Along Brown County Road 29 between New Ulm and Morgan, MN.
RED
Along U.S. Highway 14 between Mankato and Nicollet, MN.
WHITE
Along Brown County Road 29 west of New Ulm, MN.
AND (touches of) BLUE.
Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Love’s memory May 17, 2014
CERTAINLY HE DIDN’T RECOGNIZE the significance of his choice—yellow and orange sweetheart roses in a vase tied with a yellow gingham ribbon.
Even I didn’t realize until the day after how the color choice and the ribbon transcended time. Men don’t often notice these details. And I nearly missed them in the bouquet he gave me.
On May 15, 1982, yellow sweetheart roses and babies breath ringed my short-cropped hair on our wedding day.
On Thursday, our 32nd wedding anniversary, my husband gave me a bouquet of yellow and orange sweetheart roses accented with babies breath.
Yellow roses were my bridal day flower of choice, along with daisies.
I also stitched yellow and white checked aprons for my cousins who waited on tables at our wedding reception.
It took me an entire day to connect the past to the present. And when I did, I leaned in and breathed even more deeply the fragrance of love’s memory.
© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Feeling at home, wherever you live May 16, 2014
This lovely Colonial style home atop a hill along Wisconsin Highway 21 in Arkdale always catches my eye.
DO YOU PICTURE a dream home in your mind?
There is something sweet and endearing about the simplicity of this country home near Redgranite, Wisconsin. Perhaps it’s the porch, the setting…the unassuming bungalow style.
Or are you living in your dream house?
A substantial farmhouse east of Redgranite, Wisconsin.
I’ve always wanted to live in a big white two-story farmhouse with a front porch. Rather like the farmhouse where my Uncle Glenn and Aunt Elaine and cousins lived near Echo, Minnesota.
Open front porches, like this one on a home in Redgranite, Wisconsin, encourage neighborliness and sitting outside on a beautiful afternoon or evening. Love the curve of the porch roofline and the stone front and steps.
The house, as I remember it, featured lots of dark woodwork with a built in buffet and that coveted porch.
A stunning Cape Cod style home constructed from locally quarried stone near Redgranite, Wisconsin.
But then again, I also appreciate the Craftsman and Cape Cod styles of architecture.
A well-kept farmhouse between Redgranite and Omro, Wisconsin, has likely evolved through the years with numerous additions. I appreciate the enclosed porch and the Victorian detailed scrollwork near the roofline.
I’ve always preferred old over new, although sometimes I think living in a modern home would equal fewer maintenance worries.
This cheery yellow house is located along Wisconsin Highway 21 in Redgranite. Christmas lights and a welcoming holiday banner still grace this home three months after Christmas.
In the end, though, I’ve concluded that no matter where you live, it’s not the walls or design or age or style that truly define a home. It is simply being content where you’re at, with the people you love.
NOTE: These images were taken on a late March trip to eastern Wisconsin when snow still covered the ground. Not any more.
© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Thirty-two years together May 15, 2014
HOW DOES ONE define a love of 32 years?
My sister-in-law Vivian summarizes it well in a quote from Warren Hanson penned in an anniversary card my husband and I received yesterday.
“…as two souls become one spirit, with one heart, one history.”
Audrey and Randy, May 15, 1982
Thirty-two years ago today, Randy and I began our married life together. It hasn’t always been easy. But life never is. Through joys and challenges, we have supported and loved one another. Yes, I’ve ranted and cried and he’s listened and held and reassured.
We’ve laughed.
We’ve danced in the living room, as recently as Sunday evening to a DVD concert selected because he knows how much I love Elton John’s “Crocodile Rock.”
We pray together, for each other, our family, friends—so many in need.
He recently gave up a company dinner to attend a poetry reading in which I was participating.
I’ve tagged along to farm and car shows, then discovered why he finds them so interesting.
I worked beside him once for a few hours and learned I can’t do what he does. Nor can he do what I do. We appreciate each other and our talents.
On Sunday afternoons we sometimes hop in the van and journey along gravel roads and into small towns, pausing when the mood suits us. There’s no hurry to return home now with the kids gone and only us again.
Two. A couple. A pair. Just like we started, except closer now for the singular spirit, the one heart, the shared history.
© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
The changing prairie view May 14, 2014
Newly-erected power lines, part of the Cap X2020 transmission line project northwest of Morgan along Minnesota State Highway 67, run seemingly into forever.
I FEEL ABOUT MONSTROSITY power lines as I do about wind turbines. I don’t appreciate their visual impact upon the land.
These towering giants, in my opinion, mar the landscape, distract and detract, cause me to feel small, unsettled and insignificant in their presence.
A farm site along Minnesota State Highway 67 dwarfed by a new transmission power pole.
Perhaps it’s just the southwestern Minnesota prairie rooted girl in me who values her horizon wide and broad and vertically interrupted only by grain elevators, water towers, silos and groves of trees.
Old style power lines still run along Brown County Road 29 between New Ulm and Morgan.
I wonder if my grandparents felt the same about the early rural electric co-op posts and lines strung along gravel township roads, the cement stave silos popping up on farms…old water-pumping windmills abandoned.
A cluster of Harvestore silos define a farm northeast of Vesta along Minnesota State Highway 19.
I felt a certain discontent when blue Harvestore silos began soldiering into southwestern Minnesota decades ago. They lacked personality and represented, to me, the demise of the small family farm.
Wind turbines in extreme southwestern Minnesota. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo, July 2013.
These are my thoughts as I travel through my native prairie today. Progress does not always please me. Visually or otherwise.
(This post is cross posted at streets.mn.)
© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
When blogging friends become “real friends” May 13, 2014
IN THIS WONDERFUL WORLD of blogging, I expected to share my passions for writing and photography.
I never anticipated, though, the friendships and connections I would form with other bloggers and with readers.
Doreen, left, and I at Crossings at Carnegie.
Saturday evening, I met, in real life, my blogger friend, Doreen, who writes at “Treadlemusic.” She and her husband, Tom, drove 1 ½ hours from their southeastern Minnesota home to the small community of Zumbrota for Poet-Artist Collaboration XIII at Crossings at Carnegie. I read my poem, “Lilacs,” at the event which paired 26 selected poems with art they inspired. (Click here to read about that.)
I was impressed that Doreen and Tom would drive that far to support me. But I’m not surprised. Doreen, whom I’ve gotten to know through blogging and a few phone conversations, is that kind of caring person. Just read some of her blog posts (click here) and you will meet a woman passionate about quilting and about bringing joy into the lives of others.
She was everything I expected. Funny. Bubbly. Full of energy and enthusiasm and genuinely happy to be at the collaboration. She cheered me on, gave me two thumbs up after my reading. Doreen is the kind of friend you cherish.
And Tom is equally as delightful, albeit much more subdued than his wife. People would likely say the same thing about my husband, Randy. They are a good balance for their wives. I figured the two husbands would get along just fine and enjoy some guy conversation. They did.
Crossings at Carnegie, site of the Poet-Artist Collaboration XIII.
Tom shared with Randy that, if not for the woman he married, he would not have attended events like the Poet-Artist Collaboration. Randy would say the same. Today both guys embrace the arts, for the most part.
As for Doreen and me, there’s no question we share a passion for creativity. She stitches hers into fabric. I stitch mine into words and images.
And now we’ve stitched together a friendship that goes beyond the exchange of blogger comments and the occasional email and phone call. We are real life friends.
IN ADDITION TO DOREEN, I’ve met four other bloggers whom I now consider friends:
Beth Ann, who writes from northeastern Iowa at “It’s Just Life,” also traveled 1 ½ hours to meet me for the first time in December of 2012. She and husband, Chris, came for my poetry presentation and reading at Buckham Memorial Library in Faribault. Since then, Beth Ann and I have lunched together, talked many times on the phone and recently dined together in nearby Owatonna with our husbands. She possesses great compassion and care, makes me laugh and has this wonderful Southern accent. I am blessed by her friendship.
Gretchen is the second blogger (“A Fine Day for an Ephiphay”) whom I met when she and her family drove to Faribault from rural Worthington to attend a play directed by a friend. We invited them to our home for supper. Since then, Randy and I have been to their home for supper. Gretchen is an incredibly gifted writer. But more than that, she is a kind and loyal friend who listens and cares. She has a wonderful husband and kids and we all feel like we’ve known each other for years. Such comfortable familiarity endears this family to me.
Jackie, who writes at “Who will make me laugh,” is the third blogger I’ve met. We share a passion for barns, country churches, gravel roads, Sunday afternoon drives and more. She’s one talented photographer. Jackie and I met last summer when my husband and I were in Rochester moving our son into his new apartment. She had scouted out apartment options for him and tipped us off to suitable options. For that I was grateful. Jackie and her husband, Rick, are also the type of individuals who make you feel right at home with their warmth and friendliness. A bonus of our meet-up was meeting their adorable granddaughter, Audrey. Within minutes of meeting, Audrey gave me a bracelet. She is sweet and kind, just like her grandma.
Sue, who lives in the metro (and elsewhere depending on the season) and blogs at “Ever Ready,” traveled to Faribault last fall with her sister for lunch at my house. She is among the most enthusiastic supporters of my poetry. I am so appreciative of Sue’s encouragement. She writes poetry, too, and heads up the Northwoods Art and Book Festival in Hackensack. My poem, “Lilacs,” was selected last year as a “Work of Merit” at that event. Sue is a real foodie and I’ve gone to her blog numerous times to find great recipes.
There you have it. Blogging is about so much more than writing and showcasing photos. It’s about community and friendship.
© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Celebrating an evening of poetry & art in small town Minnesota May 11, 2014
Guests arrive at Crossings at Carnegie in Zumbrota on Saturday evening.
POETS AND ARTISTS, family and friends arrived from nearby Rochester, as far away as Fargo, and from within a few blocks of Crossings at Carnegie in Zumbrota Saturday evening.
The published collection of poems and art with cover art, “Li Bai at the South Fork,” a pastel by Mike Schad, created for last year’s collab. Also featured is a line from the poem (with the same name) by Justin Watkins.
They came to celebrate the pairing of art and poetry in the Poet-Artist Collaboration XIII.
My poem, “Lilacs,” which was selected as a “Work of Merit” at the 2013 Northwoods Art and Book Festival in Hackensack, and now displayed at Crossings at Carnegie as part of the Poet-Artist Collaboration XIII.
Jeanne Licari’s absolutely stunning interpretation of my poem. Her “Lilacs on the Table” is oil on mounted linen.
Me on the left with “my” artist, Jeanne Licari.
I was there to read “Lilacs,” and to meet my artist, Jeanne Licari of Rochester, who created “Lilacs on the Table,” a still life oil on linen inspired by my poetry.
It was shoulder to shoulder people at the poet and artist reception. Poems and paired art are featured in the alcoves along the wall. Twenty-six poems and paired art are included in the exhibit.
What a delightful evening, mingling in this privately-owned small town arts center crammed with art and art appreciators.
Inside the historic State Theatre, artists and poets presented to a sizable crowd.
After we’d wined and nibbled, chatted and admired, we gathered in the next door historic State Theatre for 90 minutes of poetry readings and artist and poet talk.
From an abstract oil and acrylic on canvas to a watercolor of a Honeysuckle, to pastels, mixed media and even an oil on canvas of a 57 Chevy framed by barbed wire and fence posts, a plethora of art flashed onto the big screen in the darkened theatre.
As I listened to my fellow poets and these artists, I sensed, more than anything, a deep passion among all of us for the art of creating. That passion flowed in carefully crafted poems—lines of words that spoke of love and of memories, of cranes and of spiders, of storms and more. That passion flowed, too, in paint stroked upon canvas, in stitching and ink and the softness of watercolors.
To be a part of this event, in the company of such talent, truly inspires.
Leaving Crossings at Carnegie, I snapped this image of the former Carnegie library.
FYI: The Poet-Artist Collaboration XIII exhibit continues through this Thursday, May 15, at Crossings at Carnegie, 320 East Avenue, Zumbrota. The artwork is available for purchase.
Click here to read how my poem inspired artist Jeanne Licari.
Check back for a follow-up post on another reason Saturday evening’s celebration was a memorable one for me.
© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Thoughts on motherhood May 9, 2014
I love this crazy, fun-loving photo of my three kids, taken in February 2003.
HOW DO YOU DEFINE a mother’s love?
Endless, unconditional, unshakable, fierce, enduring? I would choose all.
Yes, I’m repeating myself with some of these adjectives. But so what.
I am a mother of three now grown children, all in their twenties. I always find “adult children” to be an oxymoron. Yet, no matter the age of our offspring, they remain always our children. Once a mother, always a mother. You never stop caring and worrying and, for me, praying.
Have my kids frustrated and maddened me? Sure they have. But I expect I’ve done the same. None of us—parent or child—is perfect. Far from it.
As a mother, I try to do the best I can. I’ve praised when deserved. I listen. I offer advice when necessary. After all I do have a few decades more of experience and wisdom. I support my children. Not always their actions and decisions, but them. There’s a difference.
I cherish my kids. I love them enough to let them go. And we’re not talking geographical distance, although two of my trio live 1,300 and 300 miles away. I’m referencing that proverbial cutting of the apron strings, that realization that this has been my goal, to raise and then let go.
There are days when I’d like to turn back the clock, to swoop my three back into our home,
My daughters, busted in October of 1988 sneaking cookies and “hiding” in the corner of the kitchen to eat them.
to admonish preschoolers for sneaking cookies from the cookie jar before lunch (all the while stifling laughter),
My current Tufts University computer science and mathematics majors son played with LEGOs constantly while growing up. This photo, taken in June 2003, shows the zoo he created using his imagination. No LEGO kit involved here.
to step upon an errant LEGO,
My eldest (standing) stars as a flower in the May 1992 Trinity Lutheran School play, “Leo the Late Bloomer.”
to sit through one more end of the school year musical in a stuffy gymnasium.
The son, left, the eldest, the son-in-law and the second daughter. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo, December 2013, the last time my kids were together.
But time has passed. Snap. Just like that my kids are grown up, two working, one married, another still in college (and working this summer).
I am nearing sixty.
My own mother recently entered a nursing home.
Life changes.
But a mother’s love endures. Forever.
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HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to all of you moms out there!
And to my three children and my son-in-law, I love each of you now and forever.
© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Rural driveway May 8, 2014
I KEEP FLIPPING between the three photos.
Original.
Edited.
Or edited.
But I can’t choose a favorite.
I like them all.
I like the lines of the field and drive, how my eyes are drawn to follow that pick-up into the farmyard.
I like the muted tones of grey and blue and those splashes of red in truck and outbuildings.
I like the ribbons of greening grass trimming the driveway, the bare trees edging the farm site.
This rural scene, along Brown County Road 29 southeast of Morgan, pleases me for the memories it holds. Not of this farm, but of my childhood on the farm. My heart is happy every time I travel back to southwestern Minnesota, past the fields and farms, gravel roads and grain elevators…through small towns…
© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Establishing my voice: Writing rooted in rural Minnesota May 7, 2014
I ARRIVED HOME on a recent Saturday afternoon to the answering machine blinking.
When I reached Sharon Harris of the northern Minnesota based Jackpine Writers’ Bloc a few moments later, I was pleased to hear her news. I’d placed second, she said, in the poetry division of The Talking Stick 23 competition with my poem, “Sunday Afternoon at the Auction Barn.”
Such news could not have come at a better time. Just the day prior, my mother had entered a nursing home. I needed to hear something positive.
TS 19 in which my poem, “Hit-and-Run,” received honorable mention.
Getting work accepted into this well-respected literary journal is always an honor. This marks my fifth year in the book in six years of submitting. Twice I’ve earned honorable mentions, for my poem “Hit-and-Run” and for my short story, “The Final Chapter.”
And now this year, I bumped up a spot to get that second place award. Another poem, “The Promised Land,” and a short story, “Eggs and Bread,” will also publish in volume 23.
The Talking Stick editorial team read and considered more than 300 submissions (of poetry, fiction and creative non-fiction) before forwarding their top picks in each of the three divisions to selected “celebrity” judges. Poet Margaret Hasse judged this year’s poetry.
Finishing second, I not only receive a $100 cash prize, but also Hasse’s comments on “Sunday Afternoon at the Auction Barn.” She writes:
I loved how you turned a humdrum occasion of bidding on antiques in an old barn into a closely observed and luminous occasion. The writer John Ciiardi once wrote that close and careful observation can “leak a ghost.” The surprise of your poem was the elevation of a commercial or material enterprise into a spiritual gathering—with a fellowship, liturgy, reverent respect, and people who commune. The ending—visual and concrete—was just right. The poet Franklin Brainerd wrote a poem something to the effect, “in a world of crystal goblets, I come with my paper cup.” There’s something both unpretentious and appealing about “sipping steaming black coffee from Styrofoam cups.”
Hasse gets it. She totally understands my poem, how each well-crafted line defines, as she says, a “spiritual gathering” in a small town auction barn.
If I could share my auction poem with you today, I would. But I’ve signed a contract not to do so for a year.
Suffice to say, this poem, like nearly every other poem I’ve written and/or had published, is rooted in my rural memories, my connection to the land and/or my appreciation for rural Minnesota.
Turek’s Auction Service, 303 Montgomery Ave. S.E. (Highway 21), Montgomery, has been “serving Minnesota since 1958.” Daniel Turek, Sr., started the third-generation family business now operated by Dan, Jr. and Travis Turek. They sell everything from antique vases to real estate.
Specifically, a photograph I took this past winter of a Montgomery, Minnesota, auction barn prompted the idea for this winning poem. I also drew on my experiences attending auctions, albeit not in recent years, to pen the 12 lines of verse.
Likewise, “Lilacs,” a poem I will read this coming Saturday evening, May 10, during the Poet-Artist Collaboration XIII reception at Crossings at Carnegie in Zumbrota, was inspired by my rural rooted memories. (Click here to learn more about that poet-artist collab.)
When I consider my poetry, I clearly hear the rural voice in my words. There’s nothing pretentious about me. I remain, as I always have been, rooted to the land in my writing.
FYI: The Talking Stick 23 publishes late this summer with a book release party set for Saturday, September 13, in the Park Rapids area. To purchase past volumes of the anthology, click here.
© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
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