A display window at Keepers Antiques along Central Avenue in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)
PHOTOGRAPHING SCENES behind glass often proves challenging. First, you need to watch for your own reflection so as not to photograph yourself. And then there are all the other reflections playing upon the glass.
I faced those obstacles while photographing a valentine themed window display with my cellphone outside Keepers Antiques in historic downtown Faribault recently. I tried my best, waiting for vehicles to pass, angling myself out of the photo, working to frame the scene. Yet, even with all that finagling, the results were not outstanding. Or so I thought.
When I viewed the images on my computer, I was pleasantly surprised to notice unseen details in the overall window display image. That prompted thoughts of the popular “I Spy” photo-based picture books for kids. Readers need to find specific items in each photographed scene.
With historic buildings across the street reflecting in the antique shop window, it appears that two faces are peering from second floor windows on the far left and to the right. Love that ghostly visual. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)
In the collage of antiques and collectibles Nona Boyes creatively placed in the window of her antique shop, I saw the makings of an “I Spy” book. (Study the first image in this post.) I spy a doll in a checked dress. I spy a red telephone. I spy a stop sign. I spy faces in windows. I spy a red ironing board. I spy a chandelier. I spy two candy boxes. I spy a valentine in a shoe. I spy a fleur de lis, the symbol of my community. What do you spy?
Shirley Temple dolls times three. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)
What you won’t spy in the overview window display are three 1970s vintage Shirley Temple Ideal dolls. They were there, just not in the section I initially framed. I photographed them separately. In the doll portraits, I spy a red brooch. Do you? I spy, too, one white shoe with a red bow. I spy the word “beverages.”
Those I spy candy boxes. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)
And I spy in the all of this an opportunity to turn a photo challenge into something interesting as only a photographer and writer can do. Through my creative lens, I saw pages in an “I Spy” book unfolding before me.
The traditional valentine bouquet, red roses. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
AHEAD OF US ON THE SIDEWALK, two young men, both on rollerblades, paused. As Randy and I drew nearer, I noticed one holding a bundle of wrapped flowers. I couldn’t help myself. “Oh, for me! Thank you!” I exclaimed, stretching my arms as if to take the bouquet. They laughed.
It was one of those chance encounters that proved delightfully fitting on the Sunday before Valentine’s Day. Randy and I were out for an afternoon walk on the campus of the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf when we met the teens. The state campus is often used as a pathway by students from Shattuck-St. Mary’s, a private college prep school in Faribault. MSAD sits between Shattuck’s upper and lower campuses.
Given their rollerblades, I figured the two were hockey players at Shattuck. They confirmed that. And they confirmed that the flowers were for a girlfriend. “He’s in love,” the Minnesotan said of his Canadian roommate. I smiled, happy to witness this gentle ribbing, this evidence of young love. Oh, to be sixteen again and feeling madly in love.
Another valentine tradition, assorted chocolates in a heart-shaped box. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Love. While we romanticize love on Valentine’s Day with flowers and chocolate and cards and dinner out, it is so much more than romanticism. Ask anyone who’s older and who has been in a relationship for awhile. Like me. Love is listening and caring and kindness and simply being there in the quiet of each other’s company. It’s supporting one another through challenging days and celebrating together in the good times. Or simply enjoying the ordinary days, which comprise the bulk of life.
And love in February is two 16-year-old hockey players skating along the sidewalk, one cradling wrapped flowers for a girl.
I received this handcrafted valentine in the mail from my friend Beth Ann. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)
I adore this valentine crafted by Jack, Amelia and Ben and mailed to me from northwestern Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)
Valentine chalk heart in the window of Keeper’s Antiques in downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)
Valentine love, for me, is also handmade valentines in the mail, vintage valentines from my mom’s collection and window displays themed to February 14. It is childhood memories of shoeboxes crafted into valentine receptacles, boxes of candy conversation hearts and Juicy Fruit gum taped to red hearts. It is my 5-year-old grandson’s homemade paper valentine heart stuck to the front of my fridge.
My son crafted this cloth valentine 25 years ago in kindergarten. I hang it on my door every Valentine’s Day. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Valentine’s Day brings loving thoughts of family (including my husband of nearly 42 years) and friends. February 14 is truly a day that stretches beyond romantic love. I sincerely hope individuals who are not in romantic relationships feel included. Love is universal. Love hugs all of humanity.
One of my favorite valentines, because of its theme, among my mom’s vintage valentines. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)
I love the vibe of Valentine’s Day, a day when our thoughts focus on a world full of love in a world too often filled with hatred. On this singular day, we can intentionally choose to exude positivity. We can choose to forgive and focus on that which connects, rather than divides, us. We can choose to listen and encourage and use only generously kind words. We can choose to skate along the sidewalk like 16-year-olds intent on delivering bouquets of happiness. And we can choose, too, to stop, stretch our arms toward those flowers and engage in conversation with individuals we meet in the everyday moments of life. We will all be the richer for having connected, for showing love to one another on Valentine’s Day and well beyond February 14.
A flag ceremony, representing the country of origins of many peoples who call Faribault home, was part of the 2015 International Festival Faribault. Joseph Mbele is shown just to the right of center in this photo, dressed in black with a yellow and red shirt. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2015)
I FIRST MET JOSEPH L. MBELE in 2015 at the International Festival Faribault. The author, cultural consultant and professor of English at St. Olaf College in Northfield was representing his native Tanzania during this fest celebrating the cultural diversity of my community. Then late last year I talked to Mbele again, when he was selling his latest book, Chickens in the Bus: More Thoughts on Cultural Differences, at a local holiday church bazaar. He is engaging, soft-spoken, knowledgeable and just an overall kind and gentle soul.
Author Joseph L. Mbele with two of his three books, photographed at the 2015 International Festival Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2015)
This image shows the cultural diversity of Faribault. This photo was taken at a downtown car showin 2015. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2015)
That he is appearing at a business along Faribault’s Central Avenue is meaningful in itself. Many Somali residents live in second floor apartments here in the heart of our downtown business district. Other of our newest immigrants have opened restaurants and shops along the avenue and side streets, making for a diverse downtown. But it was their presence here that stirred up complaints and controversy a few years back, and likely still does, although those are not as loudly vocalized as previously.
Mbele’s latest book, published in 2021. (Cover image sourced online)
In Chickens in the Bus, Mbele terms this “the sidewalk issue.” Business owners expressed concerns about Somali men congregating outside, blocking sidewalks, scaring customers away, Mbele writes. His words are not new to me. I’d heard them, too, from business owners and from local residents. People were, they said, afraid to come downtown. I’ve never feared walking along Central Avenue past groups of Somali men. What people don’t understand, they all too often fear.
To Mbele’s credit, he has worked hard to inform, to enlighten, to listen, to help bridge cultural divides. He spoke to Faribault business owners. He spoke to members of the Somali community. He’s also spoken publicly at libraries and elsewhere. I appreciate his efforts.
At the core of “the sidewalk issue” are cultural differences, according to this native Tanzanian who specializes in teaching folklore at Northfield’s St. Olaf College. Somalians come from an oral culture, one that relies on social gatherings to share news, Mbele writes. “…Somali gatherings in downtown Faribault are the Somali newsstands,” he told local business owners and includes in his book. That’s so down-to-earth understandable.
Mbele’s slim volume, Chickens in the Bus, which I purchased at the November 2023 holiday market, is an excellent primer for anyone desiring to learn more about cultural differences. This author and cultural consultant highlights how those differences can both challenge communities, but also present opportunities in an ever-increasingly connected world that is decidedly global. He writes in a way that is peaceful and soothing and seeks to create harmony.
A rooster, photographed at a rural Faribault farm and used here for illustration only. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2018)
I learned a lot about “African Time” and “American Time,” about native-born Africans who do not view themselves as black or as “people of colour” (vs African Americans who do), about chickens in the bus, and much more. In Africa, Mbele writes, someone may carry a chicken onto a bus, a gift from a rural villager.
His newest book, a sequel to Africans and Americans: Embracing Cultural Differences, proved an easy and informative read, one that enlightened me about my newest neighbors. They enrich Faribault with their culture, bringing their food, language, dress, customs and more. I will never travel to Africa. So I am the richer for the Africans who now call southern Minnesota home, who bring their culture into my community, to me.
Puzzles on loan to us from our eldest daughter. Randy quickly finished the toy puzzle. Now he’s working on “Minnesota Spirit,” a challenge. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)
IF YOU ARE A JIGSAW puzzle enthusiast, then you are a “dissectologist.” Who knew a name existed for those who love sorting and assembling jigsaw puzzle pieces into completed puzzles? Not me. While I appreciate learning a new word, I don’t engage in this primarily winter pastime. But many Minnesotans do.
Speed puzzling competitions have exploded in popularity, including right here in the southern part of our state. From libraries to breweries to community events and beyond, jigsaw puzzle enthusiasts gather and compete to finish their puzzles first. This week the Elysian Public Library hosted a Jigsaw Puzzle Derby. The Owatonna library held a competition in January. The St. Paul Winter Carnival did likewise.
Randy quickly assembled this 300-piece puzzle from White Mountain Puzzles. Here the puzzle box sits atop the finished puzzle. The toy theme had us both reminiscing. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)
More competitions are planned throughout our region, because, well, we still have plenty of winter remaining. On February 10, Creekside Community Center in Bloomington is holding a Family Jigsaw Puzzle Competition. Angry Inch Brewing in Lakeville hosts a Jigsaw Puzzle Contest on March 6, Mankato Brewery on March 17 and Surly Brewing in Minneapolis on March 27. And at the Historic Chateau Theatre in Rochester, the venue hosts a Downtown Puzzle Contest on March 9. And well to the north, the St. Louis County Depot is the site of the Duluth Jigsaw Puzzle Contest April 19-20. I expect many other places in Minnesota hold jigsaw puzzle contests. One need only search for those events online.
A Facebook group, Minnesota Jigsaw Puzzle Association Puzzling Group, even exists for Minnesotans who are die-hard jigsaw puzzle enthusiasts. I have more than a few in-laws on my husband’s side who love putting puzzles together so much so that last summer a puzzle exchange was part of the annual Helbling family reunion. Bring a puzzle or three and take home a puzzle or three. It was an idea enthusiastically embraced.
A sample of Minnesota-themed puzzle pieces in “Minnesota Spirit” by Nancy Patrick Carney. (Minnesota Prairie Roots photo February 2024)
Right now, two card tables sit in our living room where Randy is assembling a “Minnesota Spirit” jigsaw puzzle designed by Minneapolis artist Nancy Patrick Carney. The 1,000-piece puzzle features all things Minnesotan—from University of Minnesota mascot Goldy Gopher to the Aerial Lift Bridge in Duluth to Red Wing boots, the Mayo Clinic, Jeffers petroglyphs, SPAM luncheon meat, Laura Ingalls Wilder, birthplace of the Mississippi River, Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox, and so much more. Each area of our state is well-represented in puzzle art.
The back of the puzzle box explains the PuzzleTwist concept. (Minnesota Prairie Roots photo February 2024)
But “Minnesota Spirit,” along with other puzzles created by Maynard’s LLC in Minneapolis, is not your ordinary jigsaw puzzles. Many are Something’s Amiss!® PuzzleTwist® puzzles, meaning the completed puzzle will not look the same as the puzzle featured on the box cover. In “Minnesota Spirit,” there are 56 differences ranging from colors to locations within the puzzle to added art. These twists take jigsaw puzzles to the next level for those who really want to be challenged.
The list of Minnesota (and other) jigsaw puzzles by Maynard’s is lengthy, covering topics like Minnesota state parks, landmarks and much more. There’s “MinneSNOWta” and “You Betcha!” and “Minnesota State Fair,” for example.
A close-up angled view of the “I Remember Those!” toy puzzle. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)
Now, what makes someone love assembling jigsaw puzzles (like Randy, our eldest daughter, many of my in-laws and my grandkids)? What makes folks compete in speed puzzling? The challenge? The sense of accomplishment? Entertainment? Perhaps in the depths of winter, it’s simply a way to pass the time indoors. Only a true “dissectologist” can answer those questions. And I am not one. I am only a puzzler of words.
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TELL ME: Are you a dissectologist? If you like putting puzzles together, why do you enjoy this pastime? Have you competed in speed puzzling?
The frosted cover of Monopoly House Divided, left on a table in Central Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2023)
NOW THAT CAUCUSES and primaries have kicked off, this seems a fitting time to share photos I took a few months back at Faribault’s Central Park. But first the back story. Randy and I sometimes walk in and around this block square park and into adjacent neighborhoods for exercise. Occasionally while crossing through Central Park, I’ve noticed miscellaneous items left there, like abandoned boxes of food, articles of clothing, even Play Doh slime. I would pull out my smartphone and document my finds.
I have no idea why this game was left on a picnic table or by whom. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2023)
On the frosty morning I spotted play money scattered across the grass and a board game atop a picnic table, I took extra time to investigate. I found a political version of Monopoly, Hasbro’s House Divided. Who knew? But I suppose given the political scene in this country, the constant bickering between parties, this should not have been a surprise. Let the board game company make money on the division within our nation.
The board game was lying open on the table as if the players abandoned it mid-play. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2023)
The game features “Executive Power” and “I Voted” cards and rules that allow players to buy states, earn votes and collect rent while on the campaign trail to the White House. That’s a simplified summary.
That’s the White House in the front. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2023)
Now, I loved Monopoly as a child. Randy played the game with our kids, often sprawling across the living room floor on Sunday afternoons. By that time I had no interest in the game. And I have no interest in playing House Divided Monopoly. There’s enough division and chaos in the real world of politics to focus on it in a competitive board game.
Playing pieces on the frosted board game cover. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2023)
I’m already weary of the current presidential campaign, and it’s only just begun. How many months until the election?
TELL ME: Have you played this version of Monopoly? If yes, what are your thoughts on the game?
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NOTE: I don’t want the comments section to turn into a space for heated political debate and discussion. That is not my intention. As always, I reserve the right on this, my personal blog, to publish or not publish comments.
Neuro ophthalmologist Dr. Collin McClelland was pleased with the results of his 1.5-hour surgery on my eyes. I saw him and his team last Wednesday for my post op visit. My previously misaligned eyes are now in full alignment. In three to four months, I should know the final outcome. Eyes can shift yet as muscles heal and my brain adapts to the new alignment.
Updated glasses (minus prisms) and updated eyes, nine days after surgery. (Copyrighted photo by Randy Helbling)
This is a process, this recovery and healing. I can tell my brain is working hard to adapt to my new way of seeing the world. My eyes remain red, irritated and itchy. But I am looking less ghoulish each day with my eyes no longer leaking fluid and blood. Time, healing, ointment and eye drops have all helped.
Mostly gone is the double vision which led me first to my local ophthalmologist late last summer and then to the specialist at the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis in October. Today I see double only upon awakening and for a while thereafter and when I’m overly-tired. That compares to more often than I could count pre-surgery. That is reason to feel thankful.
As you may expect, I arrived at my post-op visit with a list of questions, tasking Randy to take notes as I focused on eye checks done by two doctors and another medical staff member. Yes, the exams were repetitive and exhausting. But I appreciate the thoroughness of the post-op evaluations.
I won’t get into the medical details of my surgery, not that I understand them anyway. But I learned that Dr. McClelland worked on two muscles in my right eye and one in my left to realign my eyes. He had to work through extensive scar tissue from this same surgery done in 1960 by Dr. Theodore Fritsche in New Ulm.
This is what I looked like shortly after surgery in the recovery room. If you look closely at my left eye, right above the steri strips, you’ll see a black thread taped to my skin. That’s the end of the adjustable suture. (Copyrighted photo by Randy Helbling. I asked him to take the photo, not realizing how awful I looked.)
Perhaps the most intriguing part of my recent surgery is the adjustable sutures stitched into my left eye. That’s exactly what it means. Adjustable. During recovery, when I was alert enough to focus on a big letter E across the room, Dr. McClelland tweaked the alignment based on what I saw. Twice he had to pull on the sutures to move my left eye into alignment. I’m thankful for the topical anesthetic eye drops that semi dulled the pain and for my inability to clearly see what he was doing. I could only see the blurry movement of his hands and what I think was a tweezers. I will admit the tug on my eye felt unsettling.
Several days post-surgery, I was already looking better. It’s difficult to see my red eyes in this image. But trust me, they were still very red. The flowers are from my dear children, sons-in-law and grandkids. (Photo credit: Randy Helbling)
But here I am today, two weeks out from all of that. Each day brings some improvement in the physical appearance of my eyes and in the way my eyes feel. I still feel, though, like a pebble is stuck in my right eye. That, my surgeon explained, is likely the end of a suture irritating my eye. I asked him to clip it off. Of course, I was joking because I realized he couldn’t possibly do that. But I had to bring some humor into the post-op exam room where medical residents listened, observed and learned.
Beth, a blogger friend from Michigan, sent this handcrafted get well card, which made me laugh aloud. I love it and all the other cards and wishes I’ve received. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)
Now with this recent eye surgery, I must limit screen and reading time. I learned this past Saturday that shopping is like physical therapy for my eye muscles and brain. My eyes hurt and I felt exhausted after grocery shopping and stops at Books on Central, Eclectic Alliance and a Big Box retailer. Eyes move a lot when you’re looking at items on store shelves. I overdid it.
My vision is not crystal clear and is sometimes blurry and distorted. I haven’t attempted photography yet, except with my cellphone. Putting anti-inflammatory drops into my eyes four times a day to reduce inflammation has proven challenging. I can’t seem to master that skill. I am thankful for Randy’s help.
Meanwhile, I am wearing prescription glasses without prisms. Before surgery, no number of prisms would correct my double vision. To see such improvements so soon after surgery leaves me feeling grateful to my surgeon and this team—for their knowledge, their skill and their compassion.
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NOTE: I am grateful also to you, my blog readers, for your support and encouragement offered in the comments section and in get well cards I’ve received. You’ve lifted my spirits. Thank you.
Minnesota wood art with Minnesota shape by Spanky’s Woodshed of Faribault, metal roots by my friend Steve and assembled by my husband, Randy. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)
AS A LIFE-LONG MINNESOTAN, I speak Minnesotan. It’s hotdish, not casserole. Pop, not soda. Bars may be a sweet treat baked in a cake pan and cut into squares or a place to imbibe. And when someone is going Up North, it’s not to Canada, but typically to the cabin in the Brainerd lakes area or thereabouts.
A serene country scene just north of Lamberton in southern Redwood County, my home county. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I’m proud to be rooted in this state many consider fly-over land. On a road trip to the East Coast a few years back, folks, upon learning I was from Minnesota, reacted, “Oh, it’s cold and snowy there.” I’m just fine with non-residents thinking that. It is cold for much of the year. And it is snowy, too, most winters. But we have four distinct seasons to be appreciated in a state that is geographically diverse. Prairie. Woods. Bluffs. Rolling land. Farm fields. Cliffs that rise above the Mississippi River and Lake Superior. Wilderness. Lakes numbering 10,000-plus. All inside our spacious borders.
And outside “The Cities,” as we term the twin cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul, away from metro lights, the night sky is dark, expansive and filled with more stars than you can imagine. Sky and land defined my childhood home on the vast prairie of southwestern Minnesota. But even here in southeastern Minnesota, the sky is big as noted by a Boston visitor. She saw the Minnesota night sky for the first time as we drove her to Faribault from the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. The infinite number of stars impressed her. Northern lights (the aurora borealis), which I have yet to see, are also an attraction.
Paul Bunyan is primarily a central and northern Minnesota legend. But he can also be found in southern Minnesota, like on this sign in Faribault.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2023)
If I sound like I work for the Minnesota Department of Tourism, I don’t. That job falls to legendary lumberjack Paul Bunyan, unofficial tourism CEO. Clad in his signature buffalo plaid flannel, he is easily recognizable, much-loved and a trendsetter in fashion in the North Star State. I would venture to guess that nearly every Minnesotan owns a collection of flannel shirts. They are my go-to winter attire.
An updated version of “How to Talk Minnesota” is a good guidebook to Minnesota speak.
Did I mention that we don’t speak Fargo, even if that North Dakota city sits across the Red River from Moorhead, Minnesota? I’ve been told we drag out the “o” sound in a distinctly Minnesoooootan sound. Could be. I don’t necessarily hear it. I don’t deny, though, that we are obsessed about the weather. Conversations within our borders usually include one weather reference whether it be wind chill or humidity or “hot enough for you?”.
This sandwich board in small town Belview promotes one of Minnesota’s signature dishes, Tater Tot Hotdish, as a noon special. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2019)
Minnesotans are known for a thing called “Minnesota Nice,” which I like to believe is true most of the time. We are a bit reserved, use phrases like “that’s different” or “that’s interesting” when we really don’t like something or disagree, but want to be nice by holding back our honest thoughts.
The Minnesota sweet treat known as bars, often served with “a little lunch.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Our goodbyes are prolonged. Often, as visiting family is leaving my home, I find myself either standing in the driveway or window waving, waving, waving. That follows the hugs I’ve given only minutes earlier. You can’t get in too many goodbye waves.
The Woodtick Inn in Cuyuna hosts Woodtick Races each summer. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2021)
Pines border the driveway leading to a central Minnesota lake cabin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I love this state where I’ve lived my entire life, even when I complain about the long winters and abundance of mosquitoes. This is home. Always has been. Always will be.
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IF YOU HAVE any questions about Minnesota, any observations, anything you want to share, please do. Just follow the rules of “Minnesota Nice.”
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2018, used for illustration only)
A WEEK OUT FROM BILATERAL STRABISMUS eye surgery to realign my eyes, I am feeling like most people post-surgery. I want this healing and recovery process to move faster. I feel as if I’ve stalled after an initial sprint. So it goes.
In the meantime, this past weekend brought some much-needed laughter into my life. Laughter is healing. It was also the theme of Global Game Jam, a week-long world-wide game development event. My son, who lives and works half a country away in greater Boston, participated, working with three others to create the video game “Addicted to Laughter.” That followed the event theme of “Make Me Laugh.” I love that theme because we need more laughter in this world.
I’ve personally needed extra laughter in the past week during my recovery. Laughter is a good diversion when dealing with eye pain/irritation, headaches, insomnia, distorted/blurry/double vision and a brain that is working over-time to adapt to my newly-aligned eyes. Yes, side effects should lessen, but in the meantime…
Photo I took of the DVD collection
Randy and I have been binge-watching a DVD collection of Blue Collar TV sketches by comedians Jeff Foxworthy, Larry the Cable Guy and Bill Engvall. Some of the content is more redneck and offensive than I like. But all in all, the trio made me laugh. Kudos to Randy for choosing this when I asked him to “find something funny” to check out from our local public library. I’d rather be reading, but my ability to read for any length of time is currently limited.
A smiley face has long graced this building near Roberds Lake, rural Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
But I have read, and appreciate, the many get well cards I’ve received, including one from my cousin Diane. It’s sunny yellow with smiley face art. Simply reading the words and seeing all those printed smiley faces make me smile and laugh aloud at some of the statements (like turning cartwheels) in this “The Healing Power of the Smiley Face” themed card. And, bonus, I’ve always loved smiley faces and once had a vivid yellow smiley face bulletin board hanging in my lime green basement bedroom with candy striped carpet. Ah, sweet memories of teenage years…
“Tranquil Garden Bouquet” had me smiling broadly Thursday afternoon. (Photo credit: Randy Helbling)
I must sidetrack here for a moment to share that my dear family of three adult children, two sons-in-law and two grandchildren sent me the most stunning flowers Thursday afternoon. I cannot begin to tell you how much that bouquet and the enclosed message lifted my spirits. I felt as if a million smiley faces were floating in a thought balloon around my head.
I felt the same late Saturday afternoon after a visit from dear friends Tammy and Billie Jo. I haven’t seen Tammy in several years; she and her family moved to northwestern Minnesota. When Tammy walked in the kitchen door, we embraced in a fierce hug. And I realized just how much I’ve missed her. I nearly cried at the joy of seeing her again. And so the three of us talked and laughed and talked and laughed and talked and laughed. Laughter heals.
Me, five days after eye surgery, posing in front of Dave Angell’s photo of alligators in Africa. (Photo credit: Randy Helbling)
My grandkids often make me laugh with their observations. Isaac, 5, didn’t let Grandma down after I texted a photo to his mom, my eldest daughter Amber, on Saturday. The day prior, Amber sent an image of Isaac outside the crocodile exhibit at the Minnesota Zoo. So when Randy and I viewed an exhibit by Faribault wildlife photographer Dave Angell at the Paradise Center for the Arts Saturday morning, I knew I needed a photo of me with Angell’s photo of alligators in the wilds of Africa. (Angell’s one gifted photographer.)
Isaac was not impressed by my efforts. “Those aren’t real!” he told his mom. I read his response and laughed aloud. Laughter heals. Oh, yes, it does.
Not a good photo at all…but this gives you an idea of what my eyes look like. Randy took this pic Tuesday afternoon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2024)
TWO DAYS OUT from bilateral strabismus eye surgery at M Health Fairview Surgery Center at the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis, I am looking less Frankenstein’s monster than I did. Not that I look exactly like the fictional monster created by Dr. Victor Frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s novel. But I feel like I appear as ghoulish with my red, fluid-leaking eyes.
All humor aside, surgery to correct my eye misalignment went well. Neuro ophthalmologist Dr. Collin McClelland and his team performed the 1 ½-hour surgery on both eyes Monday morning with adjustable sutures stitched in my left eye. Post surgery, Dr. McClelland pulled the left eye stitches to tweak the alignment before tying them off. Yes, I was awake. Yes, it was painful.
On surgery day, the surgeon was pleased with results. Healing, time and my brain adjusting to my new vision will determine the final outcome. But I am optimistic that my double vision will be mostly, or totally, eliminated.
In the meantime, I’ve dealt with pain managed by over-the-counter meds and have tried to rest my eyes. For someone who likes to read and write, it’s a challenge to limit both. But when my eyes hurt, I’m relieved to shut them.
Finally, last night, I slept well. Each day brings improvement. Less pain. Less blood and fluid seeping from my eyes. Healing takes time and patience.
Randy has been a great support along with serving as resident nurse and pharmacist. He squeezes ointment into my eyes thrice daily to prevent infection. I struggle with putting anything in my eyes and would likely misjudge and stab my eyes with the ointment tube. I can’t have that happening.
Occasional blurry vision and double vision, especially upon awakening in the morning, continue. My eyes feel gritty. This is not unexpected. My eyes have been through a lot of trauma with this surgery. The surgeon found extensive scarring in both eyes from this same surgery done in 1960 by Dr. Theodore Fritsche in New Ulm. Dr. Fritsche’s corrective repair of my misaligned four-year-old eyes lasted 60-plus years. If my new surgeon’s work lasts that long, I will be good to go.
Onward.
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FYI: I will continue to limit my screen time as I recover. But feel free to leave comments because I will read them at some point. I likely will not reply, though. I appreciate all of the support, encouragement and prayers from you, my dear dear readers. Thank you.
Once I’m feeling better and am able to write more, I will share more about my surgery day experience. I assuredly have stories to tell (once a journalist, always a journalist) from my time at M Health Fairview, where I received excellent and compassionate care.
My eyes have always been drawn to rocks in nature, here in the creek twisting through Falls Creek Park, rural Rice County. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2020)
THEY WERE ROCK HOUNDS, the great uncles who hunted, collected, cut, polished and made rocks in to jewelry. The bachelor brothers were passionate about their hobby, delighted to share their enthusiasm, and their rock collection, with their great nieces and nephews.
I remember the excitement of arriving at Uncle Walter and Uncle Harvey’s Redwood County farm home, where they lived with my great grandma and with their sister Dora. My siblings and I nearly flew out of Dad’s Chevy, through the front door of the farmhouse and down the basement stairs to Rock Station Central.
Agates in water, Faribault Farmers’ Market. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2019)
My great uncles enthusiastically welcomed us, showing us Lake Superior and honey agates, garnets, geodes and all sorts of rocks they’d found on their forays West and to Minnesota’s North Shore. We fingered uncut stones and polished stones as the pair schooled us in identifying rocks. And they always, always, sent us home with handfuls of small polished stones. And occasionally they gifted us with jewelry they’d made.
The Straight River churns over rocks at Morehouse Park in Owatonna. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Although this scene played out decades ago, my fascination with rocks remains. I still find myself looking for agates, admiring unusual stones while out in nature. I’m no rock hound, simply someone who appreciates the beauty of rocks thanks to those two caring great uncles.
My friend Joy paints rocks with inspirational messages and fun art. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2023)
Joy’s original rock art. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2023)
But my interest, my search for rocks has taken a modern day twist, one Walter and Harvey likely would approve of even if not a purist form of rock collecting. I collect inspirational and artsy rocks with my camera. These are painted rocks upon which a single word, message or image has been written, painted or adhered. Whenever I find one—and I’ve found them in many public places throughout southern Minnesota—I photograph them. I feel the same giddiness I experienced many years ago in that farmhouse basement.
Found at Mineral Springs Park, Owatonna. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2020)
Colorful stickers on painted rocks found at the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2023)
Found in Faribault’s Central Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
My thrill in discovering painted rocks focuses on the positive messages or images thereon. There’s something undeniably beautiful and wonderful and uplifting about these inspirational rocks. I feel such happiness, such gratitude for the individuals who create, then share, these stones. Rather like my great uncles who showed their love for family via sharing of their rock collection.
Single words inspire on a series of painted rocks found at the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2023)
This painting of rocks has spread worldwide as The Kindness Rocks Project with a mission “to cultivate connections within communities and lift others up through simple acts of kindness.” It’s a simple, and much-needed, project in a world filled with discord, division and, yes, even hatred.
Found outside a meat market in Lonsdale. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2023)
A simple message found at Falls Creek Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2022)
A fun find at the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2023)
We need more inspirational, artistic rocks scattered in public spaces. I’ve most often found them in parks, tucked along the edges of flowerbeds, sometimes on ledges and steps and at the bases of trees. I’ve found them along trails, outside a public library. Typically they are hidden in multiples.
An especially inspiring message written on a rock painted by Joy. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2023)
All it takes are stickers and stones to create art, this found at the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2023)
This rock painted by a great niece sits on my office desk, a daily inspiration to me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
My reaction is always the same. Joy. Excitement. I’m suddenly that little girl again standing next to her great uncles at Rock Station Central. I feel loved. I feel, too, as if I’ve uncovered a treasure, a treasure of kindness and positivity and inspiration. And that uplifts me, gives me hope for humanity, that much goodness still remains in this world.
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FYI: For anyone in southern Minnesota interested in rock collecting (like my great uncles did), the Steele County Gem and Mineral Club meets at 6 pm on the second Monday of the month at the Owatonna Public Library.
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