Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Forever rooted to rural Minnesota September 13, 2013

Rural, barn and bins

RURAL MINNESOTA LONG AGO claimed my heart. It is the place where I grew up, the land I love, the connection to earth and sky and elements that, despite more than three decades of living in town, has never vanished.

Rural, roof collapsing

I’m rooted to the land and I find myself often longing to turn onto the gravel driveway, to swing open the creaky barn door, to follow the corn rows.

Rural, barn with windmill

I ache for the days when I lived on the farm. Sunset and sunrise unbroken by buildings. Wind rustling. The heady scent of freshly-mown alfalfa. The rich earthy smell of the land at planting time and harvest. Wagons brimming with corn. Quiet. Stars studding the blackness.

Rural, barn quilt

Today I still claim rural Minnesota—in my memory, through the lens of my camera, in the words I write. And that is my solace, the road I follow back home.

FYI: These edited photos were taken earlier this summer in the Vernon Center/Amboy/Truman area of southern Minnesota.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Oh, the things you see & hear at a vintage farm show September 6, 2013

WHENEVER I ATTEND the Rice County Steam and Gas Engines Show in rural Dundas, I never quite know what I will discover, or hear.  Look and listen.

Displayed at the Friends of Minnesota Barns booth.

Displayed at the Friends of Minnesota Barns booth.

I noted the above sign at the Friends of Minnesota Barns booth. Then the guy manning the display shared a story from the Le Sueur County Pioneer Power Show a week earlier. A man and his wife read the sign. The husband asked, “Will you take my wife in trade?”

She shot back, “You’re the INSERT SLANG WORD FOR MULE in the family.”

The Friends of Minnesota Barns guy and I laughed, oh, how we laughed.

Speaking of INSERT SLANG WORD FOR MULE HERE, EXCEPT IN PLURAL, look at this lawn art by opinionated Bob Michniewicz of Madelia. You never quite know what Bob is going to say or create.

"Quality Lawn Ornaments" from Michniewicz Sales.

“Quality Lawn Ornaments” from Michniewicz Sales.

I did a double take on this potty humor:

Brand loyalty and barn humor.

Brand loyalty and potty humor. Seriously, I could not believe I was seeing this. I grew up with John Deere farm equipment.

Let me show you something sweet and endearing:

Family time at the playground.

Family time at the playground on vintage playground equipment.

And patriotic:

Flags abound at the show.

Flags abound at the show.

This reminds me of my growing up years on the farm and the Farmalls my dad owned and I drove (a B Farmall to be exact):

Vintage Farmalls.

Vintage Farmalls.

Loren Fossum's corn picker. That is not Loren driving, though.

Loren Fossum’s corn picker. That is not Loren driving, though.

I was just plain giddy when I saw this vintage 1960s corn picker, similar to one my Dad used but not a Ford. Loren Fossum of Northfield recently purchased the combo tractor and corn picker for a bargain price, which I won’t reveal because maybe Loren doesn’t want that publicized.  He told a little story about overhearing a conversation among several young men trying to figure out what type of equipment they were viewing. They finally concluded that the blue monstrosity was designed to take down trees. Wrong. That would be corn, boys.

Another reminder of life on the farm, spotted at the flea market:

Oh, how I loved to twirl the handle on my dad's vise grip until I tightened something, maybe a block of wood, in place.

Oh, how I loved to twirl the handle on my dad’s vise grip until I tightened something, maybe a block of wood, in place.

And just because I found this Cropgard Farm Dryer interesting:

I spent many a childhood day playing in farm wagons, covered wagons in my western-themed eyes.

Apparently not just an ordinary vintage farm wagon.

This quartet was so engrossed in viewing photos of the homemade John Deere tractor that they didn’t even notice me. Sweet. I love capturing moments like this that tell a story:

Immersed in tractor talk.

Immersed in tractor talk.

Tractors everywhere:

Rows and rows and rows of vintage tractors define this show. For me the interest lies in the artsy aspect of these machines.

Rows and rows and rows of vintage tractors define this show. For me the interest lies in the artsy aspect of these machines. Just look at the front of this Massey Ferguson–the font, the grill…

More cool vintage:

Anything rustic and vintage has visual appeal.

Anything rustic and vintage appeals to me visually.

My parting shot, taken through the fence on the back of bleachers, says it all: Passing a love of tractors along to the next generation.

Passing a love of tractors on to the next generation.

To future generations of John Deere tractor lovers…

AFTER VIEWING THESE IMAGES, let’s hear from you. Do any of these photos spark memories or thoughts? Please share.

Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A crop dusting photo essay August 27, 2013

Frame 1

Frame 1

I’M NOT NECESSARILY a fan of the end result of crop dusting—some chemical sprayed upon a field with the residue sifting into the air and upon the earth.

Frame 2

Frame 2

But watching a crop dusting plane at work does fascinate me.

Frame 3

Frame 3

On a recent Saturday afternoon, while traveling Minnesota Highway 28 en route to Morris, I was entertained by a crop duster spraying a cornfield near Westport.

Frame 4

Frame 4

Frame 5

Frame 5

Frame 6

Frame 6

Just ahead of the van in which my husband, son and I were traveling, the plane skimmed across the highway before completing a sharp turn to pass back over the roadway and across acres of corn.

Frame 7

Frame 7: How low do you think this plane is flying?

I am no aviation expert, but it seems to me that special skills and a dose of daredevil courage are required to fly a crop duster.

Frame 8: Just the tip of the plane visible above the cornfield.

Frame 8: Just the tail and wings of the plane visible above the cornfield.

Thoughts?

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Meet Bill, the sweetcorn salesman August 21, 2013

Bill Edelback sells sweetcorn, a green pepper, three cucumbers and a zucchini to my husband, Randy.

Bill Edelbach sells fresh vegetables to my husband, Randy.

I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND why Bill Edelbach sold an entire pick-up full of sweetcorn and other farm fresh vegetables while parked along a busy street corner in Kenyon this past Sunday.

Cucumbers and peppers, three for $1.

Cucumbers and peppers, three for $1.

He’s quite the salesman, pointing me to the peppers and cucumbers and zucchini when my husband and I had stopped only for sweetcorn.

Even a few heads of cabbage for sale.

Even a few heads of cabbage for sale. Tomatoes are slow in ripening this year, Bill says.

For more than 50 years, Bill has vended veggies grown on his Kellogg area farm. You can see those years chiseled in lines across his forehead, around his eyes, through his cheekbones.

Years of work etched in Bill's face.

Years of work etched in Bill’s face.

Bill has the kind of weathered face that I love to photograph, a face that distinguishes him as a long-time farmer. One who loves the land and the food he grows. He’s a hard worker; you can see that in his thin frame, in his hands.

Gotta appreciate the handcrafted signage as much as Bill.

Gotta appreciate the handcrafted signage.

There’s another thing you should know about Bill.  Something like 30 years ago, he says, Tombstone Pizza folks were traveling around to small towns for a marketing campaign. They came upon Bill and his veggie vehicle parked in Cannon Falls, bought the whole truckload of sweetcorn, and moved him and his truck this way and that while photographing the scene.

Bagging our sweetcorn late Sunday afternoon.

Bagging our sweetcorn late Sunday afternoon.

That’s Bill’s claim to fame. Plus 50 years of selling his field fresh vegetables in small-town Minnesota.

For less than $5, we purchased half a dozen ears of sweetcorn, three cucumbers, a green pepper and a zucchini.

For less than $5, we purchased half a dozen ears of sweetcorn, three cucumbers, a green pepper and a zucchini.

In less than two hours, we were feasting on Bill's sweetcorn; garden fresh potatoes purchased last week from another roadside vendor; and smoked pork chops bought fresh at a local grocery store meat counter.

Two hours later we were feasting on Bill’s sweetcorn; garden fresh potatoes purchased last week from another roadside vendor; and smoked pork chops bought fresh at a local grocery store meat counter.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Stepping into yesteryear at the Blue Earth County fairgrounds August 1, 2013

Just inside the entry to the Blue Earth County Fairgrounds.

Just inside the entry to the Blue Earth County Fairgrounds.

PRIOR TO LAST FRIDAY, I’d never been to the Blue Earth County Fairgrounds, nor even to Garden City, the unincorporated community in which the fairgrounds is located. That would be south of Mankato, along the banks of the Watonwan River.

Log cabins on the fairgrounds include this one from 1860 and a replica of an 1839 cabin.

Log cabins on the fairgrounds include this one from 1860 and a replica of an 1839 cabin.

What a delightful place—like a step back in time.

The beef barn, shaded by an oak tree.

The beef barn, shaded by an oak tree.

Space for chickens and ducks and geese and such poultry.

Space for chickens and ducks and geese and such poultry.

Always a fair favorite, the sheep.

Always a fair favorite, the sheep.

Just look at these old-fashioned buildings and imagine the cattle, pigs, poultry and sheep trucked into this scenic spot for the annual showing of the best of the best.

I expect (hope) the 4-H food stand will be repaired before the fair.

I expect (hope) the 4-H food stand was repaired before the fair.

Imagine 4-Hers clutching coveted ribbons.

The open class exhibit buildings.

The open class exhibit buildings. Look at the splendid old doors on these structures.

Imagine the families and old folks, the neighbors and strangers mingling here to celebrate life in rural Minnesota.

Imagine the young lovers strolling the grounds.

My Aunt Marilyn remembers, more than 50 years ago, attending this fair on a weekday afternoon along with other Blue Earth County employees. “I suppose they don’t do that anymore,” she said.

I expect not, Marilyn.

 A posting of fair sponsors just inside the front gate.

A posting of fair sponsors just inside the front gate.

Today, August 1, through Saturday, August 3, you can experience this grassroots fair when gates open at the Blue Earth County Fairgrounds/Shady Oaks Campground in Garden City just off U.S. Highway 169.

CLICK HERE for detailed fair information and click here for info about the campground.

BONUS PHOTOS:

It seems every fairgrounds has an old school or church like this one.

It seems every fairgrounds has an old school or church like this one.

An on-site beverage stand.

An on-site beverage stand.

The Future Farmers of America building.

The Future Farmers of America building.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Appreciating the Sunday afternoon drive June 29, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:30 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , ,
Checking out the crops near Moland Lutheran Church in Steele County, Minnesota.

Checking out the crops near Moland Lutheran Church in Steele County, Minnesota.

ONCE UPON A TIME, I thought Sunday afternoon drives were reserved for farmers checking out the crops or for old people with nothing more important to do.

In Merton Township, Steele County, Minnesota.

In Merton Township, Steele County, Minnesota.

No longer do I think that. I now welcome these day trips into the country for the solace, the beauty, the discovery, the photo ops, the joy of whiling away an afternoon with no specific destination.

Along Rice County Road 21 south of Faribault.

Along Rice County Road 21 south of Faribault.

I love wide skies and open fields. I love old barns and gravel roads and cows grazing and tidy rows of corn. I love country.

Making hay, along old U.S. Highway 14 west of Owatonna.

Making hay, along old U.S. Highway 14 west of Owatonna.

In this crazy fast-paced world of scheduled activities and rare free time, such impromptu rural jaunts are to be embraced.

Near Clinton Falls in Steele County, Minnesota.

Near Clinton Falls in Steele County, Minnesota.

If you have not discovered the Sunday afternoon drive, you are missing out on one of life’s simplest and most soul satisfying pleasures.

Northwest of Owatonna along Steele County Road 17.

Northwest of Owatonna along Steele County Road 17.

On a farm site west of Owatonna.

On a farm site west of Owatonna.

A vineyard along Steele County Road 17.

A vineyard along Steele County Road 17.

Southwest of Faribault.

Southwest of Faribault.

FYI: The edited photos featured here are from a recent Sunday afternoon drive south and east of Faribault and then west and north of Owatonna looping back to Faribault. All images were shot from the passenger seat of our van at highway speeds, or slightly under.

Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

More photos from “A Day on the Farm,” Rice County, Minnesota June 24, 2013

BECAUSE I APPRECIATE  family dairy farms and because I am grateful to Ron and Diane Wegner and their daughters, Brianna and Kaylee, for opening their farm to area residents, here are more photos from “A Day on the Farm.” The Wegners hosted this event on Saturday in rural Rice County, Minnesota. Click here to see additional photos from my first post.

The beautiful old barn on the Wegners' property.

The beautiful old barn on the Wegners’ third-generation family farm.

The Wegners milk 50 registered Holsteins.

The Wegners milk 50 registered Holsteins.

A barn door...

This scene inside the barn caught my farm girl eye.

Fence leaning and wagon towing.

Fence leaning and wagon towing.

Twins Kelly and Emily, almost two, visit the farm with their dad.

Twins Kelly and Emily, almost two, visit the farm with their dad.

Rice County Dairy Maid Kelsey Kuball applied temporary tattoos.

Rice County Dairy Maid Kelsey Kuball applies a temporary tattoo to a young visitor’s arm.

A farm cat that was just a wee skittish with about 600 strangers visiting the farm.

A farm cat that was just a wee skittish with about 600 strangers wandering around the farm.

Rice County Dairy Princess Kaylee Wegner waits for kids to arrive for a photo with the calf.

Rice County Dairy Princess Kaylee Wegner waits for kids to arrive for a photo shoot with the calf.

A trio of silos next to the Wegners' barn.

A trio of silos next to the Wegners’ barn.

My favorite outbuilding, to the left.

My favorite outbuilding, to the left.

Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Reconnecting with my rural roots at “A Day on the Farm” June 23, 2013

NEARLY FORTY YEARS AGO I left the family farm in southwestern Minnesota bound for college in Mankato.

All these decades later I still miss the farm, yearn for those days of country quiet, the soothing pulse of the milking machine, the bellow of a cow, the nudge of a calf, the unmistakable scent of freshly-baled alfalfa.

Walking toward the Wegners' farm south of Faribault.

My first glimpse of the Wegners’ farm south of Faribault.

Saturday afternoon I reconnected with my rural roots at “A Day on the Farm” hosted by Ron and Diane Wegner and their daughters, Brianna and Kaylee, and sponsored by the Rice County American Dairy Association and the Minnesota Beef Council.

Vehicles lined both sides of Appleton Avenue near the Wegners' farm.

Vehicles lined both sides of Appleton Avenue near the Wegners’ farm.

The free meal was provided by the Minnesota Beef Council, the Rice County American Dairy Association and Hastings Co-op Creamery (to which the Wegners sell their milk).

The free meal was provided by the Minnesota Beef Council, the Rice County American Dairy Association and Hastings Co-op Creamery (to which the Wegners sell their milk).

Vehicles lined the gravel road leading to the Wegners’ dairy and crop farm south of Faribault as skies cleared and almost 600 visitors lined up for free cheeseburgers, malts and milk and then wandered the farm site.

Visitors toured the barn to see the cows and calves.

Visitors toured the barn to see the cows and calves.

It was a near perfect day—albeit a bit sultry—to check out this dairy operation, which, with 50 registered Holstein milk cows, 50 head of young stock and 15 springing heifers, still fits the definition of a family farm.

Rice County Dairy Princess Tracie Korbel takes photos while Dairy Princess Kaylee Wegner tends the calf.

Rice County Dairy Princess Tracie Korbel takes photos while Dairy Princess Kaylee Wegner tends the calf.

Turning the calf/kid photos into buttons.

Turning the calf/kid photos into buttons.

I felt comfortably at home here, remembering my years of feeding calves as I watched Rice County Dairy Princess Kaylee Wegner tend a calf while Princess Tracie Korbel photographed youngsters with the baby animal. The photos were then adhered to buttons.

Two-year-old Benjamin points out his "Got milk?" tattoo.

Two-year-old Benjamin points out his “Got milk?” tattoo.

Simple country pleasures: swinging and playing cow bean bag toss.

Simple country pleasures: swinging and playing cow bean bag toss.

The hay bale maze between the barn and the house. The scent of freshly baled alfalfa caused me to linger here for awhile.

The hay bale maze between the barn and the house. The scent of freshly baled alfalfa caused me to linger here for awhile.

Other kids’ activities included a hay bale maze, cow bean bag toss, temporary tattoo applications and a ride on a swing tied to a tree. Fun stuff on a rare stunning summer afternoon.

Ava, 2 1/2, lives in the Twin Cities. Her grandparents, who live near Dundas, brought her to the farm because she loves animals.

Ava, 2 1/2, lives in the Twin Cities. Her grandparents, who live near Dundas, brought her to the farm because she loves animals. My husband and I dined with Ava and her grandparents.

Familiarizing kids with a farm seemed a common thread among many for coming to the farm, according to host Ron Wegner. He heard on Saturday from many grandparents who grew up on farms and brought their grandkids because “they don’t know what a cow is.”

Inside the Wegners' barn, where dairy products come from.

Inside the Wegners’ dairy barn.

But Ron was hoping to educate more than the younger generation. When I asked why he agreed to open his farm to strangers for three hours, he explained that he wanted “the town people to come to a dairy farm and see where milk products come from.”

Benjamin, 2, lives on a buffalo farm near Lonsdale. His mom brought him to see a dairy farm. She was posing him for a photo on the tractor when I happened by.

Benjamin, 2, lives on a buffalo farm near Lonsdale. His mom brought him to see a dairy farm. She was posing him for a photo on the tractor when I happened by.

And that seemed as good a reason as any to someone like me, who grew up on a Minnesota dairy farm.

Several calves inside the barn were a hit among visitors.

Several calves inside the barn were a hit among visitors.

CHECK BACK for more photos from “A Day on the Farm” in rural Faribault.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A wannabe dairy princess June 20, 2013

The barn where I labored alongside my father while growing up on the southwestern Minnesota prairie. File photo.

The barn where I labored alongside my father and siblings while growing up on the southwestern Minnesota prairie. File photo.

GROWING UP ON A MINNESOTA DAIRY FARM, I’ve always loved dairy products.

Fresh milk from our herd of Holsteins.

Butter and cheese from the bulk truck driver who picked up milk from our farm.

Singing Hills Coffee Shop's delicious maple bacon sundae.

One of my new favorite ice cream treats, a maple bacon sundae from Singing Hills Coffee Shop in Waterville. File photo.

Ice cream from the Schwans man. (My older brother often sneaked the tin can of vanilla ice cream from the freezer and climbed atop the haystack to eat his fill. He failed to remove his spoon, leaving damning evidence connecting him to the ice cream caper. I was too obedient to attempt such thievery.)

Sliced strawberries, cucumbers and Amablu Gorgonzola cheese added to Romaine lettuce made a perfect salad. I topped the salad with lemon poppyseed dressing.

Sliced strawberries, cucumbers and Amablu Gorgonzola cheese added to Romaine lettuce make a perfect salad. I topped the salad with lemon poppyseed dressing. File photo.

My cheese tastes have, thankfully, expanded beyond American and Velveeta, staples of my childhood. I especially favor the blue cheeses made and aged in sandstone caves right here in Faribault and sold under the names Amablu and St. Pete’s Select. If you like blue cheese, this is your cheese.

Cow sculptures outside The Friendly Confines Cheese Shoppe in LeSueur. File photo.

Cow sculptures outside The Friendly Confines Cheese Shoppe in LeSueur. File photo.

I bring up this topic of dairy products because June marks an annual celebration of all things dairy during “June Dairy Month.” This moniker is imprinted upon my brain. I once ran, albeit unsuccessfully, for Redwood County dairy princess.

Krause Feeds & Supplies in Hope advertised the availability of Hope butter and Bongards cheese. File photo.

Krause Feeds & Supplies in Hope advertises the availability of Hope butter and Bongards cheese. File photo.

Steele County, to the south of my Rice County home, is apparently a big dairy county having at one time served as home to more than 20 creameries. One remains, in the unincorporated village of Hope, producing Hope Creamery butter in small batches. The creamy’s organic butter is especially popular in certain Twin Cities metro eateries.

Owatonna, the county seat, once claimed itself to be “The Butter Capital of the World.” That butter capital title will be the subject of an exhibit opening August 1 and running through November 10 at the Steele County History Center in Owatonna. The exhibit will feature the area’s rich dairy history to current day dairy farming in the county. Events will include a roundtable discussion on the dairy industry and, for the kids, butter making and a visit from a real calf.

Notice the cow art on the milkhouse in this image taken this past summer.

Cow art on the milkhouse of my friends Deb and John, who once milked cows in rural Dundas. File photo.

Calves. I love calves. More than any aspect of farming, I loved feeding calves buckets of warm milk replacer or handfuls of pellets. I once named a calf Princess and she became my “pet,” as much as a farm animal can be a pet. Then my older brother—the one who ate ice cream when he wasn’t supposed to—told me one day that my calf had died. I raced upstairs to my bedroom and sobbed and sobbed. Turns out he made up the whole story of Princess’ early demise. She was very much alive.

The vibrant art of Faribault artist Julie Falker of JMF Studio.

The vibrant art of Faribault artist Julie Faklker of JMF Studio. File image.

And so, on this day when I consider June Dairy Month, my mind churns with thoughts of butter and ice cream, of calves and of the dairy princess crown I never wore.

FYI: Faribault area dairy farmers Ron and Diane Wegner are hosting “A Day on the Farm” from 11 a.m. – 2 p.m. this Saturday, June 22. Their farm is located just south of Faribault at 25156 Appleton Avenue. The event includes children’s activities, photos with a baby calf and free cheeseburgers, malts and milk. Event sponsors are the Rice County American Dairy Association and the Minnesota Beef Council. The Wegners’ daughter, Kaylee, is the current Rice County dairy princess.

The Redwood County American Dairy Association in my home county of Redwood in southwestern Minnesota is sponsoring a coloring contest for kids and a trivia contest for adults. Click here for details. 

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Touring an historic mill in Morristown June 4, 2013

I WISH MY MEMORIES of the old feed mill were imprinted upon the pages of a book. Indelible ink. Words recorded so that I would always remember. The smell. The sound. The sights. The everything encompassing this agricultural business in my southwestern Minnesota prairie town.

I recall so little—the wooden steps leading to the feed mill; the ground feed residue lingering in the air and on surfaces; the ever-deafening grinding noise of machinery chomping grain; handsome operator Wally Anderson with his shock of white hair who lived in a well-kept corner house several blocks north; and the summer a ventriloquist sat in front of Vesta’s feed mill with a dummy perched on his knee.

The Morristown Feed Mill in Morristown, Minnesota.

The Morristown Feed Mill in Morristown, Minnesota.

Those faint wisps of recollection filtered through my thoughts on Saturday as I meandered through an historic 1860 grist mill along the banks of the Cannon River in Morristown. Once a year this rural southeastern Minnesota community opens the mill for tours and grinds wheat and corn.

A replica waterwheel built in 1997 by Theodore E. Sawle.

A replica waterwheel built in 1997 by Theodore E. Sawle.

I won’t even pretend to understand all I viewed and photographed at this mill once powered by a waterwheel, later by electricity.

A volunteer grinds wheat into flour in the old grist mill. Each time the waterwheel turns, it spins the millstone 17 times in the process of crushing grain between stones. The volunteer's wife bakes Communion bread for the local Methodist church.

A volunteer grinds wheat into flour in the old grist mill. Each time the waterwheel turns, it spins the millstone 17.5 times in the process of crushing grain between stones. The volunteer’s wife bakes Communion bread for the local Methodist church.

Initially, the mill opened in 1855 as a sawmill. But, within years, the business was replaced by Hershey Grist Mill, a mill for grinding grain into flour and livestock feed. On the afternoon I toured, a volunteer was grinding wheat into flour with the waterwheel powering the grinder. I had intended to buy a bag of the $2 wheat flour, but forgot in the midst of my photographic focus.

Guidelines for pig feed.

Guidelines for pig feed posted on a mixer.

The Morristown Historical Society today cares for the facility which closed in the 1970s as the Morristown Feed Mill, purveyor of livestock feed. For those like me, who grew up on a farm but have long ago left the land, such endeavors to preserve the rural past are deeply appreciated.

The conveyor belt powered by the waterwheel. This operates the grinder.

The waterwheel turns these pulleys and belts which operate the grinder.

While I walked the old wooden floor of the feed mill, descended stairs into the cluttered utility room where a dangerous conveyor belt cycled and afterward climbed stairs to the second floor, I reconnected with my rural roots.

The old feed mill is stocked with lots of vintage grinding equipment.

The old feed mill is stocked with lots of vintage mill equipment.

And it may not have been in the way you most likely would expect. For me, the experience was mostly about the dust—knowing I needed to protect my camera from the fine grain dust which permeates a place like this, layers on the skin, hovers in the air, filters into memories.

Inside the feed mill, where a volunteer stamps cloth bags with Morristown Feed Mill.

Inside the feed mill, a volunteer stamps cloth bags with Morristown Feed Mill. Behind the sign are two mixers.

An old fanning mill cleans the grain for planting.

An old fanning mill cleans the grain for planting.

When I heard mention of mice, I was a little nervous about going into the utility room.

When I heard mention of mice, I was a little nervous about going into the utility room.

The Cannon River dam right next to the mill.

The Cannon River dam right next to the mill.

FYI: As a side note, the mill sheltered several refugees from the U.S. – Dakota Conflict of 1862.  Check back for more mill photos.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling