IN MID AUGUST, Randy and I headed nearly 200 miles north of Faribault for our second stay of the summer at a family member’s cabin in the Brainerd lakes area. This trip our eldest daughter and her family joined us for several days. There’s nothing quite like time with the grandkids at the lake. Time to play, to relax, to make memories. And that we did. I cherish our days together Up North.
We mostly hung out on the beach or in the cabin. Weather conditions were not ideal with cool temps and strong winds prevailing when all six of us were there together. Yet, we got outdoors—the kids running along the sandy beach, digging a hole along water’s edge, enjoying the placid water on a warm and sunny day before the weather changed.
MAKING MEMORIES
I led the 6 and 9-year-olds on a scavenger hunt. We searched for a feather, a mushroom, a nest…that which nature offers like a gift if only we pause to see and appreciate. Randy taught Isaac to play Marbles on a homemade wooden board. It’s a long-time favorite of the extended Helbling family. We played Yahtzee and Connect 4, on an over-sized outdoor board. The puzzlers among us (not me) pieced together a lemonade stand. We headed into town for massive scoops of ice cream, a cabin tradition. And one day we picked peas from our sister-in-law and brother-in-law’s plot in a community garden. Later I taught Isaac how to shell them. The kids delighted in a timed Ninja course at a Crosslake playground and posed for photos behind Paul Bunyan family cut-outs at another park. We devoured s’mores around the campfire.
This is the stuff of memories. Simple. Uncomplicated. Mostly unplanned. Moments that connect us, deepen bonds.
Being outdoors, away from home and work and schedules and the demands of everyday life, opens us to the joys of vacationing. The haunting call of a loon and the sighting of a bald eagle perched atop a pine proved exhilarating. A bank of moody, pink-tinged clouds slung low in the evening sky drew all of us to focus on and admire the scene.
MORE CHERISHED MOMENTS
When the grandkids and their parents left several days before us, our world seemed too quiet. No more kids scampering up and down the loft ladder. No more requests to go to the beach. No more…
But, sans kids, there were still moments to be cherished. Lakeside dining with friends at Breezy Point. Popping in to chat with a Faribault friend who lives in Nisswa now and works for the Chamber of Commerce. And then a chance encounter with adults with disabilities on an outing at Mission Park, rural Merrifield. I learned that visually-impaired Shannon, who uses a white cane and carries over-sized yellow sunglasses, likes to sing. I asked her to sing for me. And she did—to a movie soundtrack of ”My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Deon. I thought my heart would burst with joy as this young woman first mouthed the words, then sang them quietly and then louder as I encouraged her. It’s one of those moments I will forever treasure. Me nearly in tears and everyone inside that picnic shelter smiling during this impromptu weekday morning concert.
SOUTHERN MINNESOTA CONNECTIONS ON THE RANGE
On the way home, there were more delights during a stop in Crosby, an Iron Range community that is evolving into a destination with its many outdoor activities, shops and murals. I spotted a mural by Minneapolis artist Adam Turman, whose work can be found on murals in Northfield and on Faribault Mill products. He’s a favorite muralist of mine. I saw also, much to my delight, Faribault Mill blankets and Caves of Faribault cheeses in separate shops. I felt Faribault-proud seeing those wool blankets and exceptional cheeses for sale in Crosby.
ICE CREAM, GREEK STYLE
But it was the homemade ice cream—Rave Creamworks’ Super Premium—at Victual in Crosby that got rave reviews from me. Randy and I shared a large scoop of Baklava ice cream laced with flaky phyllo dough, chopped walnuts and honey. It is the shop’s bestseller among 24 choices, so said the teen behind the counter. I loved this creamy ice cream, which I expect my friend, Father Jim Zotalis at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault, would appreciate given his Greek heritage. Baklava is a Greek pastry. Even in that ice cream I felt a connection to southern Minnesota. We can leave home, but we never really do.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Hearing, listening & the drone of war August 14, 2025
Tags: Alaska, commentary, hearing, listening, listening exercise, meeting, news, President Donald Trump, President Vladimir Putin, Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, war
IF I LISTEN CLOSELY, I can hear the incessant chirp of crickets beneath the steady drone of traffic rushing past my house. I live along a busy street, where noise is a constant except in the deep hours of the night. Even then, though, the lone blare of a siren may pierce the night silence, enough to awaken me.
I hear lots of sounds. But that’s not the same as listening. There’s a difference. Hearing is simply taking in sound waves. But listening requires intentional focus. Not only physically hearing, but also paying attention, picking up on verbal and non-verbal cues, remaining quiet.
Many of us are not particularly good at listening. It requires discipline, silence and an understanding that whatever we hear holds significance. Chirping crickets signal the end of summer. Screeching sirens indicate an emergency. And when someone is speaking to me, it means they have something to say. And I need to listen.
I consider myself to be a pretty good listener. As a journalist, I really honed my listening skills, a necessity in covering any news story, doing any interview. And on a personal level, I’ve always been more interested in what others are saying than in hearing my own voice.
Therein lies the problem. Too many of us like the sound of our own voices. If someone starts sharing their own story, their own challenges, we tend to interject our own stories. That’s when a push “pause” seems appropriate. Our listening skills need to kick in as we clamp our lips in silence and remember that the conversation is not about us.
So all of this leads me to the meeting between President Donald Trump and Russian President Vladimir Putin on Friday in Anchorage, Alaska, to discuss the war in Ukraine. Noticeably absent will be Ukrainian leader Volodymyr Zelenskyy. Now you’d think, given the war is raging in Ukraine, that Zelenskyy should be at the table. He asked to be there. But, if the two other leaders heard, they didn’t listen. A pre-meeting conversation between Trump and Zelenskyy isn’t the same as including the Ukrainian president in the summit.
From all accounts, the Trump administration is now billing Friday’s meeting as a “listening exercise.” I find that to be an interesting choice of words. I can’t imagine that either Trump or Putin will really be “listening,” based on past meetings between the two and observations I’ve made about them. But, hey, maybe this time they really will hear the crickets chirping above the drone of war, the blaring of sirens.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling