s friend Tina already has a plan in place for spring flooding and her future father-in-law is checking into flood insurance. “I am very concerned,” she says.

“Mike and I are making a plan,” she shares. “Activation Stage in Zumbro Falls is 15 feet and flood stage is 18 feet. So if the river rises to 15 feet and the crest is predicted to be over 20, Mike and I will be pulling all of our stuff out of the basement and main level and will take it up to the second floor. Then we will pre-pack the car, and have our vehicles moved to higher ground before we get the evacuation call.

Since my father-in-law is now acting mayor, I’m sure that Mike and I would be helping out with door-to-door notifications if in fact there is an evacuation ordered. It is still undetermined what would happen if the house sustains damage again.”

Tina has one more worry related to possible spring flooding. She is getting married and her wedding will be at Municipal Beach Park in Wabasha with the reception at a riverside restaurant there. “I am very, very concerned about the Mississippi flooding…my back-up plan was the park in Hammond. I am holding my breath and doing a lot of praying!!!!!”

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Photos by Gene Reckmann and courtesy of Katie Shones

 

Great customer service at Sherwin Williams February 7, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 12:02 PM
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THE MANAGER OF SHERWIN WILLIAMS in Faribault just called.

He was curious about issues we had with the Cashmere paint we purchased this weekend at his store. (See my February 6 “Paint problems” post.)

Josh explained to me that, in the darker shades, like the “Whole Wheat” we chose, the colors don’t mix as well into the thinner Cashmere paint. Flecks of color were floating on the surface of the paint, even after a return trip to the paint store for extensive shaking.

Had we poured the paint into the paint tray and begun rolling it on the walls, it should have been just fine, Josh said. He knows from experience. But no one at the store (Josh was not there on Saturday) told us that and no one apparently knew.

So we ended up substituting SuperPaint for Cashmere and the color easily incorporated into that thicker paint.

While I love the new paint color, I don’t like the chalky feel of the SuperPaint, preferring instead the gliding Cashmere.

Josh asked how the whole situation was handled. My husband dealt with the paint issue and, I said, didn’t have any complaints. However, I told the manager I had expected a partial refund or store credit for our hassle.

He wanted to make things right. He wants a happy customer. He stands behind his paint. So Josh offered us a full refund on our two gallons of paint or future credit. I accepted the refund. He thanked me for bringing the issue to the store’s attention, adding that he hopes we will be back. We will.

This, folks, is an example of excellent, hometown customer service. Hats off to Sherwin Williams in Faribault.

 

 

The Super Bowl entertainment fiasco

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:26 AM
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IF YOU WATCHED the Super Bowl, what’s your opinion of the half-time entertainment?

Here’s mine: I did not get it. None of it. Not the words, not the dancing, not the message, not anything performed by the Black Eyed Peas. I couldn’t understand most of the lyrics.

I did not “get” the lead singer’s (sorry, don’t know his name) clear plastic head covering. He didn’t look too comfortable, sweating and all. I did like the group dancers’ glowing costumes. Those were cool.

I’ll admit that I know nothing about the Black Eyed Peas. I struggle, though, to define their “music” as “music.”

But then 70s era music is my music. And let me tell you, THAT was music—Chicago, Bread, the Moody Blues, Elton John, Rod Stewart…

This Black Eyed Peas stuff is not music, in my fifty-something opinion.

So…, the half-time show disappointed me, big-time. Half-time is one of the two reasons I sometimes, and I mean sometimes, watch the Super Bowl. I also, sometimes, watch the game to see the commercials. I could care less about the football.

I didn’t see every ad, but here’s my take on those: Way too many car commercials. Didn’t we just bail out the auto makers a few years ago and now they are spending millions on 30-second spots? That doesn’t sit right with me. I know, I know, there’s more to the story than that, but I’m just giving you my gut taxpayer reaction.

I don’t know why this surprises me, but I also thought too many commercials were too sexist and too violent. Can’t give you specifics because I didn’t take notes, but I recall a club and fire, weapons and long legs and…a guy ordering flowers…

My favorite commercial—monkeys running across the tops of cars with brief cases—made me chuckle. Sorry, I can’t tell you what they were advertising, so I guess that ad probably failed.

Then to top it off, Christina Aguilera messed up on the National Anthem, singing “What so proudly we watched at the twilight’s last gleaming” instead of “O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming.”

Come on. I admit, I could probably flub The Star Spangled Banner too, but I’m not a professional performer.

At least the Green Bay Packers won the game. I was rooting for them, sort of, when I wasn’t reading the newspaper, clipping coupons and falling asleep on the couch.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Paint problems February 6, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:15 PM
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THIS WEEKEND my husband and I have been marathon painting. We painted our bedroom Friday evening.

And then Saturday we tackled the living room. Get it? Tackle. Football. Super Bowl.

I need to throw some humor into this whole situation. You’ll understand as you continue reading.

Saturday wake-up arrived dark and early at 5:45 a.m. as the 16-year-old had to be up to catch a bus at 6:30 a.m. for a science competition in Rochester. Any thoughts of sleeping in were simply dreams. My husband and I were sleeping on our mattress in the living room, because of the strong paint odor in our bedroom. The living room is directly in the pathway to the kitchen and to the back door. So when our son was up and around, we were too. Besides, he needed a ride to school, although we could have made him walk. But sometimes, according to him, we are actually “nice” parents.

I digress.

Given our early rising, we could have, should have, finished painting early in the day. But we were waiting for our friend, Duane, to arrive. He is a professional painter and had offered to offer some tips on painting the ceiling. The last time my husband painted the ceiling, it looked like a spotted cow and we hired another friend to repaint it. So we were willing to wait for Duane. Between the two of them, Duane and Randy finished the ceiling in an hour. I’m happy to report we do not have Holsteins on our ceiling.

By that time, we were ready for a break from paint fumes and we still needed to pick up the paint for our living room walls. So we drove the several miles across town to get two gallons of Cashmere paint, in a golden “Whole Wheat” color, from Sherwin Williams. With stir sticks, more rollers and additional paint trays in hand and $90 less in our bank account, we were ready to paint.

Or so we thought.

Sherwin Williams' premium Cashmere paint, a satiny paint that we've used before and really like.

After a quick lunch, Randy opened the gallon of paint, only to find specks of color floating on the top. Now, I would have just stirred and stirred the heck out of that paint. But not my smart husband. He slapped on the paint lid, pounded the cover, grabbed the two gallons of paint and drove back, across town, to Sherwin Williams.

I told him I was going to take a nap, but instead called my mom.

When, even after a lengthy conversation with my mom, my husband still wasn’t home, I phoned him. He was at the paint store. Seems all the shaking in the world wouldn’t shake the gold coloring into the white Cashmere paint. Not into the first can of paint. Not into the second can of paint. Not even into a third can of paint, with a different batch number, pulled from the shelf.

Calls to the store manager at home and to the Owatonna Sherwin Williams store got the same answer: “We’ve never had this happen before.” No one could figure it out.

Then the manager suggested trying a different paint, SuperPaint. That worked; the colors mixed into the paint.

Sherwin Williams' SuperPaint, the paint that ended up on our living room walls. I like the look of the paint, but not the chalky-feel finish.

By the time Randy returned home, we knew we would be pushing it to finish painting the living room by dusk.

But we did and I was happy…, until I ran my hand along a newly-painted wall. The dried SuperPaint felt like chalk, a sharp contrast to the glide-smooth finish of the premium Cashmere paint. By then, though, it was too late to do anything. We had already picked up a second gallon of paint for the second coat.

What did I learn from this? Whenever you undertake a home improvement project, something always pops up. I just didn’t think we would have problems with paint, for goodness sakes.

Now, did I tell you about the evening our brand new front door popped open when we were watching TV?

#

(I AM WAITING to see if Sherwin Williams will give us store credit, or a partial refund, for the paint hassles. If they figure out the problem, I would really like to know why the colors wouldn’t mix into the Cashmere paint.)

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

An emergency road service ordeal February 5, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 2:12 PM
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IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN a hassle-free situation. That is why we have emergency road service coverage through our auto insurance. It is for times like this—when the car breaks down and you are stranded.

That happened to our eldest daughter Friday evening as she was leaving her St. Paul office for the commute to her Minneapolis home.

When a light came on in her car and when she had difficulty steering, she quickly got off the road and pulled into a convenience store.

Getting a tow truck should have been easy, worry-free, as promised by the insurance company. It was anything but.

A call to the insurance company came with a promise that help was on the way. But, as the minutes ticked by and no tow truck arrived, my daughter called to check on the reason for the delay.

She was told the tow truck driver couldn’t find her, although she was at a busy convenience store just off Interstate 94 and had specified her exact location. The driver, claimed, however, that he couldn’t find her. He was from Columbia Heights, not St. Paul.

So my eldest, by this time frustrated, called a St. Paul towing company.

They were “really nice,” she told me when phoning to update me on her situation.

Well, “Minnesota Nice” soon changed to “Minnesota-Not-So-Nice.” The driver first asked for $90 cash to pay the towing fee.

Who carries $90 cash?

Not my daughter.

Instead, he accepted her credit card, which, for whatever reason, wouldn’t work.

So she asked if he would take a check. He would. She wrote out a check and was already en route to Minneapolis with a friend who had come to her rescue when her cell phone rang.

It was the manager of the towing company saying the firm could not accept her check and would be towing her car back to the convenience store.

What would you do?

Probably exactly what my daughter did. She explained that she was not trying to rip off the towing company, that she had plenty of money in her bank account. It didn’t matter, so she headed back to the convenience store to use the ATM which the towing company rep told her was located there.

She withdrew $90 cash, paid the tow truck driver, ripped up the $90 check in front of him and left, two hours after she first called the insurance company that promised worry-free, drive-and-sign emergency road service.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Whole wheat and we’re not talking bread February 4, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:35 PM
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MY FRIEND MIKE called Thursday morning, just after I switched off the vacuum cleaner. Thank goodness I didn’t miss his call or I would have been so mad at myself.

You see, Mike is a color expert, a former floral designer, an interior decorator, a guy with an eye for color.

I needed his advice on the paint color for our living room.

 

My living room walls, patch primed for painting, are currently boring beige. I've been looking for a neutral color with some warmth. Here the couch is pulled away from the wall in prep for painting.

I’d narrowed it down to two Sherwin Williams’ colors. But all week I’ve gone back-and-forth, back-and-forth. Nomadic Desert or Whole Wheat. Whole Wheat or Nomadic Desert. Whole Wheat. Nomadic Desert.

Every day was like a tug-of-war as I held the paint samples against the living room walls at different times of day and night.

 

The expanse of beige behind the entertainment center.

But, more and more, I was leaning toward Whole Wheat.

Yet…, I wasn’t sure and I’m not the kind of person who likes to paint so I had to be certain.

Then Mike called and the weight of making the right or wrong decision lifted from my shoulders. When he arrived at my house, Mike quickly looked at my preferred paint samples and a few others from the paint sample card pile of possibilities. He held the samples to the walls and briefly contemplated.

But he didn’t agonize, didn’t sigh, didn’t even hesitate and promptly endorsed my selection.

I was giddy, relieved, thankful—all rolled in one.

However, my friend warned me that initially I might find the color too dark, too bold, compared to the existing beige walls. I figured as much. But he assured me Whole Wheat was the right choice.

Then he burst my happiness bubble. “Be sure to apply two coats of paint.”

My enthusiasm deflated. “Why?” I asked.

He explained that no matter how hard I tried to cover the white primer, the primed spots would still show. Two coats would also add depth to the color.

I expect he’s right. Mike is a color expert. I’m not.

“I suppose you don’t like to paint?” I asked.

“I do like to paint,” he said.

But Mike is too busy right now coordinating a fundraiser on Saturday night. I know, though, if he had the time to help, he would. Mike is that kind of friend.

#

I ALSO WANT TO THANK my blogger friend Dana at Bungalow ‘56 up in Canada. She read my February 3 post, “Stressing over a home improvement project” and sent me a link to “Nesting Place Paint Colors & A Linky For Your Paint Colors.” As luck would have it, I clicked on one of the links and found a kitchen painted in Sherwin Williams’ Whole Wheat.

Coincidence?

#

THANKS ALSO TO MY SISTER, Lanae, a floral designer and color expert, for the color suggestions she emailed. I wish I possessed half her decorating talent.

She reminds me many times that as a child I once picked a yellow dress with daisy adornments over a green sailor-style dress. I quickly regretted my choice. Lanae regretted it, too, because she had to wear my hand-me-downs, including that atrocious daisy dress.

Bottom line, my sister has excellent taste and I trust her recommendations.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The Kletscher family legacy of public service

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:54 AM
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WE’RE NOT EXACTLY the Kennedys. But the Kletscher family, my family, has a long history of political, church and community involvement.

My uncle, Merlin Kletscher, writes in the family history booklet he compiled:

“Many of us (in this older generation) have, like our forefathers, been active in our community. We have served our country in the military, on church councils, city councils, township boards, ambulance squads, fire departments, and school boards. We’ve served on Legion auxiliaries, vocational school cooperatives, electric power cooperatives and grain elevator board cooperatives. Fire chiefs, mayors and county commissioners are among our family—and it makes me proud. The list for our family could go on and on. The point here is that our families have seen the need, as our forefathers did, to serve others to make someone else’s life a better life.”

For the Kletschers, that service to others traces back to my great grandfather, Rudolph Kletscher, a German immigrant. In 1890, he started a mission church at his home near Vesta in southwestern Minnesota. The families who met in his farmhouse would eventually organize St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church, where I worshipped as a child and which my mother and many other relatives still attend today.

I never knew my great grandfather, who died three decades before I was born. But his legacy of community involvement continued when his son Henry, my grandfather, served for many years on the Vesta School Board. When I was attending Vesta Elementary School, I would walk by a plaque just inside the front door engraved with my grandpa’s name. I suppose, subconsciously, that made an impression upon me.

My Uncle Merlin, the family historian, like his father before him, became involved in education by serving on two school boards. His community involvement is too long to list. But suffice to say that Rudolph Kletscher would be impressed with his grandson.

He would also be proud of my Uncle Harold, who held public office for more than 30 years in Vesta. Two of Harold’s sons likewise were elected to office.

In my immediate family, my dad, Elvern, fought on the front lines in the Korean Conflict and was active locally in church and Legion organizations and probably other groups of which I am unaware. He once unsuccessfully ran for Redwood County commissioner.

One of my brothers served several terms as a county commissioner. My older brother was the Westbrook fire chief for many years and his son is currently a volunteer fireman.

My eldest daughter holds a political science degree and today works in the State Capitol complex.

Like my Uncle Merlin, I am proud to be part of a family that gives back via public service.

MY COUSIN JEFF KLETSCHER, who is current president of the Minnesota Association of Small Cities and who served on the Floodwood City Council for 10 years before being elected mayor in 2003—he’s in his fifth mayoral term—was a DFL candidate for the House District 5B seat in northeastern Minnesota.

Jeff finished fourth among five DFLers in Tuesday’s special primary election. It was hard, he says, to be from a small community (Floodwood, population 503) with two big communities (Chisholm, population 4,960, and Hibbing, population 17,071) in the district.

DFL-endorsed candidate and Iron Range attorney Carly Melin easily won the primary with 50 percent of the votes. The 25-year-old is from Hibbing.

I’m not going to pretend that I am informed about northeastern Minnesota politics or the DFL candidates (other than my cousin) who vied for the office vacated by Tony Sertich, the newly-appointed commissioner for the Iron Range Resources and Rehabilitation Board.

But I can tell you that Jeff, like his great grandfather, grandfather and father (my Uncle Harold) before him, is living a legacy of service. He cares about rural and small-town Minnesota. Jeff’s length of public service (nearly 20 years) speaks volumes to me about his dedication to making life better for Minnesotans.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

We don’t “need” new stadiums February 2, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:04 PM
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I’VE ABOUT HAD IT with Minnesota sports teams thinking taxpayers should help them finance construction of new stadiums.

First the University of Minnesota got their new TCF Stadium. Then the Twins got Target Field.

And, as we know, the Minnesota Vikings have been pushing for a new stadium for years.

The St. Paul Saints have now hopped on the gotta-have-a-new-stadium bandwagon and are proposing a $45 million facility in downtown St. Paul, subsidized, of course, by taxpayer dollars.

Over at Target Center in Minneapolis, a proposal is now on the table to make $150 million in renovations to that building, home to the Timberwolves.

Come on, team owners, athletes, government officials, lobbyists, etc., have you heard of budget shortfalls, the bad economy, unemployment, struggling to make ends meet, high healthcare costs, high gas prices, high food prices, etc.?

I have no time, none, to listen to your list of so-called “needs.” You might “want” a new stadium, but in these difficult economic times, when the average Minnesotan is struggling, you don’t “need” a new stadium.

Here are some real needs:

  • Jobs (and pu….lease don’t tell me stadium projects will create new jobs; those are temporary)
  • Affordable healthcare
  • A decent wage for those who work long, hard hours to provide for themselves and their families (no multi-million dollar contracts here)
  • Lower gas prices
  • Better highways in outstate Minnesota (ever drive Minnesota Highway 3 between Faribault and Northfield or U.S. Highway 14 between Mankato and New Ulm?)

Readers, what’s your opinion on the whole gotta-have-a-new-stadium issue? Choose to agree or disagree with me, but you better have a really, really good reason for supporting a new stadium if that’s your stance.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling