Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

From Faribault: Food art with a literary twist March 30, 2019

The Gingerbread Man Loose on the Fire Truck inspired this cookie sheet sized gingerbread man.

 

BOOKS INSPIRED FOOD ART on Saturday at the annual Buckham Memorial Library Edible Books Festival & Competition.

 

A staff entry based on The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake.

 

From simple

 

Another detailed family entry based on one of my favorite childhood books.

 

to extraordinarily detailed,

 

The Three Pigs inspired another entry.

 

That Three Pigs entry judged most humorous in the families category.

 

the creativity of the book-based entries always impresses me.

 

The Jungle Book inspired The People’s Choice Award.

 

A close-up of the jungle.

 

The entire The Jungle Book entry.

 

Rules call for artwork to be made only of edible materials, although the entries are meant to be viewed only, not eaten. All must represent a book or a literary theme.

 

Based on the book Prime Cut by Diane Mott Davidson.

 

 

 

Staff entries.

 

This year 14 units—most created by families and the rest by individuals and City of Faribault staff—comprised the festival.

 

 

I especially love that families work together to create their literary masterpieces. While I photographed the event, I watched participating families arrive with parents, grandparents and siblings and pose for photos.

 

One of the many awards given.

 

Based on the book The Hunger Games.

 

A Friends of the Library volunteer served book-themed cake to guests.

 

Anytime kids get excited about books and the library is, in my opinion, a win. To read and to love reading opens the doors to learning and growing your world, your education, your imagination. And your creativity.

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

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About letting your dog run loose…my story March 29, 2019

Dogwood

 

HE DEFENDED ME with dogwood against the dogs.

 

A scene shot along one of the trails in the Faribault Energy Park toward the energy facility. Trails wrap around multiple ponds where three men fished for crappies Wednesday evening. An otter glided in the same pond, keeping his distance from the fishermen.

 

It seems fitting that dogwood would provide protection from two dogs running free at Faribault Energy Park around sunset on Wednesday. A quick Google search reveals the name of the reddish-tinted bush rooted in the Middle English words dagge/dagger. The thin sticks were once used as daggers or skewers.

 

After the incident with the dogs, I photographed these geese.

 

With that language lesson for the day, I return to the story of a walk on a lovely late March evening that left me upset and frustrated with an irresponsible dog owner.

Here’s the deal. If you have dogs and choose to take them to a public place, then leash them per city ordinance and common sense. Otherwise go to the local dog park and let your dogs run free. Or stay on your property and watch your dogs run.

A dog not under the control of its owner concerns me. I don’t care how supposedly friendly and well-behaved the dog. Any canine in a strange place, among strangers has the potential to do harm.

I feel fortunate that I escaped with only muddied jeans after a large curly-haired black-and-brown dog bounded toward and then jumped onto me, slicking mud down my pant legs. That was enough to kick in the fear factor, especially when a second dog joined the first dog.

By that time I was in semi-panic mode, unsure what these dogs might do to me. Randy picked up on my fear and stepped in with a bundle of dogwood. He thrust it between me and the dogs, held it as a shield as the pair continued to circle.

 

The Faribault Energy Park wind turbine. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

We don’t typically carry around dogwood. But minutes earlier I picked up dogwood twigs broken off at the base of a bush. I’ve always wanted dogwood for outdoor flower pots and these would rot if left to the elements. Soon thereafter we encountered the dogs on the gravel road by the wind turbine.

Not only was I afraid, but I was angry. About my muddied jeans and that inconsiderate canine owner. I scanned the park grounds for the absent owner. And I yelled multiple times for that delinquent owner to retrieve his/her dogs. My voice was lost in the drone of heavy traffic from nearby Interstate 35. Randy and I kept moving, hopeful the dogs would leave us alone. Eventually they did and soon the owner rounded the gravel road in a green van, stopped, opened the side door and the dogs leapt inside.

Part of me wanted to turn around, walk to the van and lecture the dog owner. But I recognized that I was still too upset and, in today’s world, you never know how someone may react.

End of story except to say this incident ruined an otherwise lovely walk in the park.

 

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

I don’t know dog breeds well enough to identify the dogs referenced in this story. But it doesn’t matter. Dogs should not run loose in a public place.

 

Signs of Christmas linger in Minnesota into March March 28, 2019

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ACROSS THE STREET, on my neighbor’s front door, a faded Christmas wreath hangs. Needles dried and dropping. Decorative ribbon faded. In my own side yard, our dried Christmas tree, once buried under snow, lies atop a flowerbed.

 

Christmas greetings on an outbuilding on a farm site just west of Mankato along U.S. Highway 14 photographed on Saturday.

 

It’s not uncommon here in Minnesota to see outdoor Christmas decorations up well into spring. Whatever the reason. I suppose the cold and snow hinder removal, especially this winter.

 

In a New Ulm yard, a sign on a tire swing says, “Santa stop here.” Christmas lights also wrap an entry column on the left. Photographed on Saturday, March 23.

 

Or, after awhile, we simply don’t notice whatever we pass by on a daily basis. That explains, for example, why cardboard covers a section of wall in my dining room. We removed a brick chimney about 10 years ago with plans to add a mini pantry. Such is the stuff of plans detoured by finances. Now I don’t think about that plan much anymore, unless a first-time visitor stops by and I find myself explaining why we have a cardboard wall. But I digress.

 

At the site of Farm Fest and the Gilfillan Estate, the Redwood County Historical Society wishes motorists a Happy New Year.

 

Back to that holiday décor. I photographed several examples of Christmas greetings still in place while traveling back to my native southwestern Minnesota this past Saturday. Hopefully soon spring and/or Easter themed décor replaces signs of Christmas.

 

 

At least one New Ulm business, A to Zinnias Florals & Gifts, recognizes the seasonal change to spring by offering 25 percent off on all bunnies. That would be home decorating bunnies. Not real.

 

Rudolph in a farmyard along Brown County Road 29 west of New Ulm about half way to Morgan.

 

TELL ME: Is it common in your area for seasonal Christmas decorations to stay up too long? Or what defines “too long?”

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Defining spring in Minnesota March 27, 2019

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Looking skyward in my Faribault, Minnesota, backyard Monday morning.

 

HOW DO YOU define spring?

By the calendar? By tulips, daffodils, crocuses popping color into the landscape? By warmth?

 

A sure sign of spring in Minnesota: More motorcyclists on the roads, as reflected in this photo taken late Saturday afternoon.

 

Whatever your measurement of spring, it’s likely as personal as you are and reflects wherever you live.

I’ve lived all of my life in Minnesota, a state associated with cold and snow. Long winters. And this winter, especially, has been long with way above average snowfall in February. Finally, in recent weeks, temps warmed and snow melted with amazing speed. It’s beginning to feel and look more spring-like. Temps today are predicted to reach into the 60s.

 

Emerging in a south-facing flowerbed in my backyard Monday morning. Every year my tulips start to grow and then snow falls in April and, well, that’s not good. I expect no different this year.

 

First signs of spring for me may seem atypical. I look beyond flower bulb leaves emerging from the cover of leaf mulch.

 

A cloud of dust envelopes the street sweeper cleaning Willow Street Monday morning.

 

I see spring in the street sweeper roaring past my house, sucking up sand, dirt and other winter debris from roadways.

 

 

I see spring in our Christmas tree now uncovered, dried and dead, from a snowbank.

 

Aiming my camera lens directly upward to the sky from my backyard Monday morning.

 

I see spring in puffs of clouds against a sky morphed from the grey of winter to a sharp blue.

 

Flooded fields photographed Saturday morning in southern Minnesota.

 

I see spring in intense blue pools of water forming lakes in farm fields as the snow melts.

 

Typically, I would already have hung out laundry in 2019. But this year a snow-covered patio and too much snowfall and cold temps delayed that. Randy shoveled snow from the patio several days ago so I could hang out laundry Monday morning. That’s our Weber grill on the other side of the snowbank next to the clothesline.

 

I see spring in the laundry I now hang on the line, for the first time Monday morning. After the husband shoveled snow from the patio.

 

One of my favorite prints, picked up at a garage sale a number of years back.

 

I see spring, too, in the artwork I pull from my personal collection. Pastoral scenes that offer no hint of winter.

 

I appreciate that I can now find asparagus, one of my favorite vegetables, in local grocery stores.

 

I see spring in the bundle of asparagus I picked up at the grocery store. I can’t wait until locally-grown asparagus is available.

These things, for me, signal spring. How about you? Tell me what hearkens spring’s arrival for you.

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Statewide rallies on Wednesday focus on domestic violence March 26, 2019

Minnesota Coalition for Battered Women graphic.

 

FROM GRANITE FALLS on the western edge of Minnesota to Rochester in the southeastern corner. From up north in Bemidji to down south in Mankato. From central Minnesota to the State Capitol. Folks will gather Wednesday at various locations around the state to raise awareness about domestic violence.

Whether you’re from a rural area or a metro area, or some place in between, you ought to care. Domestic violence knows no geographical boundaries, no age limits, no financial status, no occupation, no ethnicity, no anything. It’s prevalent everywhere. It can, and does, happen to anyone.

Your daughter. Your sister. Your friend. Your co-worker. Your neighbor. Your fill in the blank. Maybe you.

While Minnesotans gather in communities large and small, they will also rally collectively in the State Capitol Rotunda from 11 a.m. – noon on Wednesday. They are the voices of survivors. They are the voices of those who help, who encourage, who raise awareness, who empower. They are advocates and community leaders. They are ordinary people. They are, together, a powerful voice. They are us.

Those who gather will also push for legislation that will provide funding for a Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault Prevention Program. Such legislation would provide grant monies to nonprofits “for the purpose of funding programs that incorporate community-driven and culturally relevant practices to prevent domestic violence and sexual assault.”

If you’re like me, you probably won’t participate in a rally. But you can, on a personal level, make a difference. Educate yourself. Choose to believe victims and survivors. Stop the blaming. Support, love, encourage. Give financially to a local advocacy group that helps those affected by domestic violence and/or sexual assault. Refuse to look the other way. Refuse to give up. Refuse to remain silent. Speak up. Wherever you live.

FYI: Click here for details on Minnesota communities planning rallies on Wednesday, March 27.

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

On the road: A look at Redwood County flooding & snow pack March 24, 2019

Westbound just outside of Redwood Falls along Minnesota State Highway 19 late Saturday morning.

 

SNOW LAYERS farm fields.

 

Along Minnesota State Highway 19 between Redwood Falls and the Belview corner.

 

Massive snow piles still mark farm sites, this one along Minnesota State Highway 19 near the Belview corner.

 

A scene along Minnesota State Highway 19 near the Belview corner appears more winter-like than spring.

 

In the shade of yards and groves and northern hillsides, snow banks remain, reminders of a long Minnesota winter not yet over.

 

In many spots along Minnesota State Highway 19 between Redwood Falls and the Belview corner, snow pushed off the highway (some up to 100 feet from the roadway) remains.

 

Snow shoved from a once-drifted Minnesota State Highway 19 appears like wind-sculpted waves frozen in place just west of Redwood Falls.

 

A sign on the west edge of Redwood Falls along Minnesota State Highway 19 advises motorists to check the Minnesota Department of Transportation website for road closures.

 

In Redwood, the Redwood River appears mostly iced-over.

 

Flooding along Minnesota State Highway 19 between Redwood Falls and the Delhi corner.

 

But outside of town, snow melt floods fields, settles in low-lying areas. Frozen tile and frozen ground allow no outlet for all that water. Farm sites seem temporary lakeside properties.

 

A drainage ditch near the intersection of Brown County Road 29 and Minnesota State Highway 67 southeast of Morgan.

 

Ditches brim with water.

 

East of Courtland along U.S. Highway 14, fields are mostly bare of snow.

 

Between Morgan and Gilfillan, snow cover and flooding increase.

 

Southeast of Redwood Falls.

 

A survey of the countryside while driving from Faribault to Belview and back Saturday presents a perspective on the flooding and potential flooding in southern Minnesota. Not until Randy and I drove northwest out of Morgan did we begin to really notice the difference. Our observations of significant remaining snow pack and already ponding water visually confirms the reason for a flood warning in my native Redwood County.

 

Flooded farm field near Delhi.

 

Just east of Belview.

 

East of Delhi, a closure on the Scenic Byway road.

 

There’s a lot of snow yet to melt, especially west of Redwood Falls. That water must go somewhere since it can’t soak into the frozen soil. And that somewhere is likely into the Redwood River, which feeds into the Minnesota River, which feeds into the Mississippi River. What happens in rural southwestern Minnesota will eventually affect the Twin Cities metro.

 

Near Delhi.

 

Temps and precipitation will factor into the flooding equation, too, as winter transitions into spring. I will tell you that Redwood County, on Saturday, seemed still stuck in the final days of winter.

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

From rural Minnesota: Farmer of the Year film showing this weekend in Faribault March 23, 2019

Near Edgerton, 30 miles south of Tyler, Minnesota. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2013.

 

CALL US THE BOLD NORTH, Fly-over Land, that place that’s too cold and snowy—whatever your description of Minnesota, I love this place. Most of the time.

We are a place of prairie vistas, lakes and woods, rolling hills, river bluffs. We are urban and rural. We are separately and together Minnesota.

The Minnesota I know best, and love most, is rural. South of the Twin Cities metro. Gravel roads and small towns. Church gatherings and family reunions. Popping into the grocery store only to strike up conversations with friends and acquaintances. This is the place of hotdishes (not casseroles) and recipes passed among generations.

 

 

But we are also a place of growth. In technology, industry, education, the arts. This weekend art follows rural roads to my native southwestern Minnesota. To an independent feature film written by former Lincoln County Dairy Princess Kathy Swanson. I blogged a few days ago about Farmer of the Year, a film which Kathy co-produced and directed with her partner, Vince O’Connell.

Even though she now calls Vermont home, Kathy remains true to her rural roots in the writing of this fictional story about a retired farmer embarking on a cross country road trip. I’m thankful for that rural authenticity. I’m thankful for Kathy’s creative focus on her rural southwestern Minnesota. It’s a place too often overlooked. Even by Minnesotans. When I tell people where I grew up, I often get a blank look. So I work my way back east, asking whether they know the location of New Ulm. If not, I backtrack even farther east to Mankato. Or often I will say “half-way between Redwood Falls and Marshall” and let them figure out the precise location of Vesta, my hometown. Portions of the film are shot in Marshall, but most are primarily around Kathy’s hometown of Tyler. That includes on her childhood family farm, still in the family.

 

A scene photographed from Rice County Road 15 between Faribault and Morristown, Minnesota. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

I hope you will follow Interstate 35, Minnesota State Highway 60, or whatever highway or backroad to Faribault this weekend to view the Minnesota made film Farmer of the Year by YellowHouse Films. It’s showing at 7 p.m. Saturday, March 23, and at 2 p.m. Sunday, March 24, at the Paradise Center for the Arts.

If you are interested in viewing this independent feature film in your community, talk to the folks at your local movie theater or arts center as the film is not widely distributed. Then connect with Kathy at YellowHouse Films so she can follow up. Whether you live in Minnesota or New York or California or any place in between, Kathy’s happy to work with you in bringing Farmer of the Year to a screen in your area. I’d love for you all to see this rural Minnesota made film that features the place of my roots, southwestern Minnesota.

CLICK HERE to view a trailer of the film and for additional info.

© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling