family | Minnesota Prairie Roots

Sisters share their gratitude & thoughts two weeks after a fatal fire December 18, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: Bernadette Thooft, faith, family, fatal fire, gratitude, Hazel Thooft, Isaiah Thooft, Lucan, Mary DeCann Benson, Matt Thooft, southwestern Minnesota, thoughts, tragedy

Bernadette and Hazel with their Minnie Mouses barely showing in this image. Photo courtesy of Mary DeCann Benson.

I FEEL EMOTIONALLY OVERWHELMED by the sisters’ words. For, in the midst of losing Hazel, 7, and Isaiah, 4, in a December 4 fire that destroyed the younger sister’s house near Lucan in rural southwestern Minnesota, they are thanking those who rallied to help.

Admitting that she is still in a “fog,” Bernadette Thooft says her family—including husband, Matt, and five surviving children—is “extremely grateful for the outpouring of love and support we have been shown and continue to be shown. I do not know if this makes sense or not, but we are overwhelmed by grief and pain and then are getting overwhelmed by love and support. In this horrifying time, God’s glory is shining through and we feel blessed by this.”

Heartfelt, faith-filled words written by a mother enduring a tragedy no parent ever wants to face.

Bernadette’s sister and godmother to Hazel Anne, Mary DeCann Benson of Texas, praises the efforts of volunteer emergency response teams from surrounding communities and then shares an especially touching moment: “That you (responders) found Hazel’s favorite pink Minnie Mouse in the ruins of the fire, cleaned it up, and returned it to Bernadette and Matt speak volumes as to how much of yourselves you give to the members of your communities. We will forever be grateful.”

She is appreciative, too, of family friend, Jennifer Christensen Zollner, who “worked around the clock” as a primary organizer and family liaison, and to the residents of neighboring communities for their generous love, support and prayers. Two days after the fire, the family moved into a fully furnished house in Wabasso. Accounts have been established online and at a Lucan bank to help the Thoofts. As of late Tuesday afternoon, 253 donations of just over $17,000 have been made to the Thooft family’s Giveforward fundraiser.

Mary offers a glimpse into the loving home in which Hazel and Isaiah and their five siblings have been raised. That consoles me, to hear that Bernadette and Matt “live their lives and raise their children by four guiding principles: God, family, community, self, in that order.”

“In a world that so often values the tangible,” Mary continues, “they have taught their children that the real beauty and value of life comes not from what you own, but from what you experience and most importantly, those you experience it with.”

Her sister and family dine together every evening, pray before meals and thank God at the close of each day for their daily blessings.

Then I laugh when Mary shares details of the Thoofts’ Sundays, designated as their “Family Day.” After church, Matt prepares pancakes for the kids, “dirtying way too many dishes” and leaving Bernadette to follow behind grumbling that “Dad needs to learn to clean as you go.”

I can visualize that big happy family gathering for pancakes and then later, as Mary notes, doing something special together. Extended family knows not to call on Sundays because their calls will go unanswered and unreturned until Monday.

Isaiah Thooft. Photo source: Stephens Family Funeral Home.

Isaiah Thooft. Photo source: Stephens Funeral Service.

Bernadette also planned special mother-daughter days with Hazel each month. And after the Thoofts adopted Isaiah, they changed his middle name to Matthew, after his new daddy. It is not lost on me that the name Matthew means “gift from God.”

In the thoughtful insights Mary reveals to me, I am consoled knowing that second grader Hazel and preschooler Isaiah knew Jesus and were embraced by a family that loved them deeply.

“Bernadette and Matt are not perfect parents and they would not appreciate me trying to make them out to be anything more than two people struggling to do their best on a daily basis,” Mary says. “They are good people, suffering a loss that most of us can never come close to understanding and they would be the first to say that they hope the rest of us will never have to.”

FYI: To learn how you can assist the Thooft family and Vesta firefighter Neal Hansen, who was seriously injured after being run over by a fire truck on the scene, please click here.

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Join the “Thanksgiving The Real Deal” movement November 21, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: "Thanksgiving The Real Deal", Black Friday, business, consumerism, Facebook, family, holiday, media campaign, opinion, retail, shopping, Thanksgiving, thoughts

TYPICALLY, I’M NOT ONE to jump on the bandwagon of a cause. If I have a strong opinion on a topic, I will express my viewpoint in a one-on-one conversation. That’s just me. But, occasionally, I will publicly voice my opinion here on a social issue.

This time that issue is retail stores opening on Thanksgiving Day and a new online grassroots effort to encourage people not to shop on Thanksgiving.

I wholeheartedly support my friend Beth Ann Chiles of Mason City, Iowa, and her co-organizer, Katybeth Jensen of Chicago, in their Facebook campaign, “Thanksgiving The Real Deal,” aimed at consumers, not retailers. Their premise is simple. If people don’t shop on Thanksgiving, retailers won’t feel pressured to be open.

Kind of the supply and demand premise. If there are no shoppers on Thanksgiving, there is no need for retail stores to begin Black Friday sales on Thursday.

Here’s a snippet of their thoughts:

Thanksgiving is about giving thanks, being grateful, and feeling content. It’s about timing dinner around football games, not store openings. It’s about arguing with family members over politics, not with strangers over a toaster. It’s about eating too much, not spending too much. It’s about dreading kissing Uncle Albert or Aunt Mabel, not dreading long check-out lines. It’s about acing someone out of the last piece of pie, not a parking spot. It’s about arguing with kids over dishes, not a trip to the mall. It’s about putting away left-overs, not shopping bags….

…Thanksgiving is the best deal in town; it’s priceless. Let’s work together to keep it that way by protecting it from retail fear and the bait of a bargain!

My brother and sister-in-law brought a stack of newspaper ads for us to peruse after dinner.

This photo shows Black Friday ads from a few years ago in a Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo. This image is not indicative of businesses open on Thanksgiving Day and is used here for illustration purposes only. On the “Thanksgiving The Real Deal” Facebook page, you will find a listing of retailers NOT open on Thanksgiving.

Now, choosing to endorse the “Thanksgiving The Real Deal” campaign was a no-brainer for me. I’ve never even shopped on Black Friday. I’ve heard, read and viewed the negative news stories about shoppers in pursuit of bargains. No, thank you. I’m not so driven to score a bargain that I would fight crowds or even arise early to shop on Black Friday.

Thanksgiving Day dinner at my house with family. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

And now that hysteria has edged into Thanksgiving Day, a holiday when we should be celebrating with family around the dining room table. I am very much a family-oriented person. I can’t imagine placing shopping before family or anyone wanting to work retail rather than gather with family or friends on Thanksgiving.

Some folks, like those with jobs in law enforcement, the medical field, firefighting and such, need to work, holiday or not. My second daughter, in fact, is on call on Thanksgiving Day as a Spanish medical interpreter. I won’t see her; she lives 300 miles away.

But if you are employed in retail, you shouldn’t have to work on Thanksgiving. These stores do not need to be open.

Like the organizers of “Thanksgiving The Real Deal,” I ask you to choose family instead of shopping. Show your public support for this cause on the campaign’s Facebook page (click here) and follow the suggestions to spread the word about this movement.

Focus, too, on giving thanks on Thanksgiving.

Stand strong against the societal pressures of consumerism. Choose not to shop on Thanksgiving.

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A mother’s reflections on her daughter’s birthday November 16, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: birthday, daughter, family, life, parenting, reflections, thoughts

EVEN AS A BABY, she was fiercely her own person.

Miranda didn’t snuggle. She cried way too much. In those early months, it was sometimes tough being her mother, dealing with a colicky infant while also nurturing my first-born, only 21 months older.

But that all seems so long ago now that my second daughter is turning 26 today.

Miranda and her dad, along the shore of Lake Winnebago near Appleton, when we last visited in October.

Miranda and her dad, along the shore of Lake Winnebago near Appleton in High Cliff State Park, when we last visited her in October.

Where have the years gone? I have asked myself that often this past year—the year in which my eldest daughter married, my 19-year-old son moved to Boston to attend college and my middle child, Miranda, is now edging away from 25. In many ways, it’s been a tough year for me as I adjust to life as an empty nester.

But then I consider my three and I can only be happy for them, proud of the independent adults they’ve become, seemingly content in their lives.

Take Miranda, the birthday girl. She’s lived and worked for the past three years as a Spanish medical interpreter in Appleton, Wisconsin, 300 miles from Faribault. She possesses a deep passion for her work and the people she serves. And there is nothing more noble in a job than to love what you do and to serve others.

Although I’m not privy to details due to patient confidentiality, I know Miranda has dealt with some difficult situations, interpreting for patients in hospital emergency rooms, physicians’ offices and elsewhere. It takes a special type of person to remain calm and professional and compassionate in the face of emotional stress and/or trauma. My daughter is all of those.

As a little girl, Miranda was all girly girl, wearing only skirts and donning ribbons in her hair. She also loved horses, including her stick horse, shown here in a photo taken when she was 5 1/2.

I wonder, sometimes, if that core strength and heartfelt empathy come from her own experiences. At age four, she underwent hernia surgery. Even now I can visualize my darling curly haired girl walking down the hospital hallway to the operating room, Big Bird clutched in one hand, the other hand held by a nurse. My preschooler never cried. I did.

And then, years later, she was diagnosed with scoliosis (an abnormal curvature of the spine) and wore a full torso back brace 24/7 for a year. That time we both cried at the diagnosis. But Miranda soldiered on and never complained although I know it had to be difficult for her. Life’s challenges often make us stronger.

Miranda is undeniably strong and independent. She’s studied, interned and vacationed in Argentina. On her second trip of three to South America, she was mugged. Not assaulted, thankfully. Thousands of miles away, I felt utterly helpless. Miranda managed, with the help of friends and my assistance back home, to work through the situation.

I need only look back at the baby and preschooler she was to see the roots of her independence and strength. I remember how, as a preschooler, Miranda would tell me to “go away” when she was playing alone in the toy room, now my office. So I would turn around and walk away, only semi understanding her desire for solitude.

That, I suppose, was the beginning of the letting go. As mothers, that is our ultimate goal—to let our children go. It is not easy, but that is our job from the moment they are born. I eased Miranda onto that path of independence early on, as much for myself as for her, by sending her to bible camp every summer, supporting her decisions to go on multiple mission trips (including two to clean up after Hurricane Katrina), sucking up my own worry and enthusing about her time in Argentina, and now, even though I wish she lived nearer than 300 miles away, accepting that she’s happy where she’s at in her life.

Now, on my daughter’s 26th birthday, I reflect on this beautiful young woman her dad and I raised. Miranda is a woman of faith, caring and compassionate and kind and giving, and, bonus, a darned good cook. Whenever we visit, she treats us to delicious home-cooked ethnic food. She worked two summers in the Concordia Spanish Language Village kitchen near Bemidji, where she learned to cook. I failed her in that skill.

But I succeeded where it counts, and that is in raising my girl to cherish God, family and friends and to pursue her passions in life.

Please join me in wishing Miranda a happy 26th birthday.

Happy birthday, Tib! I love you now and forever.

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I’m not anti pumpkin, but… October 30, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: family, Faribault, Halloween, Halloween costumes, jack-o-lantern, memories, Minnesota, pumpkins, thoughts, Twiehoff Gardens

The ginormous $10 pumpkins.

JUST DAYS BEFORE HALLOWEEN, Steve Twiehoff of Twiehoff Gardens, a family run produce business on Faribault’s east side, was trying to pitch an 85-pound pumpkin to me. For $10, the pumpkin would be mine and Steve would even load it into the van.

“The neighbor kids will love you,” Steve encouraged.

One of two wagonloads of pumpkins at Twiehoff's Garden.

One of two wagonloads of pumpkins at Twiehoff’ Gardens.

But truth be told, I don’t intend to purchase a pumpkin, big or small, this year.

All sizes of pumpkins are available.

Does that cast me in the role of a pumpkin Grinch? Maybe.

Late afternoon sunshine slants through the open poleshed door, spotlighting pumpkins for sale at Twiehoff Gardens.

In reality, the lack of a pumpkin purchase projects my present life phase as an empty nester. With no kids in the house, there’s no need to carve a jack-o-lantern. Not that I ever did; that was my husband’s job.

In 1994, my daughters, Amber, left, and Miranda, right, dressed as a butterfly and Dalmatian respectively. Their 10-month-old brother, Caleb, was too young to go trick-or-treating.

I focused, instead, on creating homemade costumes for our trio. Those ranged from taping hundreds of cotton balls onto a garbage bag for a sheep costume to stitching strands of red yarn onto trimmed panty hose for Raggedy Ann’s hair to dabbing black spots onto a white t-shirt for a Dalmatian to painting butterfly wings. What moms won’t do.

Five years later Caleb headed out the door dressed as an elephant.

I also transformed kids into an elephant, angel, pirate, cowboy and even a skunk, plus a few more characters/animals I’ve long forgotten.

Yes, I’ve done the Halloween thing. So, if for a few years I fail to buy a pumpkin, please excuse me.

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Remembering my mother-in-law, Betty October 18, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: Betty Helbling, death, family, Helbling, life, memories, mother-in-law, reflections, thoughts

Tom and Betty in a vintage photo, date unknown.

YOU THINK YOU WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER.

But then the years, the decades, slip by and the memories begin to fade.

You can’t picture their smile, hear their voice, recall their mannerisms.

Twenty years ago on October 16, my mother-in-law, Betty Helbling, died after suffering a heart attack the previous evening. She was just weeks shy of turning sixty.

I still remember that phone call around 9 p.m. on a Friday. Not every detail. Not even who phoned with the devastating news that my husband’s mother was in the hospital. Alive. But not alert.

I remember the request that we drive northwest to Little Falls several hours away. But the hour was late, the fog as thick as the proverbial pea soup making travel impossible for my husband and me and our two daughters, ages seven and five.

To add to the concern, I was five months pregnant with our youngest, the baby Grandma Helbling hoped was a boy after a long string of granddaughters. I knew, for my unborn child’s sake, that I needed to remain as emotionally unstressed as possible, which was impossible given the situation.

It was a mostly sleepless night of tossing and turning, of prayer and worry. By morning we were making phone calls—me to my mother, another to a dear friend and my husband to the local Red Cross to get his brothers and a sister-in-law home from their respective military bases, one as far away as Germany.

We packed and left Faribault. By then, before our arrival, Betty had already passed.

Those next days on the family farm were a blur of grief and of condolences, phone calls and visits, food and family hugs. The wake and funeral and burial. I remember seeing my husband cry, for the first and only time. Ever.

Today, two decades later, I am thinking of my mother-in-law, of the woman who never saw the grandson I birthed in early February 1994. She would have loved my son, knitted him a baby blanket or a blue sweater or something equally adorable like she had for Caleb’s sisters. It saddens me to think that Betty never saw the grandson she so badly wanted to carry on the Helbling family name. It saddens me that my now 19-year-old never knew his paternal grandmother.

But I still have the memories, one occurring only weeks before her death, when we all gathered on the farm to celebrate the 40th wedding anniversary of my in-laws. I arose in the middle of the night to pee, descending the stairs to the first floor bathroom in the dark of a country night. I’d just settled onto the toilet when movement, that of a mouse, caught my eye. I hate mice, just hate them. And there I was, pregnant and stuck in a small bathroom with a mouse circling my feet. I could see no way out.

I calmed myself down between shrieks of fear, which I tried to hold in, not wanting to awaken the entire household. But apparently I was loud enough to rouse my mother-in-law. She simply thought I was in the bathroom with a sick child and did not investigate.

Eventually, after climbing onto the bathtub, I grabbed a pile of wet bath towels from the floor, tossed them onto the menacing mouse and fled up the stairs to my still sleeping husband.

That is the last memory I associate with my mother-in-law.

Tom and Betty. This may be from their 40th anniversary party, although I am not sure.

But there are other memories—that of a competitive Scrabble player who could beat me, the master of words. I loved the challenge of playing Scrabble with Betty, even if she usually won.

Cooking wasn’t her strength, but she made the best darned chicken and caramel rolls.

Once my husband, brother-in-law Neil and I rummaged through Betty’s cupboards while she was gone, seeking to spice up her bland hotdish baking in the oven. When a sister-in-law later praised the tastiness of the dish, we three could barely contain our laughter as Betty attributed the flavor to a dash of Mrs. Dash seasoning.

Four generations: Great Grandma Katherine Simon holding my daughter, Amber, with my mother-in-law behind them beside my husband, Randy. Photo taken in July 1986 at a family picnic, Pierz, Minnesota.

Four generations: Great Grandma Katherine Simon holding my daughter, Amber, with my mother-in-law, Betty, behind them beside my husband, Randy. Photo taken in July 1986 at a family picnic in Pierz, Minnesota.

I knew my mother-in-law for only 11 years. Not very long really. But long enough to know that she was a woman of deep faith who loved God and family. Above all.

On Thursday, October 16, 2013, twenty years after her death, Betty was joined in heaven by her brother, Steve.

Blessed be the memories of those we loved and those who loved us, sometimes even before we were born.

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Honoring my husband as he marks 30 years with the same employer October 12, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: automotive machinist, employment, employment anniversary, family, job, life, Minnesota, NAPA, Parts Dept. Inc. Northfield, Randy Helbling, work

5:48 a.m.

The numbers on the clock radio glow red in the early dark of an October morning as he leans across the pillow to kiss my cheek, his beard brushing my skin.

Only minutes earlier, I awakened to the angular slant of light from the bathroom cutting across the carpet outside our bedroom, the rush of water from the faucet, the jingle of coins scooped from the dresser top into his work uniform pocket.

In minutes, after he’s laced his grimy Red Wing work shoes, I will hear the door shut, imagine him pulling the rag rug into place that protects the 1995 Chrysler upholstery from grease, picture him heading out of Faribault for the 22-minute commute to work.

For 30 years he’s followed this routine, although not always leaving the house before 6 a.m. But he is busy, crazy busy, in the NAPA automotive machine shop. This is nothing new; it’s been this way for three decades.

My husband at work in the automotive machine shop where he is employed.

My husband at work in the NAPA automotive machine shop where he has worked for 30 years. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

He, my husband Randy, possesses a strong work ethic that drives him to work well before the appointed 8 a.m. start and to leave well after the appointed 5 p.m. end of his work day and to labor most Saturdays. When he takes a rare week day off—from only 10 annual vacation days—he is stressed even more trying to meet customer demands.

Every time he takes a vacation day, and those are seldom and never more than five at a time unless combined with a holiday, he must labor doubly hard. Long days before he leaves. Long days afterward. Often it hardly seems worth the time away.

Just one example of all the work that awaits my husband in the NAPA automotive machine shop. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

But Randy sometimes needs a break from pressing customers and the pile of work that never diminishes. His skills—the turning of brake rotors, the resurfacing of heads, the grinding of valves and flywheels and a multitude of other automotive machining tasks I don’t understand—is in high demand. Few do what he does and he’s good at it. Probably the best in southeastern Minnesota as evidenced by his wide regional customer base and the endless work load.

Everyone wants their car, their truck, their SUV, their van, their tractor, their combine, their snowblower, their lawnmower, their recreational vehicles, their whatever, repaired first.

In 2008, Randy was recognized by his employer for 25 years of service to Parts Department, Inc., Northfield. Randy received a plaque, dinner out and a drill.

In 2008, Randy was recognized by his employer for 25 years of service to Parts Department, Inc., Northfield. Randy received a plaque, dinner out and an air wrench. Photo by Dan Christopherson.

Did you catch that early on noted time frame of 30 years?

Randy grinds a flywheel. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

October marks 30 years since Randy started working as the automotive machinist for Parts Department, Inc. (NAPA), Northfield.

My husband’s NAPA automotive machine shop toolbox. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Thirty years at one business. Remarkable, isn’t it?

Even more remarkable, Randy’s labored in the automotive field for just shy of 40 years. Only two years out of high school and with two years of trade school education, he packed his car in the spring of 1976 for Plentywood, Montana. He lasted there as a parts man for a month, returning from the middle of nowhere to settle in southeastern Minnesota.

My husband at work with a hammer, a tool he uses often as an automotive machinist.

Randy at work. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Randy was employed as a parts man in Rochester, eventually relocating to K & G Auto Parts in Faribault. There he worked as a parts man before moving into the machine shop and learning that skilled trade. He also worked in an Owatonna machine shop until the previous owner of the Northfield NAPA enticed Randy to join his business.

He genuinely loves his job, working solo in the machine shop, although Randy says he always dreamed of being a rural mail carrier. Had he chosen that career path, he would be retired by now, collecting a pension. Taking vacations. Sleeping in. Saturdays off.

Instead, dirt and grease outline his fingernails. Faded white scars mar his skin. Flecks of errant metal, from work projects, lie beneath the surface of his skin. Sometimes, too often, his back aches. He rises early. Works long days. Sometimes falls asleep in the recliner as the evening fades. Takes well-deserved Sunday afternoon naps.

He’s worked hard to provide a steady income for our family, allowing me to stay home and raise our three children and work part-time from home and continue to pursue my passions in writing and photography. We are not wealthy in monetary terms. But the mortgage is paid on our modest house, food is always on the table, clothing on our backs, bills covered.

And it is because of my farm-raised, blue collar hardworking husband.

Please join me in congratulating Randy on his 30-year anniversary as the automotive machinist at Parts Department, Inc., Northfield. And also wish him a happy birthday, for today, October 12, is his birthday.

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Personalizing a wedding: It’s in the details October 9, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: Andrea's Vintage Bridal, Bachrach Building, crafts, daughter, details, family, Faribault, life, MermaidBridal, Minnesota, personalizing a wedding, Rochelle Louise Photography, vintage, Waseca Floral, wedding, wedding ideas, wedding planning

I PROMISED YOU no more photos from my daughter’s wedding.

But now I must break that promise because of Stacey, who lives in southern Minnesota and blogs at down to earth digs. (Check out Stacey’s incredible earthy and artsy homespun single-photo posts by clicking here.)

Anyway, when Stacey wrote the following comment on one of my wedding posts, I just knew I had to show you some of the details that shaped Amber and Marc’s September 22 wedding.

I think this is the most lovely, simply elegant wedding…so sweetly simple with amazing little details that were just perfect…the dress—so special, so beautiful…so perfectly worn by a beautiful bride.

Love the suits—not rented tuxedos….Love the setting of that historic building. The adorable card suitcase…the chalkboard…just wonderful!

The flowers—amazing! Ahhh, dusty miller in the bouquets…so pretty!

Yes, Stacey, an avid gardener and appreciator of all things simple and beautiful, understands the importance of details in comprising the whole, in shaping a setting and mood.

That said, let’s look back at wedding prep and the personal choices that, together, created, as Stacey says, a simply lovely, sweet and elegant wedding.

The bride’s decision to shop for her dress at a vintage bridal shop in Minneapolis set the tone for the entire wedding. The bridal shop is housed in a former garage. Amber’s dad, my husband, is an automotive machinist. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Once the dress, a second-hand vintage replica gown, was chosen, Nikolina helped Amber envision the dress redone to suit Amber. She suggested adding a sash, which was the perfect addition to emphasize Amber's tiny waist and update the dress.

Once the dress, a second-hand vintage replica gown, was chosen, Nikolina (who runs Andrea’s Vintage Bridal with her mom, Andrea) helped Amber envision the dress redone. Nikolina suggested updating the dress with a satin sash, the perfect addition to emphasize Amber’s slim frame and tiny waist. The gown had to be taken in some, too.

Nikolina checked out the hem-line, which did not need to be adjusted, saving Amber lots of dollars in alterations. Hemming, we were told, is typically the most costly alteration. The beaded details and the flow of this body-hugging dress made it simply elegant.

Nikolina checks the hem-line, which did not need to be adjusted, saving Amber lots of dollars in alterations. Hemming, we were told, is typically the most costly alteration. The beaded details and the flow of this body-hugging dress create an elegant look.

When Amber initially chose plain navy blue pumps to wear with her wedding gown, I had to zip my lips, sort of. They were her "something blue," but I thought the wrong choice. I said something like "just make sure they don't show in photos." Eventually she changed her mind and chose these lovely bow-detailed and classy shoes. She had her toenails painted blue for the "something blue."

When Amber initially chose navy blue pumps to wear with her wedding gown, I had to zip my lips, sort of. They were her “something blue,” but I thought the wrong choice. I said, “Just make sure they don’t show in photos.” Eventually she changed her mind and purchased these lovely bow-detailed and classy heels. She had her toenails painted blue for the “something blue.”

Amber and Marc wanted to honor their parents and grandparents at their wedding reception and did so with wedding day portraits, like this of my parents, Elvern and Arlene, married on September 25, 1954.

Amber and Marc wanted to honor their parents and grandparents at their wedding reception and did so with wedding day portraits, including this of my parents, Elvern and Arlene, married on September 25, 1954.

Choosing flowers is no easy task. Amber and Marc researched online and in books looking for the right mix of colors and textures and design to shape the vision they wanted for their wedding. Tie selection is also important, finding just the right colors.

Ideas for bridesmaids’ bouquets. Notice the details, too, in the bridesmaid dress with the shirring at the waist and the tie. The dresses were custom made by Hong Kong based Mermaid Bridal.

Armed with information Amber had emailed, my floral designer sister, Lanae of Waseca Floral, arrived at our home with fresh flowers and ideas for the couple to consider. Check my blog posts for the stunning results.

The bridal couple and the father-of-the-bride worked on table numbers for the vintage blue canning jars that would grace tables at the reception. The choice of these jars followed the vintage theme and the color scheme for the wedding.

The bridal couple and the father-of-the-bride tie pink paper hearts on vintage blue canning jars for bridesmaids’ bouquets. The choice of these jars for bouquets and floral centerpieces followed the vintage theme and the muted blue/pink/green/grey color scheme for the wedding.

The historic Bachrach Building in downtown Faribault was the perfect venue for the wedding couple’s vision of their reception. However, about a month before the wedding, I noticed that the flowers in the outside urns were mostly dead or dying. When I mentioned this to the bride-to-be, she admonished me to drop the idea of replacing the flowers because she did not want to spend more time and money. I quietly overrode her decision, which I would not typically advise. But, because first impressions count, I contacted my floral designer sister. Together we hatched a no-cost easy plan to beautify the urns. I clipped nearly 40 hydrangea from my yard. Lanae brought ornamental kale, curly willow and greens from hers. She transformed the urns into stunning floral masterpieces as shown here. The bits of purple peeking out are the petunias which had been planted in the urns.

The couple arrives at the reception venue in the Bachrach Building in historic downtown Faribault. The social hour was held in the first floor Atrium and the reception in the second floor The Loft. The exterior floral pieces were created by my floral designer sister, Lanae Feser of Waseca Floral. Photo by and courtesy of Rochelle Louise Photography of Minneapolis.

The couple wanted a sign out front to direct guests into the reception venue. The folks at The Cheese Cave, which is housed inside the Bachrach complex, kindly lent their sandwich chalkboard to us for the reception. Amber told me to write “Schmidt wedding” on the board. I added the hearts and the “A + M” detail inside the bottom heart, using two of the wedding colors, pink and green. Details, remember. Photo by and courtesy of Rochelle Louise Photography of Minneapolis.

Mini chalkboards were used elsewhere throughout the reception venue, here to label the cheeses purchased at The Cheese Cave. The bride and groom wanted to showcase fine locally-made and/or aged cheeses.

Mini chalkboards were used elsewhere throughout the reception venue, here to label cheese purchased at The Cheese Cave. The bride and groom wanted to showcase fine locally-made and/or cave-aged cheeses. This photo does not show the actual set-up at the reception, but rather a shot I propped at home.

A "sweetheart table" just for the bride and groom. It's covered in one of the vintage tablecloths from my collection. The table was purchased for $15 months ago at a Montgomery, Minnesota, used furniture store. At the time of purchase, my husband asked why I was buying it. "Because I like it," I told him then. Little did we know our daughter would use if for her wedding.

Great care went in to selecting the vintage tablecloth for the bride and groom’s sweetheart table. I collect vintage tablecloths and pulled out those that matched the wedding color scheme of muted blue, pink, green and grey. The bride selected this one from among several. The wine glasses came from the groom’s paternal grandparents and are engraved with the Schmidt family name.

Card gift boxes, in my opinion, are not exactly original. So the bride and I came up with an idea that was simple and vintage and personal. Here Amber attaches CARDS letters to jute with clothespins from my clothespin bag.

Card gift boxes, in my opinion, are not exactly original and rather boring. So the bride and I came up with an idea that was simple and vintage and personal. Here Amber attaches CARDS letters she made, to jute with clothespins from my clothespin bag.

And then the jute string of letters was hot glue gunned inside the bride’s dad’s vintage 1970s suitcase, a suitcase used by the bride, too, when she was growing up. Not only was this vintage chic, but many memories are attached to this converted suitcase.

First the bride considered using old picture frames to hold guests' seating place cards. But then I remembered two old barn window frames stashed in our garage. One came from the Helbling family farm, where my husband grew up, and the other from my childhood farm. Perfect.

First Amber considered using old picture frames to hold guests’ seating place cards. But then I remembered two old barn window frames stashed in our garage for nearly 20 years. The one on the right came from the Helbling family farm, where my husband grew up, and the other from the Kletscher family farm, my childhood farm. Perfect. Meaningful and unique.

Name cards that the bride and groom created were attached to the old barn windows via jute and clothespins.

Name cards that the bride and groom created were attached to the old barn windows with jute and clothespins.

And all the "stuff" that went into creating the envisioned wedding and reception, mostly crammed right there into the back of the bride's parents' van.

All the “stuff” that went into creating the envisioned wedding and reception was mostly crammed into the back of the bride’s parents’ van. There are linens and vintage canning jars and window frames and tables and more inside the morning after the wedding. Hauling everything to the reception venue, because it had to be carefully packed, took three or four trips.

FYI: To see the end results of the above detailed planning, check my Minnesota Prairie Roots archives from September 23 – October 2. Or click here to view professional wedding photos at Rochelle Louise Photography.

To see the offerings from MermaidBridal, click here.

Comments (28)

A Minnesota family tradition: Honoring Dad by making horseradish October 7, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: family, food, horseradish, life, making horseradish, memories, Minnesota, traditions

Horseradish planted last year in my brother's garden and ready to harvest in a few years. This year's horseradish came from a patch near Sanborn.

Horseradish planted last year in my brother and sister-in-law’s garden and ready to harvest in a few years. This year’s horseradish came from a patch near Sanborn.

FOR MY EXTENDED FAMILY, making horseradish marks a time-honored tradition started by my father and my Uncle Mike decades ago.

Dad died 10 years ago, Uncle Mike before him, and, for awhile, so did the annual ritual of making horseradish. In his last years, Dad made horseradish with my sister Lanae and her husband, Dale.

Washing mud and dirt from the horseradish roots with the garden hose is the first step after digging.

Then, in recent years, Lanae and my brother Brian restarted this family tradition. The past two autumns, my husband and I have traveled the 120 miles to Brian’s rural Lamberton home to peel and slice, process and bottle horseradish. Mostly, I’ve documented the process with my camera although I’ve also assisted (some) with the actual making of this condiment.

To be honest, the horseradish isn’t the reason I’m there. It’s the cherished time with my mom (also known as “The Supervisor”) and extended family that draws me back to my native southwestern Minnesota prairie. We are building memories and honoring the memory of my farmer father.

Dad would delight in our gathering—in hearing the laughter and bullshit (sorry, I can’t think of a better word choice) and seeing us together. Dad was all about family.

Like our father before us, we give away our horseradish. My husband and I gathered a baker’s dozen jars to take back to Faribault for Mick and Mooch, Howard and Neal, and Dan, Steve and John, and a few others who appreciate a good taste of potent, eye-stinging, nostril-clearing horseradish.

THE STEP-BY-STEP PROCESS:

After the initial washing of the roots, the stems are trimmed away and the horseradish goes into a laundry bag for washing in the washing machine.

After the initial washing of the roots with a garden hose, the stems are trimmed away and the horseradish goes into a laundry bag for washing in the washing machine. Do NOT add laundry detergent.

The crew (not all shown) prepares to peel the brown outer layer from the roots. Remove all of the brown so the end product is a creamy white.

Part of the crew, left to right around the tables, Julie (a friend of my brother and his wife, and a newcomer) and family members Adrienne, Adam, Andy, Lanae and Tara, prepare to peel the brown outer layer from the roots. All of the brown is removed so the finished horseradish is a creamy and unblemished white.

Once peeled, the horseradish is dumped back into a laundry bag for a second wash in the washing machine. Do NOT add detergent.

Once out of the washing machine, the process of chopping the horseradish begins.

Once out of the washer, the horseradish is chopped.

Lots of horseradish to cut in to small pieces.

Next, the horseradish pieces go into the food processor, operated here by my husband, Randy.

Brian, left, and Lanae blend the horseradish with vinegar in blenders while Randy uses the food processor.

Sometimes the powerful pungent fumes overpower the workers.

Adrienne buried her nose in her sleeve and stepped out of the garage a few times when she couldn't handle the overwhelming sting of the horseradish.

Adrienne buries her nose in her sleeve and stepped out of the garage a few times when she couldn’t handle the overwhelming sting of the horseradish.

Once blended to just the right consistency with the correct amount of vinegar, the horseradish is poured into jars.

Lots and lots of jars of all sizes will hold the horseradish.

“The Supervisor, ” aka my mom, Arlene, shows up to inspect.

After hours of labor, the beautiful results. Creamy white horseradish.

As the final step, The Supervisor steps in to count the jars. My sister-in-law, Vicki, watches my mom at work.

The Supervisor counts the jars., 70 total ranging in size from baby food jars to around 12-ounce size. My sister-in-law, Vicki, watches my mom at work. At one point, when my brother suggested an easier method of counting, The Supervisor told him to “shut up.” We all cracked up. We know who’s boss, and it isn’t Brian.

The last step is to take the peelings and horseradish tops to the garden for planting. We want to assure that we will have horseradish for years to come, holding on to traditon, building memories.

The last step is to take the peelings and horseradish tops to the garden for planting. We want to assure that we have horseradish for years to come, holding on to tradition, building memories and honoring our dad.

CLICK HERE TO READ last year’s post about making horseradish.

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In love: A photo essay October 2, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: family, life, love, marriage, newlyweds, photo essay, photos, thoughts, wedding

A sweet kiss at their wedding reception sweetheart table set just for them.

Moving closer for a kiss at their wedding reception sweetheart table.

THEY ARE SO INCREDIBLY in love, my daughter Amber and her husband, Marc, the new Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt, married on Sunday, September 22, 2013.

Pure love, joy and happiness during that first dance together as husband and wife.

You can see it in the way they look at one another,

First dance…

in the way they hold one another,

Love in a snapshot.

in the way they are when they are together.

The couple’s car, decorated and parked along Central Avenue in historic downtown Faribault, across the street from the reception venue, The Loft in the Bachrach Building.

Newlyweds beginning their journey together through life as one, loved by God and family and friends, loving one another with a depth that takes your breath away.

FYI: This concludes my series of wedding posts. Please check my archives if you missed the previous postings beginning last week and continuing in to this week. And if you missed professional photos of Amber and Marc’s wedding day by Rochelle Louise Photography, click here.

Comments (12)

Celebrating Amber & Marc’s marriage October 1, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: Arna Farmer Catering & Cakes, Bachrach Building, celebration, family, Faribault, historic buildings, life, Minnesota, photography, Rochelle Louise Photography, Taylor Made Tunes, The Loft, Waseca Floral, wedding photography, wedding reception, wedding reception venue

Eleven round tables, which will seat up to 10, filled the reception space. The groom's parents and grandparents and other family members were seated at the table in the foreground.

Eleven round tables, which will seat up to 10 each, filled the reception space. The groom’s parents and grandparents and other family members were seated at the table in the foreground.

WHEN THE BRIDE AND GROOM, my eldest daughter and her new husband, envisioned a reception venue, they pictured a warehouse type space.

The couple arrives at the reception venue in the Bachrach Building in historic downtown Faribault. The social hour was held in the first floor Atrium and the reception in the second floor The Loft. The exterior floral pieces were created by my floral designer sister, Lanae Feser of Waseca Floral. Photo by and courtesy of Rochelle Louise Photography of Minneapolis.

Marc specifically wanted exposed brick walls. Initially, I could not think of any place in Faribault fitting their vision. And then I remembered The Loft (probably Faribault’s best kept secret) in the historic Bachrach Building and invited the engaged couple to drive down from the metro to view the venue.

The couple looks at The Loft space with the bride’s dad earlier this year.

The minute they walked into the second floor Loft, I knew they had found the perfect place to celebrate their marriage.

Beautiful natural light filters in through west facing windows as the newlyweds settle in at their sweetheart table.

And celebrate we did in this room of exposed brick and limestone walls, a wooden floor upon which to dance and a bank of western windows flooding the room with natural light. Professional photographers Rochelle and Tom Muellenberg of Minneapolis based Rochelle Louise Photography raved about the beautiful lighting.

The bride’s sister and maid of honor, Miranda, speaks and toasts the couple.

As the sun set, we laughed and dined and talked and danced and raised our glasses thrice to toast the newlyweds.

BONUS RECEPTION PHOTOS:

One of my favorite photos, converted to black and white to avoid the distraction of color. I love the emotions caught in this image.

The groom walks past the bride’s parents’ table, left.

The bride was beautiful in her stunning vintage replica dress.

The bride was beautiful, from all sides, in her stunning vintage replica dress.

Just look at how the natural light plays on the brick walls as the Rev. Robert Snyder, retired pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church, leads the group in prayer.

Just look at how the natural light plays upon the brick walls and faces as the Rev. Robert Snyder, retired pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church, leads the group in prayer.

Faribault based Arna Farmer Catering catered the meal of chicken breast in white wine sauce, roasted sweet potatoes and a mixed vegetable medley. Dessert of apple crisp and bars was served later. There was no wedding cake.

Faribault based Arna Farmer Catering & Cakes catered the meal of chicken breast in white wine sauce, roasted sweet potatoes, a mixed vegetable medley and bread (which is not shown here because I seldom eat bread). Dessert of apple crisp and bars was served later. There was no wedding cake. The food was outstanding. I’d recommend Arna and crew for the food and service anytime. Excellent.

The father of the bride, my husband Randy, starts his speech. He asked me to help write the speech since I am, um, yes, a writer. It was a hit with a mix of memories, humor and seriousness. Our daughter and her husband watch from their corner sweetheart table.

My husband and I agreed that he should use several props to make his speech memorable. Here he pulls out Amber’s favorite childhood doll, Sal, whom she dragged everywhere. Randy introduced the groom to Sal before handing over Amber’s treasured doll. We also gave Amber a complete set of the Fox easy reader chapter books, including “Fox in Love,” by the Marshall brothers. They were among her favorites as a little girl. The DJ, per our request, also played a snippet of a Spice Girls song. That all-female band was one of Amber’s favorites as a teen. Randy concluded his speech by focusing on a parent’s love and welcoming Marc to our family.

The obliging DJ, Taylor from Taylor Made Tunes.

The obliging DJ, Taylor from metro based Taylor Made Tunes.

The Kletscher cousins (my side of the family) and significant others minus my daughter (who was out decorating the wedding car) and my niece Hillary, who'd already left.

The Kletscher cousins (my side of the family) and spouses/significant others minus my daughter (who was out decorating the wedding car) and minus my niece Hillary, who’d already left. That’s my son, Caleb, third from the left in the white shirt in the back row. He was an usher.

Meet the Schmidts: Jon Eric, the groom’s brother and best man, left; the bride, Amber; the groom, Marc; and Jon Eric’s wife, Stephani. Photo courtesy of Jon Eric Schmidt. Jon Eric and Stephani were married earlier this year in their native California.

The single ladies celebrate after one of them catches the bouquet. Much to my relief, there was no garter toss.

The celebration ended shortly after the couple left at 9:30 p.m. That’s Sal peeking out of the cloth bag carried by the bride.

FYI: Click here to see photos of the reception set-up in the second floor Loft and the first floor Atrium, where the social hour was held.

You will find more information about Arna Farmer Catering & Cakes by clicking here.

For info about Rochelle Louise Photography, click here. And to view Rochelle’s blog post about Amber and Marc’s wedding, click here.

To learn more about Waseca Floral, click here.

To view earlier wedding posts, check Minnesota Prairie Roots archives from the past week.

Photo by Rochelle Louise Photography is copyrighted and used here with permission.

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Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Sisters share their gratitude & thoughts two weeks after a fatal fire December 18, 2013

Join the “Thanksgiving The Real Deal” movement November 21, 2013

A mother’s reflections on her daughter’s birthday November 16, 2013

I’m not anti pumpkin, but… October 30, 2013

Remembering my mother-in-law, Betty October 18, 2013

Honoring my husband as he marks 30 years with the same employer October 12, 2013

Personalizing a wedding: It’s in the details October 9, 2013

A Minnesota family tradition: Honoring Dad by making horseradish October 7, 2013

In love: A photo essay October 2, 2013

Celebrating Amber & Marc’s marriage October 1, 2013

Follow Minnesota Prairie Roots via Email

An essay of barn photos & memories; In praise of preserving country churches; & Testing the track during a Soap Box Derby trial run in Faribault

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