Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Seeding the harvest in southern Minnesota May 30, 2014

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Between Morgan and New Ulm, Minnesota.

Between Morgan and New Ulm, Minnesota.

AS MOODY GREY SKIES—the kind that inspire a poet to pen poetry—loomed in southern Minnesota on Sunday afternoon, farmers hastened in the fields.

Near Mankato, Minnesota.

Near Mankato, Minnesota.

You could almost sense the urgency so late in the planting season.

Near Mankato.

Near Mankato.

It was as if time pressed above the earth, folded in the fabric of draping clouds.

Near Mankato.

Near Mankato.

Below, farmers stitched seeds into soil.

Near Delhi.

Near Delhi.

Hope of harvest in the prairie land.

Between Belview and Delhi.

Between Belview and Delhi.

The promise of spring fulfilled.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

So thankful to celebrate my mom’s birthday May 29, 2014

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THIS TIME IT was my turn to bake the cake, using the same recipe she used all those decades of baking birthday cakes for her six children.

While she crafted animal-shaped cakes for me, my three brothers and two sisters, I opted for the simple, pouring the batter for Crazy Cake into a 9 x 13-inch pan. Later, after the homemade chocolate cake cooled, I topped it with homemade chocolate frosting and a rainbow of sprinkles.

Saturday afternoon my husband and I carried the treat and two jugs of lemonade into Parkview Home in Belview to celebrate my Mom’s birthday.

Not wanting to set off the nursing home sprinkler system, Randy lit nine candles rather than 82.

My mom celebrates her birthday with family at Parkview Home in Belview, Minnesota.

My mom celebrates her birthday with family at Parkview Home in Belview, Minnesota.

And while a small group of us sang “Happy birthday” and Mom blew out her candles, I considered the blessings of having her with us another year. Here she sat, albeit in a nursing home, but much healthier and in less pain than a month prior. She is walking again (slowly and with a walker), rising from chairs without assistance, making the best of this unexpected change in her life.

But one thing remains constant. Mom continues, as she always has, to show us all that she is one strong woman. She handles whatever comes her way with grace. She sees the best in everyone and possesses the kindest of hearts.

Me with my mom in her Parkview Home room.

Me with my mom in her Parkview Home room.

When a Parkview staff member asked if I was Arlene’s daughter and told me I look like my mother, I accepted that as the highest of compliments. I can only hope that I also emulate Mom’s goodness, kindness, faith, strength and gentleness of spirit.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Planting season in southern Minnesota May 28, 2014

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IF THEY WEREN’T WORKING the land, farmers along a stretch between Mankato and west of New Ulm were preparing to plant on Saturday.

Field work, tractor on drive, west of New Ulm

Everywhere, these tenders of the earth steered tractors along roadways and through fields, hurrying to prep the soil and seed crops during this year’s delayed planting season.

Field work, truck w seed bags west of Mankato

Seed bags topped wagons and pick-up trucks.

Field work, John Deere on curve west of New Ulm

Mammoth tractors pulling equally mammoth implements crept along rural roadways.

Field work, John Deere in field west of New Ulm

Sky and land swallowed small scale tractors.

Field work, tractor hill, near Courtland

On a rare occasion dust flew in the field.

Field work, International on road west of New Ulm

And I took it all in, savoring this sweet time in the growing cycle as only one born and raised on a farm can.

Field work, bags on wagon, west of new Ulm

This place, this land, still claims my heart each spring, each summer, each fall, through the seasons of planting and growing and harvest.

Photos were taken along U.S. Highway 14 and along Brown County Road 29.
© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Observing Memorial Day at a rural Minnesota cemetery May 27, 2014

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Folks begin arriving for the 2 p.m. Memorial Day program at the Cannon City Cemetery.

Folks begin arriving for the 2 p.m. Memorial Day program at the Cannon City Cemetery.

NEARLY 100 YEARS AGO, students paraded with lilac wreaths from their country school a short distance to the Cannon City Cemetery to honor the war dead.

The cemetery fence decorated for Memorial Day.

The cemetery fence decorated for Memorial Day.

Song sheets are distributed to those in attendance and then collected at the end of the program.

Song sheets are distributed to those in attendance and then collected at the end of the program.

Cannon City resident Bob Lewis, a veteran, arrives for the service. Later Bob will share info about the Rice County Drum and Bugle Corps.

Cannon City resident Bob Lewis, a veteran, arrives for the service. Later Bob, a former bugler, will share info about the Rice County Drum and Bugle Corps.

Today there is no “Death March” music, only patriotic songs. There is no school picnic like that after the long ago Memorial Day parade to this rural Rice County, Minnesota, cemetery on the edge of Cannon City some five miles northeast of Faribault.

Off to pick dandelions among tombstones.

Off to pick dandelions among tombstones.

But the children still come, some attentive to the ceremony led by Mel Sanborn, others darting, this Memorial Day, among tombstones to gather bouquets of dandelions. Later, they will toss dandelions into a flower bed ringing the American flag and carry other clutches home. It is a sweet moment to witness.

The program opens with singing of "The Star Spangled Banner." Steve Bonde is on the bugle.

The program opens with singing of “The Star Spangled Banner.” Steve Bonde is on the bugle.

Musicians' song sheets.

Musicians’ song sheets.

Jean Pederson listens after reciting "In Flanders Fields."

Jean Pederson listens after reciting “In Flanders Fields.”

I am here, an observer and a participant in this grassroots patriotic ceremony which, year after year, remains mostly the same—singing of “The Star Spangled Banner,” “America the Beautiful,” “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” and “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee;” names of the war dead buried here read; recitation of “In Flanders Fields” and “The Pledge of Allegiance;” and reading of “The Gettysburg Address; and the bugler sounding “Taps.”

Kathleen Kanne reads Walt Whitman's poem, "Reconciliation."

Kathleen Kanne reads Walt Whitman’s poem, “Reconciliation.”

This year, the presentation of Walt Whitman’s “Reconciliation,” the reading of a patriotic-themed newspaper clipping, singing of “Fightin’ Side of Me,” a brief history given of Rice County’s Drum and Bugle Corps and the bugling of “Revelry” are added to the semi formal ceremony.

A soldier's grave, flagged for Memorial Day.

A soldier’s grave, flagged for Memorial Day.

Musician Don Chester leads the musical selections along with his wife, Judy.

Musician Don Chester leads the musical selections along with his wife, Judy.

Between the tombstones, below the flag...

Between the tombstones, below the flag…

Steve Bonde ends the program by playing "Revelry."

Steve Bonde ends the program by playing “Revelry.”

This all presented on the grassy space between aged tombstones in the shadow of the American flag audibly flapping in the breeze. The comparison is not lost on me as Jean Pederson tells of poppies gently swaying in the wind of Flanders Fields.

FYI: To read previous posts on Memorial Day observances at the Cannon City Cemetery, click here and then click here.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Remembering on Memorial Day May 26, 2014

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Poppies on bulletin board

 

…that mark our place and in the sky, the larks still bravely singing fly, scarce heard amid the guns below…—  John McCrae, May 1915

Perhaps you will hear that poem read today.

Or perhaps you will remember, like me, that “honoring the war dead” poem recited decades ago on the stage in a small town community hall.

Or perhaps you will spot the opening lines of that poem on a bulletin board, like I did on Sunday at Parkview Home in Belview. My mother, a member of a nearby Legion Auxiliary and now living at this Minnesota nursing home, pointed out the mini poster she helped created.

She was proud. Not of what she had done. But that those who have served were being remembered on this, Memorial Day.

Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Remembering the true meaning of Memorial Day May 24, 2014

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MEMORIAL DAY MEANS, for many, a time of transitioning into summer activities. Picnics. Opening of the lake cabin. Thoughts of family vacations. A trek around the lake or dropping a fishing line into the water.

But for me, Memorial Day has always been about poppies and parades, ceremonies and cemeteries, American flags and American soldiers, my thoughts focused on those who’ve served our country. Like my Dad. Like his buddy, Ray, who died on a Korean battlefield the day before he was slated to return to his wife and infant daughter in Nebraska.

The Color Guard leads the 2013 Memorial Day parade in Faribault, Minnesota.

The Color Guard leads the 2013 Memorial Day parade in Faribault, Minnesota.

Today my thoughts are on my brother-in-law, Neil, currently deployed to Afghanistan. He’s serving in a medical facility, a somewhat safe place, if any place can truly be safe in a war zone.

Boy Scouts march down Faribault's Central Avenue, giving away small American flags, during Monday's Memorial Day parade.

Boy Scouts march down Faribault’s Central Avenue, giving away small American flags, during the 2011 Memorial Day parade.

This Memorial Day weekend, please take time to attend a parade or a ceremony.

About 30 people gather at the Cannon City Cemetery for an afternoon Memorial Day observance.

About 30 people gather at the Cannon City Cemetery for an afternoon Memorial Day observance in 2011.

Visit a cemetery. Note the veterans’ graves. Pay homage. Remember the sacrifices.

All eyes are on the flag.

A flag flies high at Cannon City Cemetery. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2012.

Then, when you’re firing up the grill, sipping a cold one, enjoying a wonderful day in a country where you are free, thank God, and those soldiers, for freedom.

BONUS:

FOR TIPS ON TEACHING your kids about Memorial Day, click here.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Black squirrels, oh, my May 23, 2014

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Squirrel number one scampers from the park across the street as soon as I approach with my camera. I don't have a telephoto lens, thus the distant view.

Squirrel number one scampers from the park across the street as soon as I approach. (I don’t have a telephoto lens.)

NO, THIS IS NOT one of those “Why did the chicken squirrel cross the road?” joke stories.

Rather, I am wondering, have you ever seen a black squirrel?

I manage to get a bit closer to squirrel number two.

I manage to get a bit closer to squirrel number two.

I hadn’t until last weekend while at City Park in downtown Appleton, Wisconsin.

My second daughter, who attended college in western Wisconsin and now lives on the eastern side of the state, couldn’t believe I’d never, in nearly 60 years of life, seen anything but grey or red squirrels.

My husband also had never spotted a black squirrel although he once saw an albino in the woods on his central Minnesota childhood farm home.

There are plenty of trees in Appleton's City Park, where I snapped one quick shot before the squirrel scooted out of camera range.

There are plenty of trees in Appleton’s City Park, where I snapped one quick shot before the squirrel scooted out of camera range.

I don’t recall any squirrels on my native southwestern Minnesota prairie farm while growing up. Maybe the shortage of trees had something to do with their absence.

In any case, I was intrigued by the two black squirrels in City Park. My daughter found my interest rather amusing. Sometimes it just doesn’t take much to entertain me.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

There’s something about a hardware store May 22, 2014

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PICTURE A SMALL TOWN hardware store and what image comes to mind?

Mine: Narrow aisles, wood floors, loose bolts and nails tucked into cubbies along the wall, and rolls of coiled, perforated caps for cap guns.

That was the 1960s.

Today most hardware stores don’t sell in bulk. Everything’s pre-packaged. I doubt you’ll find caps for a cap gun or wood floors either.

Jerry's ACE Hardware in the small town of Kenyon, Minnesota.

Jerry’s ACE Hardware in the small town of Kenyon (not Faribault), Minnesota.

Yet, the hardware store remains a small town staple, the go-to place for plumbing supplies, mouse traps, paint, other basic essentials of home repair and more.

I live in a community of nearly 25,000, no small town by my definition. Faribault has two hardware stores, one of them, ACE, in the downtown area. The place is busy, always busy. It’s not because prices are low. Rather it’s because of the service.

From the moment you walk in the door, an employee is there to answer your questions, lead you to whatever it is you need. And that worker sticks around until he/she is certain you have what you need. These folks are, for the most part, knowledgeable.

You can’t beat great customer service.

And then there’s that help-yourself-to-a-bag-of-popcorn popcorn machine…

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Really, deep-fried what? May 21, 2014

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The Rice County Fair, Faribault, Minnesota. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2009.

The midway area of the Rice County Fair, Faribault, Minnesota. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2009.

I’M NOT MUCH OF A FAIR-GOER. I trace that back to too many years chasing down 4-Hers for photos with their uncooperative animals. A fair doesn’t hold the same appeal once you’ve covered the annual event for a newspaper more than a few times.

This was decades ago. Things change. I’m no longer a newspaper reporter and photographer assigned county fair barn duty.

So today I could meander as I please through the fairgrounds.

Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2009 from the Rice County Fair, Faribault, Minnesota.

Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2009 from the Rice County Fair.

For many of you, a fair is all about the food, right? Deep-fried anything, often served on a stick.

A vendor at the Rice County Fair. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2009.

A vendor at the Rice County Fair. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2009.

For example, at last year’s Minnesota State Fair, you could find these new deep-fried food offerings, among others: deep-fried olives, fried pickles ‘n’ chocolate, wine glazed deep-fried meatloaf, an assortment of deep-fried sandwiches and deep-fried bread pudding.

How they deep fry some of these foods, like bread pudding, I have not a clue. But I suppose where there’s a chef, there’s a way.

The brat barn, not to be confused with a dairy or pig barn. You can purchase StoneRidge meats here.

Minnesota Prairie Roots 2011 photo of Uncle Butch’s Brat Barn in Wautoma, Wisconsin.

All of this deep-fried food talk leads across the border into Wisconsin, known for its beer, brats and cheese. Brat fries are already popping up here at places like Uncle Butch’s Brat Barn outside StoneRidge Meat & Country Market, Inc. ( Piggly Wiggly) in Wautoma. Wisconsinites love their brats. Me? Not so much.

A quick roadside snapshot of the deep fried pizza sign along Wisconsin State Highway 21 in Wautoma.

A quick drive-by snapshot of the deep-fried pizza sign spotted this past weekend along Wisconsin State Highway 21 in Wautoma.

But it wasn’t the warm weather brat fries that drew my attention on a trip to eastern Wisconsin this past weekend. It was the sandwich chalkboard sign I spotted along Wisconsin State Highway 21 in Coloma advertising deep fried pizza.

Deep-fried pizza? Now how does one deep fry pizza and why would you?

Although tasty, Flamin' Bleu was not quite what Randy expected. He expected chunks of bleu cheese topping the pizza. But then we are bleu cheese fanatics with award-winning bleu cheeses produced in our home community of Faribault.

Flamin’ Bleu pizza at Pizzeria 201 in Montgomery, Minnesota. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo used for illustration purposes only.

I love pizza, I really do. I make homemade pizza every Friday evening. And while in Wisconsin, my husband, second daughter and I dined on our favorite pizza, the New Orleans style topped with Andouille sausage, chicken, shrimp, red onions, red peppers and Cajun spices, at the Stone Cellar Brewpub in Appleton. It certainly was not deep fried.

Tell me, have you ever heard of or eaten deep-fried pizza?

My initial reaction was this: Well that can’t be too healthy.

But then again, nothing deep-fried really would be, would it?

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Working the land May 20, 2014

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A farmer in the field Sunday evening along Minnesota State Highway 60 between Zumbrota and Faribault.

A farmer in the field Sunday evening along Minnesota State Highway 60 between Zumbrota and Faribault.

THE EARTHY SCENT of freshly-turned soil wafted through the vents of the van Sunday afternoon as my husband and I traveled through southeastern Minnesota after a weekend trek to eastern Wisconsin.

A field along Interstate 90 in southeastern Minnesota.

A ribbon of grass runs through a field along Interstate 90 in southeastern Minnesota.

I love that smell of spring, of cold earth warming to the sun after a long winter.

Heading to or from the field on a frontage road along Interstate 90 in southeastern Minnesota.

Heading to or from the field on a frontage road along Interstate 90 in southeastern Minnesota on Sunday afternoon.

Planting’s been delayed because of excessive rainfall, as noted by muddy fields, water in road ditches, and by high water in streams, rivers and lakes in many areas. We drove 600 miles round trip along Minnesota State Highway 60, US Highway 52, a lengthy stretch of Interstate 90, onto a few miles of Interstate 94 and then across central Wisconsin on State Highway 21 from Tomah to Oshkosh and finally onto US Highway 41 north on Saturday and then back the next day.

Doing field work the old fashioned way in Amish country near Coloma, Wisconsin.

Doing field work the old fashioned way in Amish country near Coloma, Wisconsin.

On Saturday morning, except for a team of horses working the land in central Wisconsin, in the heart of Amish country, we noticed little movement in fields. In extreme southeastern Minnesota, though, farmers had already been out working the ground.

Working the land somewhere along Interstate 90 in southeastern Minnesota.

In the field somewhere along Interstate 90 in southeastern Minnesota.

By Sunday, with a day of sunshine and warmer temps, we noticed more earth turned, the blackness distinguishable from soil exposed to harsh winter weather.

Working the land in southeastern Minnesota.

In the field in southeastern Minnesota on Sunday.

Our farmer fathers would be proud of my husband and me for, after all these years away from the farm, still noticing the progress, or lack thereof, of field work.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling