TODAY I HAVE SEVERAL STORIES to share with you, all with a single common denominator: the middle.
Let’s start with the most recent. I made myself a sandwich for lunch—a little mayo, turkey deli meat and ham deli meat with a slice of pepperjack cheese layered in the middle. Nothing unusual about that.
The second half of my sandwich, minus the...
Until I bit into the sandwich and hit something that didn’t seem quite right. But I kept biting and chewing, thinking it was just the rough grains in the multi-grained bread or an edge on the meat.
But after several bites, I paused to investigate and discovered a piece of paper. Yes, people, I was eating the paper that separates cheese slices. I had removed one piece of paper while making the sandwich. Clearly I had not checked the flip side of the cheese slice.
WARNING: Always remove the paper from BOTH sides of the cheese slice before eating.
In relaying this story to my husband, he could only shake his head, laugh and repeat several times, “That’s my Audrey.”
Now onto those other “middle” stories, which have cast me in the role of a “middlewoman.”
Earlier this week I received a request from a retired Air Force chaplain for commissioned artwork. Not my art; I don’t paint or draw or sculpt or anything artsy like that. Rather, the retired military man was looking to contact Richard Vilendrer, a 72-year-old Faribault artist whom I met at the Faribault Farmers’ Market and featured in a September blog post. I spoke with Richard’s wife Carol several days ago and now I’m waiting to hear if Richard is being commissioned.
An example of Richard's nature and faith-inspired pen-and-ink and colored pencil artwork.
Another inquiry this week came from a videographer for Farm Rescue, an organization that helps farmers in need. The North Dakota man was requesting permission to use images from a July 1 storm (in southwestern Minnesota) which I published on my blog. Because I hadn’t taken the two photos he wanted, I had to contact my brother and my uncle. Done. I’ll tell you more about this organization next week.
Then, the same day, an inquiry came via a blog comment from a South Dakota writer. She wanted to know if I knew of a Minnesota organization that works to preserve prairie churches. I don’t. Do you?
On Friday I learned that I made my first art sale. Again, not my art. Not my money. But a reader saw my photo of a hideous “turkey choir” print in a blog post about a Stockholm, Wisconsin, antique shop and promptly put the print on hold to purchase. Do I get a commission on this sale?
The "singing turkeys" print I helped to sell.
Finally, today, a metro woman asked, via a blog comment, if I could find the man at the Faribault Farmers’ Market who sold fresh horseradish. I knew exactly who she needed to contact. So I dialed Dennis Gare’s number, spoke to his wife and hopefully fresh horseradish will soon be on its way to this reader’s house.
You might rightly conclude from the above stories, with the exception of that paper eating incident, that I am truly a “middlewoman.” And all because of the power of this blog.
Thank you, readers, for reading Minnesota Prairie Roots. Happy to help you if you’re in the market for art, photos, information or horseradish.
© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
BUSY! c
Yes, handling all of these “middlewoman” tasks took considerable time.
I understand, dear Ceclia, that you truly were jesting about that turkey print being sent to me. Whew, you had me going there for a second or 20. But the other reader, the one who really put it on hold, truly was speaking the truth.
Hi, this is the happy owner of the turkey print. It is hanging in the dining room with my German elk plates, a few WWII don’t-waste-food-posters and some Edward Gorey prints. The turkeys fit my fall theme and most of my dinner guests are members of choirs of some sort or another, so I think a few may recognize themselves in the print. I see myself in the particularly myopic turkey….
Splendid, Carstens. I am delighted to hear how pleased you are with the “singing turkey” print. Someone has to like it and from what you wrote about your other decor, I believe you were meant to own it. (BTW, I love originality in decorating.)
Have you learned anything about the artist, the artwork or the age of your print?
Also, I do hope that you mentioned Minnesota Prairie Roots to the folks at the Stockholm antique store.
Finally, I would love to hear a report back on reactions from your Thanksgiving Day guests to that turkey print.
Your story about eating the sandwich with the paper still on the cheese is great! And I often find myself being the go-to person for how do I get that fill-in-the-blank food product, especially if it concerns farmers’ markets.
How could I not tell that paper eating story? Glad you enjoyed laughing at one of my moments.
My question-where is the person who bought the turkey art going to hang it at their house? 😛
In her dining room. Where would you suggest she hang it?
Being a middle sister and one who likes to tease, I have to say “I wish I had gotten that turkey print for you, Audrey” due to the eating of only turkey legs for supper at a friends home many years ago. Might I add you hate turkey legs.
As for the person who wanted horseradish, they should have been at our brother’s home a month ago when we made 2- 5 gallon pails stuffed full of just-dug horseradish roots. It took 6 workers and Mom as supervisor over 7 hours to prepare. Many friends enjoyed our efforts. My dad and I started making horseradish many years ago. Now that he is gone others in my family are taking over. Maybe Audrey can blog about it some time.
So in ending “Darn it, I wish I’d gotten that turkey print.”
Dear Middle Sister,
You have your story, my story, just a bit wrong. It was turkey necks served at my college friend’s house. Necks. Not legs. Now, would you eat turkey necks? I thought not.
That turkey print seems to be the object of much affection. I cannot understand why.
Thank you for sharing the family horseradish making story. I hope to be there with my camera next fall, if we are not moving the son to college, to photograph this event. After hearing how much fun you all had, I do not want to miss this. What a wonderful tradition Dad left us with his horseradish making. I cannot eat horseradish without thinking of him.
Love,
Your Older Sister
Maybe the “Singing Turkeys” will be used to motivate a choir somewhere-I hope not ours.
The first time my parents made horseradish we did it in the kitchen. In short order we had to vacate the house because of the burning sensation in our eyes from the horseradish fumes. We turned on all the fans, opened the windows and went to the Dairy Queen for an hour. After that horseradish was made outside or in the garage with fans running.
Love that horseradish making story, Virgil. I think it’s as good an excuse as any to go to DQ.
Never thought of those singing turkeys possibly motivating a choir.
Hi who was the artist of the turkey print? Who purchased it? Trying to find out the artist because my family had the same one.
Ingrid, I’m sorry, but I can’t answer your questions. I wrote this post quite a number of years ago. I didn’t know the artist then and I still don’t. I hope you find out.