Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by 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

 

Rural patriotism May 19, 2014

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Along Brown County Road 29 between New Ulm and Morgan, Minnesota.

Along Brown County Road 29 between New Ulm and Morgan, MN.

RED

Along U.S. Highway 14 between Mankato and Nicollet, MN.

Along U.S. Highway 14 between Mankato and Nicollet, MN.

WHITE

Along Brown County Road 29 west of New Ulm, MN.

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

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Bouquet 1

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.

Bouquet, roses close-up

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.

Bouquet, yellow gingham ribbon

I also stitched yellow and white checked aprons for my cousins who waited on tables at our wedding reception.

Bouquet, orange roses

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

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This colonial style home atop a hill along Wisconsin Highway 21 in Arkdale always catches my eye.

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 welcoming style.

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 sturdy farmhouse near Redgranite, Wisconsin.

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

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.

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.

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. A welcoming holiday banner still graces the front door three months after Christmas.

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

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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

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

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Newly-erected power lines, part of the Cap X2020 transmission line project, northwest of Morgan along Minnesota State Highway 67.

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 Highway 67 seems so small in comparison to the new transmission power poles.

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.

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.

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.

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