A sign marks the Fairy Garden at the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
DECIDEDLY MAGICAL. Those words describe my reaction to fairy gardens, mini scenes created with small scale fairies, gnomes, animals and more in an unexpected spot within a flower garden.
A ground level view of gnomes’ rocky woodland home in the gardens of Susan and Dale Kulsrud, featured in a 2014 garden tour. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2014)
I saw my first fairy gardens during the Northfield Garden Club 2014 Garden Tour and have loved them ever since.
A unicorn-hugging fairy in the Faribault garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
Maybe it’s the kid in me or perhaps the creative in me that appreciates these delightful scenes that transport me from reality into a storybook world. We all need to escape the chaos of life occasionally, even if but for a few minutes. Fairy gardens do just that for me.
Love depicted in a bridal couple in the master gardeners’ garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
It’s OK to embrace the child within us, to imagine living in an enchanting place where goodness and kindness and love prevail and everyone gets along. I believe those truths when I spot a fairy garden in the tranquility of a flower garden.
An overview of a section of the master gardeners’ garden in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
A variety of birds can be seen at the Faribault garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
Water bubbles from a stump water feature inside the pond. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
Recently I discovered a new fairy garden at the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens located on the Rice County Fairgrounds in Faribault. This garden had already been a favorite spot to visit, to walk among the flowers and other plants, to observe butterflies and birds, and to watch water spilling from a water feature inside a pond.
Reflecting the cultural diversity of Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
A volunteer working there on the day I stopped mentioned that the fairy garden is especially popular with kids, who often move the figurines. I love that—envisioning children playing with the mini people and animals, rearranging the scene, stories spinning through their heads. Imaginative play is something we should all engage in, even as adults. We’re never too old, or too young, for that.
Stones imitate water in this bucolic scene. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
Unlike real life, fairy tales always have happy endings. The prince finds Cinderella. Little Red Riding Hood defeats the Big Bad Wolf. Jack climbs the beanstalk, outsmarts the giant, escapes, and saves the day to live happily ever after. Ah, if only happily ever after was always the ending.
A bunny welcomed in the Faribault garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
Fairy gardens offer a respite, happiness, if we we choose to pause, bend low, see them. If we choose to believe in their magic.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
I FOLDED THE PILE of pea pods into the front of my Minnesota-themed tee, the one with two grain bin graphics. It seemed appropriate for the vegetable gathered from the Friends of Buckham Memorial Library Organic Learning Garden. Harvest of grain. Harvest of vegetables.
In the library window by the garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2020)
I hadn’t expected to pick peas when Randy and I stopped at our local library Saturday afternoon en route to the grocery store for meat to grill. But when we pulled into the parking lot, I decided to check out the garden while Randy looked for videos.
To my surprise, I found pea plants heavy with plump pea pods. I felt giddy. Garden fresh peas have always been a favorite. But it’s been a long time since I’ve had them.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
I hold fond memories of picking and shelling peas from my childhood garden. I loved running my thumb down the seam of the pod, opening the shell to reveal a row of tiny green orbs. So perfect. And then I slid my thumb down that tidy row, peas dropping one by one into a metal pan. Plunk, plunk, plunk, plunk, plunk. There’s a certain satisfaction in the rhythmic process of shelling peas.
Once home, as I shelled those peas carried in my t-shirt to the van, I thought of all those summers back on the farm. I never realized then how lucky I was to eat mostly food grown or raised on our acreage. It was simply what everyone did in rural Minnesota. Planted a garden. Raised beef cattle, pigs and/or chickens.
That evening as we sat down to a grilled pork chop supper (not dinner) with sides of potatoes and peas, I dipped my spoon into those fresh peas covered with butter. I tasted the sun and sky and earth. But mostly, I tasted memories. Garden memories.
Seeds for sale at Seed Savers Exchange, Decorah, Iowa. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2018)
SEVERAL DAYS AGO, my 4-year-old grandson excitedly shared that his broccoli was growing. His mom, my eldest, clarified. Sixteen broccoli seeds and one carrot seed had sprouted, popping through potting soil in three days. That surprised even me, who grew up in a gardening family with most of our food from farm to table, long before that became a thing.
Annuals that are easy to grow from seed. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
A year ago, I gifted my grandchildren with several packets of seeds. Flowers only. Zinnias and bachelor buttons, easy-to-grow-from-seed annuals that blossom throughout the summer. Isaac and his mom planted the seeds in flower pots. And then watched seeds emerge into tender plants that grew and bloomed in a jolt of color.
Old-fashioned zinnias grown by my friend Al and sold at the Faribault Farmers’ Market. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2019)
That was enough for the preschooler to get the gardening bug. This year, in selecting seeds for Isaac and his older sister, I added vegetables to the mix of flowers. Spinach because I knew it would grow quickly and flourish in Minnesota’s still cool weather. And carrots, because Isaac wanted to plant them. Later, he told his mom he also wanted to plant broccoli because he likes broccoli. I’m not sure that’s true. But Amber bought broccoli seeds for her son, whom she’s dubbed Farmer Isaac.
“Summer in a Jar,” sold at the Faribault Farmers’ Market. This photo published in the book “The World of Laura Ingalls Wilder, The Frontier Landscapes that Inspired The Little House Books” by Marta McDowell. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2015)
I can’t think of a better way to encourage kids to try vegetables. And to teach them about plants and that veggies don’t just come from the grocery store. With most families now a generation or two or three removed from the land, it’s more important than ever to initiate or maintain a connection rooted in the soil.
Several types of tomatoes grow in the garden outside Buckham Memorial Library, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Soil was the gardening starting point for my grandchildren. Once when they stayed overnight, I got out the gardening shovels and directed them toward a corner flowerbed and a patch of dirt. The dirt flew as they dug and uncovered earthworms and half a walnut shell and bugs. I didn’t care if their hands got dirty. I simply wanted them to have fun, to feel the cold, damp earth, to appreciate the soil beneath and between their fingers.
My great niece waters plants inside her family’s mini greenhouse. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2018)
I was a bit surprised when my eldest embraced gardening with her kids. But then again, she was the daughter who always watered flowers and observed that “the flowers are opening their mouths” (translation, “the tulips are blooming”) as a preschooler. I never had much of a garden due to lack of a sunny spot in my yard. But I usually grew tomatoes in pots and always had pots overflowing with flowers and flowers in beds. So Isaac and Isabelle’s mom did have a sort of gardening background.
Heirloom tomato at the Faribault Farmers’ Market. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2019)
As a farmer’s daughter and a grandma, passing along something like gardening is like passing along part of my rural heritage. My Grandma Ida always had a big garden, an essential with a family of 10 kids. She continued to garden throughout her life, long after her kids were gone and she moved to town. Likewise, my mom planted a massive garden to feed her six kids. My siblings and I helped with the gardening—pulling weeds, picking vegetables… And shelling peas. Of all the garden-related tasks, the rhythmic act of running my thumb along an open pod to pop pearls of peas into a pan proved particularly satisfying. Plus, I loved the taste of fresh peas from the garden. There’s nothing like it except perhaps the juicy goodness of a sun-ripened tomato or leaf lettuce or a just-pulled carrot with dirt clinging to the root.
My friend Al vends flowers and vegetables at the Faribault Farmers’ Market. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2019)
I don’t expect my grandchildren will garden like their great great grandma or great grandma. But that’s OK. They’ve been introduced to gardening. They see now how seeds sprout and develop into plants that yield beauty or food. Hopefully they will gain an appreciation for garden-fresh, whether fresh from the pots on their patio or deck, or from a farmers’ market.
Purple beans grow in the library garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Even though they live in a south metro suburb, my grandkids remain close to the land with farm fields within view, not yet replaced by massive housing developments. It’s important to me that Isabelle and Isaac always feel connected to their rural heritage, that they value the land, that they grow up to remember the feel of cold, damp dirt on their hands. That they understand their food is not sourced from grocery stores, but rather from the earth.
A coneflower up close in the Rice Country Master Gardeners Teaching Garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
ANYONE WHO GARDENS understands just how quickly plants can grow. Sunshine and rain make all the difference.
Vegetables grow in the foreground in this photo, other plants and flowers beyond. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
A month had passed between visits to the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Garden located at the Rice County Fairgrounds in Faribault. And in those few weeks, the vegetables, flowers and other plants grew in length, height and width, some blossoming, some with fruit emerging.
A mini sunflower of sorts (I think) bursts color into the garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
There are signs aplenty in this teaching garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
An eggplant blossom. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
To walk here again among the prairie flowers, the zinnias, the hydrangea and hosta, the burpless cucumbers, eggplants, tomatoes and much more is to feel a deep connection to the earth. For it is the soil which roots, which feeds these plants watered by the sky, energized by the sun.
Gardening equipment stashed in a secure area next to the conservation building by the garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
And it is volunteer gardeners who plant and tend this beautiful garden for the enjoyment of many. Like me. I appreciate their time, their efforts, their desire to create this peaceful place in my community.
This broad-leafed plant name fascinates me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
Aiming the camera down at Silver Mound, a wispy plant that I’ve never seen before. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
A cucumber forming. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
To visit this spot is to understand how much we each need such a contemplative place. A place simply to meander along wood chip or brick pathways, pausing to appreciate the likes of broad-leafed Pig Squeak or the silvery sheen of Silver Mound or a little-finger-sized prickly cucumber or a Prickly Pear Cactus. There’s a lot to take in among the vast plant varieties.
One of the man-made tree stumps gurgles water. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
The water feature is to the right of this centering circle. Across the way are an historic church and school, part of the Rice County Historical Society. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
And then there’s the water, oh, the water. No garden feature soothes more than a fountain. Here five replica tree stumps spill water into a shallow pond, a focal point defined by a circle of bricks connected to brick paths.
I notice details, like a feather in a bird bath. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
Even a bird bath drew my attention with a feather floating therein.
A lily blooms in early August. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
The garden also features an arch for climbing clematis,which bloomed profusely earlier in the summer. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
A bee house posted on a tree by the garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
Strategically situated benches offer sitting spots to pass the time, chat, read a book or simply take in the garden, the being outdoors, in nature. In this fast-paced world of technology and a deluge of news that is often awful and horrible and unsettling, this garden provides a respite. Nature has a way of working calm into our beings. Easing stress and anxiety. Lifting spirits.
Lovely flowers fill the garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2022)
In the challenges which have defined my life in 2022, I feel a deep sense of gratitude for this garden. I feel at peace here among the flowers and vegetables, the birds and butterflies, bushes and trees, here under the southern Minnesota sky.
In early July, lilies bloomed in the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
IN MY FARIBAULT BACKYARD, wild tiger lilies stretch above a tangled mess of greenery, popping orange into the hillside. On the other side of town, domesticated orange lilies grace the neatly-cultivated Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens at the Rice County Fairgrounds.
The master gardeners’ milkweed patch. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Also in my yard are scattered milkweeds, food for Monarch caterpillars. In the gardens tended by the experts, a mass of intentionally-planted milkweeds flourishes.
Clematis. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Blocks away from my home, Donahue’s Greenhouse grows one of the largest selections of clematis in the U.S. That’s their specialty. Across town at the master gardeners’ garden, clematis climb an arbor, lovely blooms opening to the summer sky.
The Berry-Go-Round. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Within a short distance of my home is the birthplace of the Tilt-A-Whirl, a carnival ride no longer made in Faribault but in Texas. On the edge of the master gardeners’ garden, a giant strawberry sits. It’s a Berry-Go-Round, a spin ride produced by Sellner Manufacturing beginning in 1987, before the company was sold.
Prickly pear cactus. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
More than 150 miles to the southwest of Faribault near the South Dakota border, prickly pear cactus thrive in the rocky lands of the prairie. I’ve seen them at Blue Mounds State Park near Luverne. And now I’ve seen them in the gardens at the local fairgrounds.
An overview of the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens, photographed in early July, with an historic school and church (part of the county historical society) in the background. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
It’s interesting how, in life, so many connections exist. Even in a garden.
One of several benches in the master gardeners’ garden in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Gardens connect us to people, places, memories. A life that touches others goes on forever. I come from a family of gardeners tracing back generations. Vegetables grown in my mother’s massive garden fed me, and my family of origin, for the first 18 years of my life. I worked that garden with her, planting, weeding, tending, harvesting. I left gardening when I left southwestern Minnesota. But I still appreciate gardeners and gardens.
An artsy scene of clematis on arbor. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
I value the beauty of flower gardens, the purpose of vegetable gardens to feed. And I appreciate, too, the peace a garden brings. To sit among the blooms and plants in a garden oasis like the Rice County master gardeners created is to feel a calm, a sense of serenity in the midst of chaos and struggles and challenges.
The water feature is shaped like tree stumps. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Water, especially, soothes me. The Rice County master gardeners understand that and added a water feature to their garden plot. I delighted in watching a tiny yellow bird (I think a goldfinch) splash in the water. Such a simple joy.
One of many educational signs in the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
And isn’t that part of a garden’s purpose—to bring joy? Joy to those who work the soil, seed or plant, tend and care for that which grows. Joy to those who delight in the all of it.
A sedum patch planted by the master gardeners. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
I feel such gratitude for gardeners, for the nurturing hands that link me to nature. It’s all about connecting to each other in this world we share, in the commonality of humanity.
Next to the conservation building, with an historic church and school in the background, the Teaching Gardens grace the Rice County Fairgrounds.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
AT THE RICE COUNTY FAIRGROUNDS in Faribault, an unexpected oasis brings nature into a setting of buildings, grandstand and roadways. It’s a welcome respite, this Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens.
I love the “tree stump” water feature that blends so naturally into the garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
On a Sunday in early July, Randy and I packed a picnic lunch and set out for the fairgrounds garden, a place we haven’t previously lunched. There we settled onto a fountain-side shaded bench, the soothing rush of water creating a peaceful ambiance.
Clematis. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Sedum. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Lilies. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Afterwards, I ambled through these gardens, admiring the plants and blooming flowers. Clematis climbing an arbor. Sedum. Hosta. Lilies and roses and Pig Squeak. Masses of milkweed for monarch caterpillars. Eggplant, prickly pear cactus, Mugo pine and much more.
An overview of the gardens with vegetables in the foreground. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
If you’re into gardening, and even if you’re not, this compact garden patch showcases a wide variety of plants that are beautiful to behold. Some are grown as seed trial plants for the University of Minnesota.
The Seed Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Seed packets inside the library.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
There’s a seed library, too, with packets of seeds tucked into a tiny red house similar to a Little Free Library.
Informational signage in the gardens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Strategically-placed signs identify plants and provide information about gardening in general. This is, after all, a teaching garden.
The milkweed patch with the Rice County Historical Society in the background. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Roses. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
I believe these are onions gone to seed. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
But for me, these gardens proved primarily a spot to retreat for a bit, to immerse myself in a place that feels restful, soothing, calming. Connecting to nature, whether in a natural or cultivated setting always, always renews my spirit.
TELL ME: Have you found a similar oasis mini garden where you live?
Please check back for more photos from this lovely teaching garden in additional posts.
A mass of potted plants splash color and beauty into a corner lot in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
OH, HOW LOVELY this flush of flowers folding around a corner house in northwest Faribault. The scene proves eye-pleasing in color, composition and height.
I wouldn’t say that about every massive quantity of potted plants. I’ve seen enough scattered-across-the-yard pots to recognize when I see a well-done grouping. This one I like. A lot.
Pots of varied heights and sizes and positioned at various heights create a pleasing visual composition. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
The narrow color palette of purples and pinks mixed with some yellow is simply beautiful. Sweet potato vine and other spillers among the primarily petunias and million bells create a unified look. I also spot backdrop orange lilies and purple clematis in the mix.
Oh, how lovely this potted flower garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
This gardener clearly worked hard to create this floral painting. Choosing all these plants, then potting and arranging them takes time, effort and an artistic eye. And money. Plants are costly as are pots and soil.
I deeply appreciate those who beautify my community via the flowers they plant, grow and tend. In recent years, I’ve cut back on gardening. No longer do pots of flowers grace my front steps, the patio or the driveway next to the garage. But old-fashioned hydrangea still spill around the corner of my house. Ferns wave. The occasional milkweeds, phlox and assorted whatever mix in unruly flower beds that my Grandma Ida would have appreciated. Her flowerbeds were, like mine, a bit of a lovely mess.
Old-fashioned zinnias grown by my friend Al, who sells them at the Faribault Farmers’ Market. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2019)
I miss the zinnias I once grew, the zinnias which filled my mother’s garden and then vases inside the southwestern Minnesota farmhouse of my youth. This spring my 3-year-old grandson planted zinnia seeds I gave to his mom, my eldest, on her February birthday. He was so incredibly excited when the seeds sprouted and even more so when the plants grew and blossomed. His mom praised him. “You have a green thumb, Isaac.”
He looked at his thumb and replied, “No, I don’t.” Sometimes we forget how children take everything literally.
Such joy flowers bring. Memories. Inspiring a new generation to perhaps plant flower seeds that will grow into a lovely mess of a garden or contained in a pot.
Lilies rise behind the potted petunias and other plants. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
This summer I celebrate the northwest Faribault gardener who brings beauty into his/her yard near the back employee parking lot of the Faribault Mill with this massive potting of flowers. This shows pride in community, pride in neighborhood and creativity.
TELL ME: Have you spotted a similar potted flower garden in your community? Do you grow flowers, either in beds or pots?
The vegetable garden outside Buckham Memorial Library, Faribault, Minnesota.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2020)
AT THE END of the growing season a few weeks back, I walked into Buckham Memorial Library and spotted a stash of green tomatoes free for the taking. To say that I reacted with joy might be an understatement.
I felt practically giddy at the thought of preparing green fries, a coveted food I haven’t eaten in years because…I don’t have a garden.
A green tomato in the library garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2020)
But, back in the day, my mom planted a sprawling garden, growing vegetables to feed our farm family of eight. Green fries were a summer-time to harvest staple as were the tomatoes left to ripen on the vine.
Items grown in the library garden are free for the taking to the community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2020)
Earlier this summer and fall, when I stopped at The Friends Organic Learning Garden on the library’s east side to look for produce, I noticed choice green tomatoes. I was tempted to pick a few. Who would miss the green orbs? But my conscience prevailed and I walked away empty-handed.
Perfect for making green fries. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
So when those green tomatoes appeared inside the library, I quickly took four, reining in my greedy impulse to grab more.
Step one: Slice the tomatoes. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
The next day, I sliced two of those beautiful green tomatoes, dipped both sides in all-purpose white flour and laid the slices into a hefty cast iron skillet sizzling with butter. Lots of butter. I ground on fresh black pepper, sprinkled on salt and then waited for the slices to brown, flipping and seasoning and adding butter as needed.
Frying the tomatoes to golden brown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
The result: golden circles of green-fried tomatoes that tasted of sun and sky and earth. And of yesterday’s garden.
As I forked into the savory rounds, I thought of Mom and how she spaced tomato plants evenly in the tilled soil and ringed each with a rusty tin can opened on both ends. The cans protected the tender plants from the prairie wind and cold. I remember pouring water into those cylinder reservoirs, overflow sometimes flooding the surrounding ground. When the plants edged over the cans, Mom removed the weather shields.
To me, green fries rate as much more than a food I enjoy. They are part of my culinary family history. A connection to my now 89-year-old mom who, though no master chef, did her best to feed her family with food sourced from our farm.
TELL ME: Do you have a favorite food tracing to your childhood and that you crave today? I’d like to hear. And, have you ever eaten, or made, green fried tomatoes?
The beautiful Harvest Box inside the Cannon Falls Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
INSIDE THE ENTRYWAY of the Cannon Falls Library, a multi-tiered mini vegetable stand holds an array of fresh vegetables on a mid-October morning. Green peppers. Green beans. Cucumbers. Squash.
The produce is artfully displayed in a beautifully-crafted wooden shelving unit labeled with an appealing graphic of colorful vegetables and the words, Harvest Box. I figured this was the yield of an on-site garden, similar to the one at Buckham Memorial Library in Faribault.
But assumptions are not always correct as I discovered. Rather local gardeners provide the produce. That includes Quiet Waters Ranch, a 22-acre Sogn Valley farm owned by Ben and Amanda Luther. Their non-profit received a Healthy Eating in Community mini-grant in 2018 from Live Well Goodhue County for a Community Giving Garden. Now they supply free fresh, organic produce to the library’s Harvest Box which launched in June. The library also received Live Well funding in late 2020 for the display unit and a mini fridge.
Cannon Falls Library Director Nicole Miller initiated the Harvest Box project after learning of one in North Carolina. She sought county funding for the display unit and fridge and also connected with Quiet Waters Ranch. All of this was prompted by her concerns about local food insecurity. “It’s a low cost way to help people out and to supplement the Food Shelf on days they aren’t open,” Miller said.
She delights in watching local gardeners drop off their extra produce.
I love this concept, this spin on the Little Free Library movement which saw mini libraries popping up all over. I love when communities work together, contribute, support, share. There’s so much good that comes from unity, from understanding that we have the power as individuals and communities to care for one another in real, tangible ways.
TELL ME: Do you have a similar Harvest Box or fresh food program at your local library or elsewhere in your community? I’d like to hear.
A beautiful birthday bouquet from my eldest daughter and her family. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2021.
I RECENTLY CELEBRATED a milestone birthday and I’ve never been happier to turn another year older. Gone is my absurdly high monthly health insurance premium of $1,245 (with a $4,250 deductible), replaced by affordable (and usable) Medicare coverage. And now I’m also eligible for the Pfizer booster vaccine. Yeah. Here’s to turning sixty-five.
Walking through the prairie at River Bend toward the woods. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2021.
I didn’t celebrate my birthday with great fanfare or the usual birthday treat of dining out. (Even though vaccinated, I continue to be cautious and careful in these days of COVID-19.) Rather, Randy and I hiked across the prairie and woods at River Bend Nature Center, a treasured place to connect with nature in Faribault.
Omelet and hashbrowns, alongwith watermelon from the Faribault Farmers’ Market, comprised my birthday brunch. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2021.
Afterwards, I enjoyed a delicious brunch prepared by Randy. We dined al fresco on our patio at a card table draped in one of my many vintage tablecloths.
Then, in the afternoon, we spent time with our eldest daughter, her husband and our precious grandchildren at their home. I appreciated the grilled burger and vegetables with my favorite, cheesecake, for dessert. A wonderful way to celebrate.
The only thing that would have made my birthday even better would have been the presence of our second daughter, her husband and our son. But they called from southeastern Wisconsin and northwestern Indiana and that brought me joy.
Thank you to those who sent cards, this one from my second daughter and her husband. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2021.
Some friends and extended family also texted wishes. I got greeting cards, too.
Gladioli from The 3 Glad Girls. Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2021.
Andy’s genuine passion for MEG’S Edible Landscapes showed in his pitch and his personality. He is a genuinely warm and engaging person. To summarize, Andy sells a mobile system for growing vegetables like peppers, basil, beans, lettuce, carrots and more in bags that you can easily pick up and move. It’s ideal, he said, for someone like me without garden space. If enthusiasm and knowledge make for business success, then Andy is certain to succeed.
His unexpected birthday gift of those smoked cayenne peppers touched me in a way that resonated deeply. In these challenging times, I needed that affirmation of an unexpected act of kindness. What a great way to begin my next year of life.
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