Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Creativity unleashed at Bethany, my alma mater January 14, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:05 AM
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TYPICALLY, COLLEGE ALUMNI magazines hold my interest only long enough to thumb to the section where class updates are printed. I read those and then toss the publication into the recycling bin.

But recently, the bold, artsy cover of the November issue of the Bethany Report, the alumni magazine of Bethany Lutheran College, caused me to take a closer look at an article detailing the school’s new media arts program. I’m a Bethany grad, which in 1976 offered only a two-year associate arts degree to undergraduates.

Today this scenic hilltop campus in Mankato offers an array of four-year degrees, including one in communications, my eventual major at Minnesota State University, Mankato. Oh, how I wish majors and minors had been available back in my Bethany years, because I loved that small Christian college.

All of that aside, today’s Bethany students with an interest in communications, the fine arts and technology can enroll in the media arts major. I don’t pretend to know how Bethany’s program compares to that of other colleges.

I did my own editing on this recent photo of a Bethany billboard along U.S. Highway 14.

I did my own editing on this recent photo of a Bethany billboard along U.S. Highway 14.

But when I saw that magazine cover design emphasizing the media arts program and then an equally vivid, eye-catching billboard along U.S. Highway 14 near Janesville recently, I was impressed enough to visit the BLC website.

There I clicked onto a portfolio showcasing the creations of current and former students.

I’m no expert on the fusing of art, technology and communication. But I liked what I saw. And perhaps that uninformed spontaneous reaction counts for more than the dissected opinion of anyone in academia.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

At Trinity Family Game Night: Thou shalt laugh January 13, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 2:35 PM
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“TRICK OR TREAT,” I blurted upon my turn, realizing in the very moment I shouted those words that I had erred big time, as in a major brain fart moment.

My teammates’ mouths dropped. Their laughter chastised, mocked me. I could hear their question—“What were you thinking, Audrey?”—even though they dared not speak it aloud in the church fellowship hall setting. They exercised that bit of restrained Christian charity.

But I deserved the laughter. Who would respond “trick or treat” to a Family Feud question about a popular holiday greeting? Me.

First, the specific Family Feud game version we were playing focused on Christmas, a theme I failed to remember. Second, Halloween may be a holiday for kids, but not officially.

Thus went the annual Trinity Lutheran Church, Faribault, Family Game Night Christmas Party on Saturday, an event that always brings laughter. Lyda, who attended with her husband, Sean, and daughters, Rosemary and Anne, summarized the get together quite well in an email thank you to party planner Billie Jo. “We haven’t laughed this much in a long time,” Lyda wrote. Me either.

Laughter is good for the soul, even if the laughter is sometimes because of you.

Mandy, left, and Billie Jo vie to open a gift wrapped in multiple layers of boxes and wrapping paper and secured with layers of duct and packaging tape.

Mandy, left, and Billie Jo vie to open a gift wrapped in multiple layers of boxes and wrapping paper and secured with layers of duct and packaging tape. Rules called for contestants to dress in scarves, hats and mittens before attempting to open the gift.

From the exchange of white elephant gifts (more on that shortly) to the drawing of a Christmas scene upon a paper plate placed atop our heads, to tearing snowmen from paper tucked behind our backs to the pushing/near-wrestling/grabbing involved in the competitive unwrapping of a single gift secured in layers of paper and rolls of duct and packaging tapes to parceling M & Ms into bowls, the evening’s activities showcased comedic competitiveness.

Racing to sort M & Ms by color is not as easy as it looks.

Racing to sort M & Ms by color is not as easy as it looks.

Honestly, you would not expect grown-ups to behave like this, especially in church. But, and this is just my thought, I think sometimes we all need to act like kids, to let loose and freewheel our way through life, if but for a few moments.

We competed for prize packages like this snowman poop.

We competed for prize packages like this snowman poop.

Now if you’re thinking my Family Feud Halloween stupidity rates as the evening’s most memorable moment, you would be wrong. It ties with Jeff’s unwrapping of a white elephant gift which has become a Family Game Night Christmas Party tradition. For years, a gaudy holiday photo frame has circulated into the gift exchange. And, at some point, photos were added. Unbeknownst to Jeff, he grabbed the wrapped photo frame.

I knew, just knew, that my friend Jesse (who is a doctor, but not a medical doctor—so says his son Noah) would wrack his brilliant librarian brain until he came up with an incredibly creative photo to insert into the frame. Little did I know that my husband and I would be the subjects of Jesse’s creative efforts.

Jesse totally outdid himself. We party-goers erupted into thunderous laughter upon seeing his version of artist Grant Wood’s American Gothic.

The modern day version of Grant Wood's American Gothic painting was created by artist Jesse and features my husband and me. Outstanding, isn't it?

This modern day version of Grant Wood’s American Gothic painting was created by artist Jesse and features my husband and me. Outstanding, isn’t it? The garish frame will be regifted next year with a new photo inserted.

The only disappointment was that Jesse could not witness our reaction; he was home with his two youngest children who were ill. However, I asked Jesse’s wife, Tammy, to tell him I would be seeking revenge, to which there was some response about revenge belonging to the Lord. OK then, get back at/get even.

And I can get even, because that hideous photo frame is now in my possession. Yes, I actually stole the frame from Jeff at one point during the game because I really did not need a silverware tray from a dishwasher or two can coolers. My husband later stole this from Jeff—apparently for the can coolers.

I expect we broke many of the 10 Commandments Saturday evening what with stealing, infliction of bodily harm, mocking, maybe even coveting of some gifts, over-indulgence (ahem, consumption of too much chocolate)…

But we redeemed ourselves with laughter and with love.

Another of the wonderful prizes awarded to game winners.

Another of the coveted prizes awarded to game winners.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

How a circle of bloggers are using their voices to help a Minnesota family January 12, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 11:10 AM
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NEVER HAVE I FELT more connected to and appreciative of the caring community of bloggers than I have this week.

In just a matter of a few days a circle of bloggers have, together, shared the story of Tom and Nina Hedin of Glencoe. (Read my initial post by clicking here.) And in turn, their readers, family and friends have passed the story along via social media. Bob Collins at Minnesota Public Radio even picked up the story in the 5×8 section of his Friday morning News Cut column. (Click here to read that; scroll down to number 4.)

We are spreading the word about the Hedins’ great need for prayer, encouragement and financial assistance after Tom was seriously injured in a snowmobile accident one week ago this afternoon. He remained, as of Friday, in intensive care at Hennepin County Medical Center in Minneapolis. For updates on Tom’s condition, visit his Caring Bridge website by clicking here.

Nina and Tom Hedin with Jack and June.

Nina and Tom Hedin with Jack, 3, and June, seven months. Photo courtesy of Nina Hedin.

As you can imagine, this couple with two young children cannot manage their mounting medical bills and other expenses alone. Already, Nina received the first bill on Wednesday: $20,793 for her husband’s 50-mile air-link helicopter ride.

If you can assist the family financially, please consider doing so by contributing via the “Help for Tom Hedin” GiveForward account. You will find details by clicking here.

Now, I know some of you out there would prefer to give directly by writing out a check to the family. I am not yet aware of a way in which you can do this. So, if you know me well enough to have my personal email or snail mail address and wish to give in this way, I would be more than happy to pass along your contribution to the family.

You can also contribute via commenting on It’s Just Life, a blog written by Beth Ann Chiles of Iowa. For every comment on her blog during January and February, Beth Ann is giving 50 cents to the Hedins. Click here to link to It’s Just Life. Beth Ann has the most giving heart, each month selecting a beneficiary for her “Comments for a Cause” project.

That leads me right into Beth Ann’s blog post for today. You just have to read it because she spins a story into her post that gave me goosebumps when I first read it in an email from her a few days ago. You just cannot make up something like this. Click here to read this powerful and touching story as it relates to Nina Hedin. Be sure to leave a comment.

Like my friend Beth Ann, each of us has the power to make a difference. And this week a circle of bloggers have used their words to do just that. I have never been prouder to be a part of this blogging community.

I have a box of greeting cards in my office, one of them inscribed with this quote by the Chinese philosopher Confucius: “Words are the voice of the heart.”

Indeed.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

My in-house handyman rocks & so does Faribault Ace Hardware January 11, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:20 AM
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OH, MY DARLING, knock three times on the ceiling if you want me, twice on the pipes if the answer is no…

If you were a teen of the 70s, like me, you may remember that popular song by Tony Orlando and Dawn. I always connect “Knock Three Times” to a slumber party in the basement of my friend Marla’s house. Don’t ask because I really don’t remember details. I assume we were pounding the ceiling and/or pipes as that tune rocked out on the radio.

The other night it was my husband knocking thrice on the ceiling or pipes as he signaled for me to head to the basement with my camera. He had just finished vacuuming around the non-operating water heater and was ready for me to photograph him in handyman action. His idea, not mine.

So my Canon and I rocked our way down the basement stairs while I belted out the only line I remember from “Knock Three Times.”

Tools and light are in place to replace the thermo couple control on the water heater.

Tools and light are in place to replace the thermocouple on the water heater.

Once inside the cramped utility room, I wondered how the heck I was going to photograph anything except Randy’s behind as he crouched low to the floor to replace the thermocouple on our just shy of six years old water heater. As you can see, I didn’t manage to snap much in the deep dark depths.

But what I gained was hot water again and the reassurance that my spouse is capable of repairing nearly anything in our house.

I hate this brown sink. But, hey, at least I have hot water again flowing from my leaky faucet.

I hate this brown sink. But, hey, at least I have hot water again flowing from my leaky faucet.

Say, about that hole in the dining room wall and the leaky kitchen faucet and the…

Oops, I nearly forgot to tell you this, and it’s an important part of the story. We bought our water heater in March 2007 at our local Faribault Ace Hardware. When Randy stopped by after work  to inquire about the warranty replacement part, the helpful Ace guy found the right piece and then told Randy to bring in the defective part and he’d get his money back. He didn’t even ask for a proof of purchase from six years ago. How’s that for great customer service?

We agreed that we likely would not have experienced the same ease in acquiring a replacement part under warranty had we purchased our water heater at an out-of-town Big Box retailer. Excellent customer service is the main reason we shop local as much as possible.

HAVE YOU EXPERIENCED similar outstanding customer service at a family-owned business? Let’s hear.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

“Life can change in an instant”: A Minnesota family in need January 10, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:58 AM
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IT IS THE MOMENT we all fear—the late night phone call, the unexpected knock on the door.

For Nina Hedin, a young mother from Glencoe whom I highlighted in a magazine feature about 10 Minnesota bloggers, fear became reality on Saturday afternoon. Her husband, Tom, was seriously injured in a snowmobile accident.

Photo of Nina Hedin published in Minnesota Moments, winter 2012 issue.

I got to know Nina about a year ago, when she was among 10 Minnesota bloggers highlighted in a feature I wrote for Minnesota Moments magazine. This photo of Nina published in that winter 2012 story.

Here then, in Nina’s words, is the beginning of her family’s new reality:

I’ve told this story so many times over the last two days that the words are flying out of my fingers and onto this computer faster than I am thinking them.

Saturday, January 5, Tom left after lunch to ride snowmobile a little bit; he was going to visit a friend just outside of town. Around 3 pm he had still not returned and he had not sent any messages or called. This was VERY unusual for Tom and I was worried. Normally he’ll be out for 30-45 minutes and always, ALWAYS sends me random text messages.

I called friends that Tom sometimes rides with to ask if he had been by.

I hopped online to see if he used our check card anywhere; maybe he stopped for something to eat or there would be another clue.

At 4:30 pm there was a loud knock at the door. My stomach dropped. I knew it would not be good. I knew it. The county sheriff told me that Tom was in an accident and was to be airlifted to HCMC.

Fear, panic, adrenaline…

Nina and Tom Hedin with Jack and June.

Nina and Tom Hedin with Jack and June.

This, dear readers, breaks my heart. Even though I’ve never met Nina or her family, I remained connected to Nina after writing that initial magazine feature (which you can read by clicking here). I continued reading her The Adventures of Artsy Nina blog and we exchanged occasional emails. She is a vivacious, creative (she also runs two Etsy shops, Camp Honeybelle and Nina Baran Upcycled Vintage Jewelry)  and caring individual with a delightful sense of humor.

So when the call went out to Nina’s circle of blogging friends to share the Hedins’ story, I didn’t even have to consider. Helping someone in need, especially a friend, is the right thing to do. And the family needs assistance, both financially and in prayer.

Blogging about an evening out with her husband in early December, Nina wrote: "We held hands and ran the short block home through the first snow fall of the season, laughing and enjoying the end of a good night."

Blogging about an evening out with her husband in early December, Nina wrote: “We held hands and ran the short block home through the first snow fall of the season, laughing and enjoying the end of a good night.”

Here again, in Nina’s words, are the injuries her beloved Tom suffered:

Injuries listed from top to bottom; brain hemorrhage and complications, fractured orbital (eye) socket, facial lacerations, fractured T6 vertebrae, broken and dislocated right wrist, broken left elbow and fractured upper arm, left knee cap broken with severed tendon and puncture wound, right knee ligament injury.

He faces a long, hard road to recovery. As of yet we are unsure of the extent of damage to the brain, and the recovery time/therapy needed for his limbs and back will take months.

A recent photo of Tom with Jack and June.

A recent photo of Tom with Jack and June.

You can only imagine the insurmountable medical bills this couple in their early 30s, with two children, Jack, 3, and seven-month-old June, will face. An online “Help for Tom Hedin” account has been set up at GiveForward to assist the family with mounting medical and day-to-day expenses. The goal is to raise $100,000 by March 9.

Please consider offering your financial support by clicking here. Together we can make a difference and ease some of this family’s financial worries. Perhaps your friends, church group, family, co-workers, card club, coffee group, etc., can join efforts to collect monies for the Hedins. Every dollar, whether ten or 500, helps.

Because Tom has been with his current employer for only six months, he does not qualify for benefits under the Family and Medical Leave Act. He has been his family’s main source of financial support.

Please also pray for the Hedin family and their medical team. I am a firm believer in the power of prayer.

Tom with Jack and June at Halloween.

Tom with Jack and June at Halloween.

In closing, let’s listen to Nina one last time with this excerpt from her January 8 blog post, “Life Can Change in an Instant”:

It’s a cliche. You hear it all the time, think it some of the time, but you don’t really get it until something happens to you and yours.

Life as you know it can change in an instant.

Hug your kids, your husband, your mom, your dad, your neighbor, your friend. You never, ever know what that next moment might bring.

TO OFFER WORDS of encouragement and support and/or to read the latest updates on Tom’s condition, visit his CaringBridge website by clicking here.

NINA’S BLOGGER CIRCLE of friends is already posting her family’s story. Click here to read a post by Montana resident and former Minnesotan Bernie at One Mixed Bag.

Then click here to read a post by Beth Ann from Iowa at It’s Just Life. For every comment posted to her blog during January and February, Beth Ann is donating 50 cents to the Hedin family for medical expenses. This is part of Beth Ann’s ongoing “Comments for a Cause” campaign. So simply by commenting on any of Beth Ann’s posts during the next two months, you will be helping Tom, Nina, Jack and June.

© Text and photos copyright of Audrey Kletscher Helbling and Nina Hedin
Photos courtesy of Nina Hedin

 

I finally learn to cook with Minnesota wild rice January 9, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:32 AM
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TO CONFESS THAT I am a native Minnesotan who’s never cooked with wild rice may equate a sin. I’m not sure. If anything, such a confession is akin to a Norwegian admitting he/she has never tasted lutefisk.

Minnesota blogger Sue Ready, when she learned that I’d never cooked with wild rice, remedied that. She gifted me with a pound of 100 percent wild rice from Quality Rice Products, Inc., Garrison. How kind was that? I’ve never met Sue, who blogs at Ever Ready. But she encompasses what I’ve come to expect in the bloggers I follow—a deep-rooted goodness.

If you check out Sue’s blog (click here), you will soon discover an abundance of recipes woven into her posts. She clearly enjoys time in the kitchen. I do not.

But I was up to the challenge Sue presented in that bag of wild rice. I chose one of her recipes, Artichoke Turkey Casserole, which includes 1 ½ cups of wild rice, for my debut attempt at cooking with northern Minnesota’s beloved grain.

Measuring the uncooked Minnesota wild rice before rinsing.

Measuring the uncooked Minnesota wild rice before rinsing.

The first problem: How do I even make wild rice?

I found instructions tucked inside the bag, but then faced my first obstacle. How do you rinse and drain wild rice without the kernels filtering through the colander? Do not use a colander apparently.

Next, after cooking the rice for the specified 45 minutes, the grain still crunched beneath my teeth. So I added another seven minutes to the simmer time and called it good, not really knowing whether I’d cooked the rice long enough or too long.

I just want to note here that the nutty aroma of the wild rice intrigues me. It smells of earth, although not precisely of earth. Perhaps rather the scent combines earth, water, fire, sky, even the history and traditions of the Ojibwe, early harvesters of this manoomin, the “good berry.”

Sauteeing diced carrots, onion and red pepper.

Sauteeing diced carrots, onion and red pepper.

Because I’d cooked the rice earlier in the day, I resumed making the hotdish with the dicing of vegetables—carrots, onion and red pepper—and the boiling of noodles. I already had the two cups of chicken (substituted for the turkey) which my husband grilled the previous evening.

About 45 minutes later, I had the dish pulled together with the assistance of the husband who sliced artichokes, stirred together cream of chicken soup and milk, and measured cheese while I chopped and sauteed the veggies and tended the noodles. Typically I can multi-task in the kitchen, but preparing this hotdish took way more time than I anticipated and I was getting hungry. And, as everyone in my family knows, I get crabby when I can’t eat at my usual time.

A wonderful blend of textures is presented in this hotdish.

A wonderful blend of textures is presented in this hotdish.

When I eventually pulled the hotdish from the oven, I couldn’t wait to dig my fork into this truly Minnesotan dish. I suppose an explanation is due here to those of you unfamiliar with Minnesota’s version of casseroles, known in our state as hotdish. Most hotdishes include a cream soup and noodles, this one no exception.

I wondered, though, about that combination of noodles and wild rice. But it works. The crunchy texture of the rice kernels pairs well with the creamy consistency of the noodle mixture.

Even though this hotdish includes a teaspoon of dried thyme and a tablespoon of parsley flakes, I found the flavor a bit too bland for my taste.

Yet, with a sprinkling of salt and fresh ground pepper added,  it’s a tasty and filling comfort food for a cold Minnesota winter evening.

Now that I’ve assured myself I can cook with wild rice—a food which always intimidated me—I’m ready to try preparing wild rice soup. After all, a cup of raw rice equals five cups of cooked rice, meaning I have plenty of manoomin for additional dishes.

Thanks, Sue, for expanding my cooking skills via your gift of Minnesota wild rice.

HAVE YOU COOKED with wild rice and, if so, what’s your favorite dish to prepare?

FYI: To try Sue’s Artichoke Turkey Casserole, an adaptation of a Better Homes and Gardens Comfort Foods recipe, click here.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Missing my boy, again January 8, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:11 AM
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I’LL ADMIT TO A BIT of melancholy. My son, my youngest, returned to college in Fargo on Sunday. I try not to think that he is 300 miles away to the west, just like my second daughter lives and works 300 miles to the east in Appleton, Wisconsin.

I realize they could live much more distant. Five hours by car in the big wide world is nothing really.

But to a mom accustomed to 26 years of direct face-to-face parenting, the switch to no children in the house is huge.

The funny thing is that I thought I’d adapted. And then, lo, the son returns home for three weeks of Christmas vacation and I get used to him being around and it’s kind of nice to hear that “Mom, can I have a hug?” It’s wonderful to rest my head against my boy, who towers above me. I didn’t mind washing his laundry or weaving around his belongings scattered upon the living room floor. I found myself planning meals based on what he might enjoy; one day I even made his favorite banana cream pie.

Yes, I rather spoiled him.

But not too much.

He accused me in one particular moment of being a helicopter mom. I try hard not to do that, to interfere, to suggest, to offer too much advice. But apparently in this instance I had. I suppose that is one of the toughest parts of parenting, realizing that sometimes lessons are better learned on their own. Miss a deadline and you suffer the consequences. Make the wrong decision and you have to deal with the outcome. Yet, steering our offspring from erring seems a natural parental response.

My 18-year-old son, shortly before my husband and I left him in his dorm room on the campus of North Dakota State University four weeks ago.

Our 18-year-old son, shortly before my husband and I left him in his dorm room on the campus of North Dakota State University in mid-August.

Prior to holiday break, I’d seen my son only four times since mid-August. And each time I noticed subtle changes in him which indicate growth in maturity and independence. He seems also to appreciate me more.

I continue to be impressed by his determination, his constant desire and drive to learn (often on his own), his focus, his discipline.

On numerous occasions, as he huddled over his laptop and a physics book these past few weeks, I had to remind him that he was on Christmas break and should, therefore, take a break from studying. But he seemed persistent in preparing for the physics exam he will soon take in an effort to test out of a class.

The afternoon he bounded down the stairs to tell me he made the dean’s list with a 4.0 GPA and that he’s six credits shy of junior year status going into his second semester at North Dakota State University, he was beaming and I wrapped him in a proud mama hug.

One of my all-time favorite photos of my son at age 5.

One of my all-time favorite portraits of my son at age 5.

In moments like that, I gaze at him and wonder how nearly 19 years could have passed already. Since birth he’s been his own person, the biggest baby in the hospital at the time weighing in at 10 pounds, 12 ounces. He walked at 10 months. He was putting together 100-piece puzzles by age four. Legos were his passion. He taught himself all about computers. He taught himself to yo-yo and then how to unicycle and then yo-yoing and unicycling together. Now he’s learning juggling.

His quest for knowledge seems unstoppable.

A current image of my son in the new eyeglasses he got over Christmas break. he brought home three frames to try for style and then his two sisters and I chose our favorite and we all picked this one. His oldest sister said the style fits his personality and makes him look smart. I agree and think they also age him, which is not a bad thing when you are almost 19 and do not want to look like you are still in high school. Note that these are the try-on frames, which explains the writing on the lens and the tag on the bow.

A current image of my son in the new eyeglasses he got over Christmas break. Note that these are the try-on frames, which explains the writing on the lens and the tag on the bow. I think the frames fit his personality and age him, in a good way.

The movement of time is also certainly unstoppable and I am reminded of that nearly daily, but especially when I consider the growth of children.

While my son was sleeping in this past Saturday morning, I was waiting in a check-out line behind a young father, his first-born cradled in a car seat in a shopping cart. To pass the time, with the father’s permission, I began interacting with his six-month-old roly-poly baby. Jacob smiled and cooed and “talked” in that charming baby way that melts a mother’s heart. And I couldn’t help but advise the new dad to cherish these moments because, before he knew it, his boy would be all grown up, just like mine.

TELL ME, ONCE our children leave home, do we ever truly stop missing them?

AND FOR THOSE OF YOU who have lost children too soon, how do you honor them, hold close their memories, even cope?

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Prairie poetry January 7, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:25 AM
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Along U.S. Highway 14

Along U.S. Highway 14 between Sleepy Eye and Springfield on the southwestern Minnesota prairie.

THOSE WHO CATEGORIZE the southern Minnesota prairie as flat, boring and in the middle of nowhere truly have not seen.

South and west of Waseca, along U.S. Highway 14, a train cuts across the flat farm land.

South and west of Waseca, along U.S. Highway 14, a train cuts across the flat farm land.

Perhaps you are one of them—a traveler passing through this land defined by horizontal lines. Your patience for the endless miles of vast sky and open space expires shortly after you exit the city.

The horizontal lines of railroad tracks and farm buildings define this scene near Janesville along U.S. Highway 14.

The horizontal lines of railroad tracks, utility wires and farm buildings define this scene near Janesville along U.S. Highway 14.

You cannot fathom how anyone can live here, let alone appreciate this landscape.

East of Courtland, rows of bales edge a farm site.

East of Courtland, tidy rows of bales edge a farm site.

But I challenge you, the next time you are hurrying from City A to City B, to look beyond the pavement, beyond the preconceived ideas you have about rural Minnesota and specifically of the prairie.

West of Springfield, a snow fence emphasizes the horizontal lines of the prairie.

West of Springfield, a snow fence emphasizes the horizontal lines of the prairie.

View this landscape as an artist’s canvas. Before your eyes, you will begin to see the bold lines, the wispy strokes, the colors (or lack thereof), the composition of a scene.

The ethanol plant near Janesville on a cold December morning.

The ethanol plant near Janesville on a cold December morning.

You will feel the strength of the artist’s brush in the wind.

One of my favorite barns along U.S. Highway 14, west of Sleepy Eye.

One of my favorite barns along U.S. Highway 14, west of Sleepy Eye.

You will read poetry in the simplicity of the uncluttered landscape and in the fortitude and kindness of those who inhabit this place.

And then, perhaps, you will begin to connect to a land which possesses an infinite beauty unlike any other.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A peek at Wisconsin’s Packers obsession on game day against the Vikings January 5, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:15 AM
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I PERHAPS SHOULD NOT even publish this post, being a Minnesotan and a Minnesotan who does not watch football.

But even I can’t ignore all the hype about the big play-off game this evening between the Minnesota Vikings and the Green Bay Packers.

Have I watched a football game yet this season? No.

Have I watched a single sporting event yet this season? Yes, I did watch parts of the summer Olympics.

Within that context, you might rightly surmise that I don’t care much about sports. While I can appreciate an individual athlete’s talent, sports as entertainment (for some, but not me), and the value of athletics in teaching discipline and teamwork and in making for a good physical work-out, I dislike the adulation of/obsession with athletes in our sports-crazed world.

Father and daughter Green Bay Packers fans from Appleton. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Father and daughter Green Bay Packers fans from Appleton. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

That segues us right into Wisconsin. Not until my second daughter moved to Appleton, 30 miles south of Green Bay, two years ago, did I understand just how devoted/obsessed/crazed Wisconsinites are about their Packers, but in a fun-loving sort of way.

For example, when my husband and I shopped at Appleton’s Festival Foods last October, the day before a Packers game, we came across a display of gold and green brat buns. We  just stood there and laughed and I wished I’d had my camera. Next time I’m buying some of those Packers buns and sneaking them into Minnesota. That would be easier than trying to do a food photo shoot at Festival Foods.

If you check out the Festival Foods’ website, you will note that the website colors are, not surprisingly, green and gold.

Game Time Kettle Korn. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Game Time Kettle Korn. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

A year ago, while shopping at Lamers Dairy in Appleton, I spied Game Time Kettle Korn, dyed green and gold, of course.

Packers fans houses in Wautoma? Or simply a gold house and a green house?

Packers fans houses in Wautoma? Or simply a gold house and a green house? Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

And then there are the two neighboring houses in Wautoma, which is west of Oshkosh. I still wonder whether those houses were painted green and gold because of the Packers or because the homeowners especially like those colors. I’d have to vote for the Packers connection.

Near Omro along Wisconsin Highway 21, I saw this Packers-themed BEEF-FENSE! sign for McDonalds.

Near Omro along Wisconsin Highway 21, I saw this Packers-themed BEEF-FENSE! sign for McDonalds earlier last year. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Billboards offer another prime venue for Wisconsinites to express their devotion to the Packers.

A tribute to Aaron Rodgers.

A tribute to Aaron Rodgers. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

But perhaps the most creative public display of Packers support is along Wisconsin Highway 10 west of Appleton near the New London exit. Here, on a highly-visible barn, you’ll discover a tribute to Green Bay Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers. We spotted that Packers notation last trip since we, once again, skirted the unending road construction on U.S. Highway 41 between Oshkosh and Appleton (and around Green Bay; be forewarned).

So, you see, as much as I don’t care about football, I find Wisconsin’s devotion to the Packers both amusing and entertaining.

Icy cold beer served up in a Minnesota Vikings mug.

Icy cold beer chilling in a snowbank in my Minnesota backyard. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Go, Vikings!

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

What’s your take on these St. Paul moments? January 4, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:10 AM
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A view of the Minneapolis skyline from Interstate 35 on a light traffic day. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

A view of the Minneapolis skyline from Interstate 35 on a light traffic day. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

SELDOM DO MY HUSBAND and I venture into the Twin Cities.

I abhor the heavy traffic rocketing down the interstate, especially that one crazy driver who weaves from lane to lane.

I detest the Interstate 35W/Interstate 494 interchange, which throws our vehicle into the midst of a dodge ball game. I am not a nail biter. But, at this juncture, I bite my nails as my husband tries to merge into near bumper-to-bumper traffic on I-494 before the right lane ends.

You get the picture. Mostly, we stay out of the metro, unless we need to drive to Fargo where the son attends North Dakota State University or we need to visit our eldest daughter in south Minneapolis or the in-laws, most of whom live north of the metro.

An edited cell phone snapshot of Kellogg Boulevard shot from the skyway into the Xcel Energy Center.

An edited cell phone snapshot of Kellogg Boulevard shot from the skyway into the Xcel Energy Center.

But last Saturday we had to travel to St. Paul for the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert at the Xcel Energy Center. I’d rather motor toward St. Paul any day given the traffic (at least when we’ve driven there) in the capitol city seems less rushed, less dense (you can take that word “dense” either way) than in Minneapolis.

A file photo of the stunning Minnesota state capitol in St. Paul.

A file photo of the stunning Minnesota state Capitol in St. Paul.

I also appreciate the less urban feel of St. Paul versus Minneapolis. I expect this assessment, right or wrong, stretches back to my childhood knowledge of St. Paul as the home of the state Capitol and the South St. Paul Stockyards and Minneapolis as the location of the Foshay Tower.

Both of the Twin Cities can be seen in this view taken from the state capitol. You can see the downtown Minneapolis skyline in the distance.

Both of the Twin Cities can be seen in this view taken from the state Capitol. You can see the downtown Minneapolis skyline in the distance to the left. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Alright, I probably should not stir up a battle between the Twin Cities here. That is not my intent. Rather, I want to share a little story from our recent foray into St. Paul. The eldest daughter’s boyfriend lives and works there, so we stopped after the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert to see his apartment and then dine out at Cafe Latte.

That visit to a sprawling apartment complex across from Mears Park brought the first odd moment of the evening. During the elevator ride to the underground parking garage, a young woman stepped inside and promptly pressed herself into a corner, her back to the four of us. I was so stunned by her strange behavior that I remember thinking “What is wrong with her?” and “Should I say anything?” I noticed only her long auburn-dyed locks, her knee-high boots and the paper towels crammed into a plastic bag gripped in her right hand. I never saw her face.

Should I have spoken to her?

The second unusual moment came when we were dining at the Cafe Latte along historic Grand Avenue. While savoring my tasty asparagus chicken stew and smokey turkey pasta salad, I noticed a football-player-sized man peddling M & Ms directly outside the cafe’s front door. Anyone trying to enter Cafe Latte would have to weave around the man blocking the entry. Many diners pulled bills from their wallets. By the time we finished our meal, the mysterious Candy Man had vanished.

Who was this Candy Man? And would you have purchased M & Ms from him?

Finally, on our way back to the daughter’s car, parked in a ramp just off Grand, we encountered a woman who’d been standing inside the ramp entry before we ate. This time, upon our return, she asked, “Can you spare $1.75 for bus fare?” None of us reached into our billfolds.

Should we have given this woman money? How long had she been standing there and how much money had she collected?

Perhaps all of these incidents are common occurrences in the Twin Cities. I really do not know. But for this out-state Minnesotan, the moments were impressionable and, certainly, unsettling.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling