Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

A look at “Jake’s Women,” on stage at the Paradise April 22, 2026

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The program cover for “Jake’s Women,” now playing at the Paradise Center for the Arts, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2026)

THEATER ENTERTAINS. But often it also makes us think, and think deeply.

That’s the case with Jake’s Women, a play by Neil Simon now unfolding on the stage of the Paradise Center for the Arts in Faribault.

I attended the play on opening night last Friday after volunteering to greet guests at the door. I admit I felt hesitant about watching this drama because I expected the content might unsettle me. It did. But sometimes we need a jumbling of emotions and thoughts in a controlled setting.

CONTROL

Control. Main character Jake, played by Jake Gustine, struggles with control issues, especially in his relationships. He’s a writer, which in itself requires discipline and control. Fiction writers shape characters, stories, dialogue, control the plot. As a writer who’s written short stories, I understand the craft and could, in many ways, relate to what I was hearing from Jake on the stage.

But this play stretches beyond control and Jake’s work as a writer to his relationships with women. He’s struggling in his marriage to Maggie, his second wife. His first wife, Julie, died. I’ve been married for 44 years. That’s enough decades to realize partners won’t always agree—and they shouldn’t. There will be joys, struggles and hard times. But I’ve found through all of it, the good times and the difficult ones, that my husband and I balance one another and that our love for one another has grown and deepened through the years.

COMMUNICATION

Communication is a hallmark in any relationship. That message resounds in Jake’s Women. As a professional communicator/writer, I wanted to walk onto the stage and yell at Jake, “Listen, just listen!” That’s how invested I was in the play. I consider myself to be a good listener, a necessary skill for my previous work as a newspaper reporter with a bachelor of science degree in Mass Communications. Listening seems underrated. But I’m convinced if we all listened more than we talked, we would all get along better.

CRISIS

There are certainly many conflicts between Jake and the other seven characters in this play. But conflict also exists within Jake as he experiences delusions while in the throes of a mental health crisis. He struggles to separate fact from fiction, a mark of psychosis. I appreciate whenever mental health gets a spotlight if for any reasons other than to raise awareness and educate.

Throughout the play, Jake “talks” to the women who have been an important part of his life. Here the play gets interesting. The audience needs to pay close attention to lighting to determine when Jake is living in reality and when he is delusional. The set never changes and Jake never leaves the stage, which is a feat in itself during a play that lasts more than two hours.

I quickly found that I could not allow my mind to wander during this theatrical production directed by Palmer Huff and performed by the Paradise Community Theatre. I had to listen closely to every word spoken by Jake Gustine and performers Brianna Bauernfeind, Linda Anderson, Charli Gomez, Casper Andersen, Kate Southwick, Clair Borgerding and Kris Snow.

Jake’s Women is an intense play. It’s also thought-provoking. And it’s a play I highly-recommend you see.

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FYI: Upcoming performances of Jake’s Women are set for 7:30 p.m. Friday, April 24, and Saturday, April 25, and at 2 p.m. on Sunday, April 26. Click here for ticket information.

TELL ME: Have you seen Jake’s Women? If yes, what are your thoughts on the play?

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Local Latinos voice concerns in “Dear Northfield” project March 18, 2026

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Panels created by Rocky Casillas Aguirre are written in both Spanish and English, on display recently at the Northfield Public Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

I APPRECIATE WHEN LEADERS think outside the box, using creative ways to gather and share information.

Take a project in the southern Minnesota riverside college town of Northfield, home to more than 2,000 Latinos, representing some 10 percent of the city’s population. A 2023 city-inspired effort led by a collective of local Latino artists and activists was tasked with developing a connective public art project focused on Latino voices.

Getting the conversation going… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

Among the results was a poster campaign, “Dear Northfield,” by Latino artist Rocky Casillas Aguirre. He interviewed 100 Latino residents, asking this question: “If you could write a letter to the people who govern our city, what would you tell them?”

The results are colorful, eye-catching panels that reveal invaluable insights from Northfield’s Latino population. I recently saw six of Aguirre’s art posters displayed in the atrium of the Northfield Public Library, a community gathering spot.

At first glance, the artwork reminds me of illustrations in a children’s picture book or drawings in a cartoon. That’s a signature style of Aguirre, born in Mexico, raised in Northfield and a resident for more than 20 years. His art grabs attention in vivid cultural colors.

But it is the comments on those posters which especially deserve a close look as they address topics like housing, transportation, food, culture, communication and connection.

On the topic of local businesses… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

In their own words, Latino residents of Northfield share their thoughts, their concerns, their hopes, their dreams. They wish for Latino businesses downtown, shops where they can buy Mexican-made products, foods familiar and comforting to them.

On the topic of housing… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

They want affordable housing, options other than living in trailer houses and apartments.

On the topic of culture and entertainment… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

They want local Latino-based cultural choices in music, entertainment and art, specifically naming murals. That seems doable in Northfield, which has always embraced public art and has multiple murals.

They want more options for youth, like a Latino youth center.

On the topic of representation in local government… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

They want more representation in city government and increased connections and engagement between white people and Latinos.

None of these seem like particularly big asks, although some certainly take time and money to implement. It’s good to get the conversation going.

The panels as viewed from outside the Northfield Public Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2026)

I hope other communities follow Northfield’s example and use art as a way to share information that will help build a stronger, better and more culturally-aware and diverse city. A place where everyone can thrive, no matter their color, no matter their language, no matter their culture.

© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Commentary: Floods, alligators & an email July 7, 2025

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Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo used for illustration only)

I HAVE SEVERAL THINGS on my mind today which are roiling my emotions. Not on a personal level. But on a broader, national scale.

First, I feel heartbroken over the loss of lives in Texas following flash flooding. The latest death count I’ve read is eighty-five, 27 of those children. Dozens remain missing. Most heart-rending are the deaths of the young campers at a summer camp. I think many parents, myself included, can relate to dropping a child off at camp with the full expectation that they will be there when we come to pick them up at camp’s end. For too many, a parent’s absolute worst nightmare—that of losing a child—is now reality. I feel for anyone who has lost a loved one in these floods, no matter their age. I am thankful for the 850 rescued thus far.

Titles of two photos in the “Testify” exhibit I saw. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2025)

ALLIGATORS

Secondly, I’m deeply-troubled by the gloating and hype about “Alligator Alcatraz,” a deportation detention facility in Florida. Those in power have been flaunting the name, stating quite clearly what will happen to anyone who tries to escape. There’s nothing remotely “funny” about alligators attacking and devouring human beings. There’s nothing “funny” either about placing people in cages. But neither seems to bother those who are vocally promoting this facility in such a vile way.

As soon as I heard the words “Alligator Alcatraz,” I was reminded of a traveling exhibit, “Testify—Americana Slavery to Today,” that I saw at my local library in April. Within that exhibit was a studio portrait of nine unclothed Black babies and toddlers sitting or standing in one long line. The circa 1897 image by a photography studio was simply titled “ALLIGATOR BAIT.” I remember standing there, my jaw dropping in disbelief. The photo was right above another image, that one of the African-American 9th Calvary Regiment, ca. 1939.

Then I read the text below the two photos: The juxtaposition of photos heightens the irony of being hawked as unwanted, or “alligator bait,” while at the same time being drafted into a calvary regiment to serve in the name of the United States’ highest ideals. Historians have actually investigated to determine if African-American children were indeed used by hunters to lure alligators. The results were somewhat inconclusive, but the fact that research was needed is telling.

I wondered when I saw the “ALLIGATOR BAIT” photo how humans can be so cruel? I wonder the same today.

Hands of an octogenarian used for illustration only. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

A TROUBLING EMAIL

Lastly, a few days ago I received an email from the Social Security Administration, which I initially thought to be phishing given the title, “Social Security Applauds Passage of Legislation Providing Historic Tax Relief for Seniors.” Turns out this was legit. I’m sure many of you got the same email.

As I read on, I couldn’t quite believe what I was reading—a clearly partisan piece of propaganda from an agency I thought was non-partisan. Not only that, the content was not complete or accurate.

Whoever crafted this email and thought it was OK to mass-send, it is not OK.

LET’S DO BETTER

There you go. This is what’s on my mind today, just days after celebrating the Fourth of July in a country I love, even with all its faults, atrocities, injustices and troubles. But we can, and must, do better. I believe we can.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Tick. Tick. Tick. April 30, 2025

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One of the clocks in my small collection of vintage alarm clocks. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

TIME TICKS. Things to do. Places to go. Appointments to keep. People to see. Conversations to have. Books to read. And for me, also, stories to write, deadlines to meet. Tick. Tick. Tick.

As I age, I feel more cognizant of time and the need to use it in the best possible way. The need to balance work and leisure. The need to spend more time with my core family. The need to use my talents in a positive way, in a way that makes a difference. The need to be there for, and serve, others. Tick. Tick. Tick.

We can’t stop time and aging. But we can manage how we use our time. I’m of the age where there’s significantly less time ahead of me than behind, although none of us knows the number of our days on this earth. Tick. Tick. Tick.

An important message displayed on a Scrabble board at LARK Toys, Kellogg, MN. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I hope we can all use our time to show compassion and empathy for others. Be kind. Be that person who listens rather than talks. Be that person who smiles, who hugs, who holds a door open. Be that person who sends an encouraging text or note. Be that person who reaches out to someone who is hurting, grieving, in need and do whatever you can to uplift and help. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I used magnetic words to create this short message on my fridge. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Think before you speak or write, because words matter. Words can build relationships or words can destroy them. In a time when vitriol runs rampant, pause before letting words fly across a keyboard or from your mouth. I expect we all hold regrets for words we’ve written or spoken. Use self-control. Ask like you care. Time ticks. Let’s use our time in a way that embraces goodness and kindness, love and compassion. Tick. Tick. Tick.

WHAT WOULD YOU like to add to this conversation about the use of time?

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Connecting via “human books” in Owatonna September 12, 2023

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Photographed in the front window of a downtown Faribault business. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2022)

LISTENING TO AN AREA RADIO STATION Tuesday morning, I learned about a project which seems pure genius. It’s the Human Library®. Developed 23 years ago in Copenhagen and now spread internationally, the library “hosts personal conversations designed to challenge stigma and stereotypes.” And it’s coming to Owatonna this week.

From 4-7 pm Thursday, September 14, the Owatonna Human Rights Commission is hosting a Human Library® in the Gainey room at the public library. The goal is “to foster conversations that can challenge stereotypes and prejudices.”

Kids of varied ethnicities and skin tones gather as one to break a pinata at a past International Festival Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted, award-winning photo, 2012)

I love this concept of one-on-one conversations among community members who might not otherwise connect. If we’re honest, most of us tend to stick with others who are most like us. Those in our circles. But this, oh, this opens the doors to meeting new people, to understanding, to friendships and much more. And we can only be the better for it by talking with one another, learning, growing our knowledge and compassion.

The idea is simple. Check out a “human book” for 15 minutes by meeting with community members who’ve agreed to participate in the project. Ask questions. Share. Simply chat, get to know one another. Break down barriers. Find common ground. Embrace differences. “Read” as many “human books” as time and availability allow.

We are a diverse country, as represented at a past International Festival in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)

The list of 20 participating individuals in Owatonna is lengthy and diverse, exactly as intended: Somali Americans, African Americans, senior citizens, business owners, religious leaders, Hispanic, LGBTQ+, educators, veterans, handicapped individuals, law enforcement officers, nonprofit leaders, recovered addicts and healthcare workers.

A welcoming sign hangs on the American Legion building in small town Mazeppa. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2018)

Owatonna, like many communities in southern Minnesota and throughout the state, nation and world for that matter, has faced tough issues such as racism, prejudice, discrimination and hatred. Sometimes those issues are right there, publicly visible in ways that make me wonder how humans can treat each other with such disrespect and meanness. But just as dangerous are the insidious comments and behaviors that creep under the radar into communities. We all know they are there—the slights, the whispers, the off-the-cuff hurtful remarks, the intentional exclusion…

A welcoming message at Just Food Co-op in downtown Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2022)

I hold hope that projects like the Human Library® can effectively make a difference in enlightening, in changing attitudes, in helping each of realize that we are all human, more alike than we are different.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Connecting in life’s everyday moments August 30, 2023

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I love this positive message posted on a rear vehicle window. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)

WE STOOD OUTSIDE the local library, minutes before the 9 am weekday opening, waiting for staff to unlock the front door and let us inside. Rather than wait silently, I struck up a conversation with the elderly man next to me. I’ll always choose talking to a stranger over saying nothing. That’s my nature.

Via conversations, I have met many interesting individuals, listened to their stories, sometimes shared mine. It’s all about pausing, about truly taking the time to engage others in meaningful ways, if even for a minute or ten.

On this morning, I learned that I was talking to a 94-year-old Korean War veteran. We had an instant connection as my dad also served in the “Forgotten War.” I sensed immediately that my new acquaintance did not want to talk about anything war-related and I respected that. My dad had been the same.

Instead I veered to a safe topic, this veteran’s early appearance at the library. “I have nothing else to do,” he said. My heart hurt at his words as I imagined how long his days stretch before him. He comes to the library to read newspapers. Not books. He struggled to read books in high school and never attempted since.

As we walked through the now open library doors, he ahead of me, I had one more thing to say. “I challenge you to read a book.” I doubt he will. But that’s OK. He reads newspapers, watches sports on TV. And on this day, he shared just a bit of his life story with me. And I felt honored to hear it.

Vintage dresses for sale at Antiques Plus in New Ulm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo March 2021 used for illustration only)

AT THE ANTIQUE SHOP

Weeks prior, I found myself unexpectedly assisting a bride-to-be as she tried on vintage dresses at a local antique shop. Tall and slender with a thick braid falling to the side of her left shoulder, Angela radiated beauty inside and out. I offered to zip the zipper-back dresses she was considering for her October rehearsal dinner. She slipped into a flared pink dress that, even on her slight frame, fit too tightly. Next Angela donned a sleeveless chocolate brown wool dress that seemed custom-made for her. But I wanted to be honest. “Wool can be itchy,” I warned. She agreed that the heavy, textured fabric did feel a bit uncomfortable. Finally, I zipped the last dress—a long white sleeveless dress in a nubby fabric. When Angela expressed doubts about wearing white, I advised she’s the bride and can wear whatever she desires.

I left before Angela made a decision on the vintage dresses. But I didn’t leave before I learned that she works as an engineer at a medical device company in the metro and that she loves her job. What a joy to meet a young woman so devoted and passionate about her profession. That gives me such hope. We also shared a faith-filled moment, one which I will keep private between me and Angela. I consider her an angel in every sense of the word and felt blessed to have met her.

Roxy of Owatonna sent me a clutch of uplifting mini cards which I can give to others. She has been such an encourager to me during my recent health struggles. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)

IN A GROCERY STORE PARKING LOT

Last Saturday, I experienced another uplifting moment, this time in a grocery store parking lot. The auburn-haired teen wheeling my cart full of groceries to the van asked about my plans for the rest of the day. I had none, I said, then asked about hers. She was meeting friends after work. As we parted, I told her to have fun with her friends. And she wished me a good day. Again, I felt such hope. This young woman could have simply pushed the cart, unloaded the groceries and said nothing. But she chose to engage. That says a lot about her character, her humanity.

It is everyday encounters like this which fill my spirit. Life offers so many opportunities to connect, to be there for one another. Whether to converse, to encourage or to zip the backs of vintage dresses for a bride-to-be, opportunities await us. We need only pause, listen, care.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The Weekly Phone Call May 11, 2023

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My sweet mom, featured on the Parkview Facebook page, Mother’s Day 2020. (Photo credit: Parkview Senior Living)

IN EVERYTHING I WRITE, truth rests. In creative nonfiction, more than any other genre, truth writes the story. In poetry and fiction, life experiences, observations and emotions weave into poems and stories. Not necessarily the full truth, but based on reality. The adage “write what you know” rings true for me.

In 2017, I wrote a short story, “The Weekly Phone Call,” and entered it in the Jackpine Writers’ Bloc annual competition. That work of creative nonfiction along with two poems, two fictional short stories and another piece of creative nonfiction were chosen for publication in Fine Lines, The Talking Stick Volume 26. It marked my most successful year with TS, an annual anthology featuring work by Minnesota writers or those with a connection to Minnesota.

Five of my works (poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction) published in Fine Lines. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2017)

The book title, Fine Lines fits my selected entry, a story about the Sunday evening phone calls I made to my mom. Every. Week. I looked forward to them, as did Mom. My short story is one of raw emotions, of grief and pain. And today, days before Mother’s Day, seems an appropriate time to share this piece of my writing.

I hope it sparks an understanding that simple connections linking us to those we love are to be valued. When Mom could no longer hold or talk on a phone in the years before her January 2022 death, I felt a deep loss. I missed her voice. I missed her stories. I missed sharing my life with her. And today, I miss her, as I try to recall her voice, the words she spoke, yet always remembering the love we shared.

Parkview Senior Living in Belview, where my mom lived for many years. While 120 miles separated us, Mom and I remained connected via our weekly calls. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

The Weekly Phone Call

It’s 6:30 p.m. on Sunday when I punch the green phone icon.

“Hello, Arlene speaking,” she answers, the indiscernible dialogue of a television blaring in the background.

“Hi, this is Audrey,” I say, then wait while she turns off her TV. “How are you doing?”

Her answer never deviates. She is tired and blames the weather. Already sadness threads through my thoughts. Inside the sheltered walls of a care center, she can’t feel the bite of a winter prairie wind, the drench of rainfall, the smothering humidity of a July afternoon. She feels only artificial heat and cold while sequestered in her over-sized dorm style room.

My mind drifts as Mom laments an in-house obsession with BINGO, recounts an escape attempt by a friend—big and exciting news—and complains of failed jets in the whirlpool tub. I listen, insert appropriate responses, and await the usual repetition of information.

When she repeats herself, I say nothing. There is no point. My love prevails in silence. But inside, my anger rises at her declining memory. I want the mom who never forgot a birthday, who remembered what she ate for lunch, who knew names. I miss her undeniably kind and positive spirit. I am grieving.

But I tell her none of this. Instead, I end our conversation with “I love you” and a promise to call her next Sunday, at 6:30 p.m.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Original 2017 publication credit: Fine Lines, The Talking Stick Volume 26

 

Why I still mail Christmas cards December 15, 2022

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Christmas cards land in my mailbox from Minnesota and across the country. (Minnesota Prairie Roots edited and copyrighted photo December 2022)

I NEARLY DIDN’T MAIL Christmas cards this year. Not that I didn’t want to send holiday greetings to family and friends. But the cost of cards and postage stamps caused me to pause and seriously consider. If I only mailed two dozen or so cards, this wouldn’t even be a concern. But I send more than 80, maybe even close to 100. I’m not counting. The expenses add up.

When I purchased $60 in postage stamps recently, the postal clerk thanked me for supporting the post office. I shared that my second daughter is a US mail carrier who works incredibly long hours six days a week delivering mail in Madison, Wisconsin. I hold a new appreciation for these hardworking postal employees like my daughter. She walks 10-12 miles a day on her route, starting in the dark of morning and ending in the dark of mid-evening. I figure we all owe these postal workers some grace, especially during the busy holiday season.

But back to those Christmas cards. The actual cards were another reason I nearly scrapped mailing holiday greetings this year. I couldn’t find any at a reasonable price. Like everything else, the cost of cards has skyrocketed from the usual $3 I pay for 24 cards to $6 – $8 for half as many. Eventually I found some discounted at a Big Box retailer, but still at a higher price than I liked.

The thing is, sending and receiving cards is one of my biggest holiday joys. I love reconnecting with people from my past (college roommates, co-workers, extended family, etc) and staying connected to those who are still very much a part of my life. I love opening envelopes to find family photos, cards and letters. I don’t even care any more if the letters are mass-produced. At least I’m getting updates. Occasionally a handwritten letter arrives, rare treasures in today’s world.

Even I send a photo-copied letter, confined to half a page. It’s not that I don’t have more to write. I do. But, again, I’m thinking cost. Ink is expensive. I also realize people are busy and don’t necessarily want to read a two-page recap of 2022. So I hit the highlights in an edited version of my life.

It’s always interesting to see what others write in their holiday letters. I like humor and storytelling. I dislike lengthy lists of accomplishments and travelogues that go on and on. I begin to feel like my life is rather boring and unaccomplished when I read such scripts. That said, it’s OK to include both, just in a balanced way.

All my Christmas cards are in the mail. I finished this holiday task in a full card signing, letter folding, address writing, postage stamp sticking, envelope licking blitz over the weekend. And now I wait for my mailbox to fill with holiday greetings, one of my greatest joys of the season.

TELL ME: Do you mail Christmas cards/letters/photos? Why or why not?

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Thoughts on words January 25, 2022

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Magnetic poetry words I strung together and posted on my refrigerator. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2022)

WORDS MATTER. Which we use, how we use them and when. They can hurt. They can uplift. They can communicate a message. They can unite. They can divide. Words are, undeniably, powerful. And sometimes we’re better off not speaking or writing them.

When words are used in anger, in a knee-jerk reaction to something, then the consequences are often negative. “Think before you speak” seems particularly sage advice. Yet, we all forget and fail to filter our thoughts before they slip off our tongues or fingers.

Likewise, I find myself also pondering the depth of words, particularly when asked, “How are you?” More often than not, at least here in Minnesota, that’s a trite question. The expectation is that you will answer, “Fine.” Even if you’re anything but fine. People don’t necessarily want to hear about your problems/struggles/challenges.

But I challenge you the next time you ask, “How are you?”, to ask like you care. And by that I mean pausing, focusing, looking the other person in the eye and picking up on cues that indicate maybe, just maybe, everything isn’t all right. Listen. Take the time to show genuine care without interjecting your story. Empathy is good, but not at the expense of turning the conversation on you.

TELL ME: What thoughts do you have on words, whether written or spoken? What about listening? Is it a lost art?

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Not so awesome words January 11, 2022

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(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2022)

“IT IS WHAT IT IS.” If I hear that phrase one more time, I shall scream. Inwardly, at least.

Here’s why. I find that string of five words dismissive, uncaring and impolite. Let’s say you’re talking to someone about a difficult situation—whether personal or affecting many (like COVID)—and that individual responds with, “It is what it is.” That reply closes the door. Correction, slams the door to further conversation.

That statement, in my opinion, indicates the other person hasn’t listened to anything you’ve said, doesn’t care and/or simply accepts whatever with no concern about your thoughts or feelings. End of discussion. Alright then. Too many times I’ve felt dismissed by “It is what it is.”

How about you? Do you feel the same about that phrase?

And then there’s the word “awesome.” If I hear that word one more time, I shall scream. Inwardly, at least. It’s overused, thus meaningless. And what exactly is meant by “awesome?” Rather than use a generic word, I want to hear specifics. What makes something/someone “awesome?”

As a wordsmith, words matter to me. As someone who considers herself skilled in the arts of observing and listening, word choice resonates.

So I suppose you could simply tell me something is “awesome” and “It is what it is” as a way of explaining why something is “awesome.”

THOUGHTS, ANYONE? What words or phrases cause you to scream, inwardly, at least?

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling