Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

A photo essay: St. John’s Germanfest in rural Minnesota September 29, 2013

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I AM 100 PERCENT German.

My plate, filled with German foods at St. John's annual Germanfest.

My plate, filled with German foods like sauerbraten, sauerkraut, German potato salad, sweet and sour beets and more at St. John’s annual Germanfest.

I like German food.

Today was a gorgeous autumn day here in southeastern Minnesota, as glorious as they get.

The steeple of the historic stone church with the roofline of a German themed beverage booth in the foreground.

The steeple of the historic stone church with the roofline of a German themed beverage booth in the foreground.

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Wheeling Township, rural Faribault, was hosting its annual Germanfest at its historic stone church out in the country.

Just a snippet of the buffet line.

Just a snippet of the buffet line.

I had to eat.

The social hall and rooms off the dining area were filled with diners.

The social hall and rooms off the dining area were filled with diners.

And I couldn’t think of a better place to dine on this Sunday afternoon than at St. John’s. Great food in the company of wonderful folks. Out in the country. Perfect weather. Perfect day.

Some of the St. John's kitchen crew, including long-time member Elsie Keller who is making German potato salad.

Some of the St. John’s kitchen crew, including long-time member Elsie Keller who is making German potato salad.

One of the major components of Germanfest is the fabulous quilt show inside the sanctuary.

One of the major components of Germanfest is the fabulous quilt show inside the sanctuary.

Among the incredible quilts were these three hung from the balcony.

Among the incredible quilts were these three hung from the balcony.

Each quilt comes with a story, this one among my favorites.

Each quilt comes with a story, this one among my favorites.

That glorious quilt show.

That glorious quilt show. Here you are seeing only a snippet of the quilts draped over pews.

My husband and I each bought a quilt raffle ticket.

My husband and I each bought a quilt raffle ticket.

The beautifully-appointed altar, complete with German and American flags.

The beautifully-appointed altar, complete with German and American flags.

Outside the church, I fell in love with the adorable goats at the petting zoo.

Outside the church, I fell in love with the adorable goats at the petting zoo.

And this little guy loved the miniature donkeys.

And this little guy loved the miniature donkeys.

Along with fresh produce and bakes goods and greeting cards (some published by Warner Press with my verses)

Along with fresh produce and baked goods and greeting cards (some published by Warner Press with verses I wrote) and apple jelly was this art (including these cute pooches).

Bingo drew the young and the older.

Bingo drew the young and the older.

Old-time music drew dancers and listeners to the tent next to the church.

Old-time music drew dancers and listeners to the tent next to the church.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A photo essay: A peek at wedding prep details September 20, 2013

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Only 115 chair sashes and napkins to iron.

Only 115 chair sashes and napkins to iron.

Listening to Peter Ostroushko's original score, "Minnesota, A history of the land," while ironing. Also listening to Christian radio station KTIS.

Listening to Peter Ostroushko’s original score, “Minnesota, A history of the land,” and a Josh Groban CD while ironing. Little did I know when I chose the Groban music that “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” would be among the selections. Also listening to Christian radio station KTIS to de-stress and focus.

Vintage blue canning jars have been rented and readied for bridal party and table bouquets.

Vintage blue canning jars rented and readied for bridal party and table bouquets.

The son's (usher's) shoes are shined, awaiting his arrival home from Boston.

The son’s (usher’s) shoes are shined, awaiting his arrival home from Boston.

Hydrangea have been picked and are drying in the garage, awaiting placement in urns outside the reception venue.

*Hydrangea have been picked and are drying in the garage, awaiting placement in urns outside the reception venue.

The father-of-the-bride has been fitted for, purchased and picked up his suit. He is anxious to have all those hydrangea out of the garage.

The father-of-the-bride has purchased his suit and his speech is written. (He is anxious to get the hydrangea out of the garage.)

Wedding programs are printed.

Wedding programs are printed.

And the couple is checking out wedding shot locations.

And the engaged couple is scouting out wedding photo locations.

* NOTE: Remember the story of the hydrangea thief?  I awoke one July morning to find about a dozen hydrangea plucked from the bushes in front of my home and strewn across the lawn and street.  Click here to read that vandalism post.  Not knowing whether the flower thief would return, my floral designer sister decided to supply the hydrangea for the wedding party and table bouquets and pew decorations. That way I would not need to worry about the hydrangea. Thank you, Lanae. The thief never returned. Two weeks ago I discovered that flowers in the beautiful urns outside the reception venue were dead. So I harvested nearly 40 hydrangea to fill those pots.

Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Forever rooted to rural Minnesota September 13, 2013

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Rural, barn and bins

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

Rural, roof collapsing

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

Rural, barn with windmill

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

Rural, barn quilt

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

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

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A photo essay: Life on a Saturday in southern Minnesota September 8, 2013

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IF EVER I DOUBT carting my camera with me nearly everywhere, I need only consider the photos I snapped on Saturday in rural Minnesota. The images show snippets of everyday life, of moments and places that seem not extraordinary at first pause, but which are extraordinary for the stories they tell. This is life.  These are the moments of our days, the Main Streets of our towns, the way we live.

And I delight in all of it, in this place I call home, this southern Minnesota.

Mid-morning Saturday, while I was watering my flowers, a mini tractorcade puttered past my Faribault home. By the time I realized what I was seeing and retrieved my camera from my office, I

Mid-morning Saturday, while watering flowers, a mini tractorcade puttered past my Faribault home. By the time I realized what I was seeing and retrieved my camera from my office, I was able to photograph only the tail end of the line. Lesson learned: Grab my Canon before going outside to water flowers.

Over in Owatonna in the afternoon, I shot this signage in the heart of downtown. Walt the Barber. I expect he could spin a story or ten.

Over in Owatonna in the afternoon, I shot this signage in the heart of downtown. Walt the Barber. I expect he could spin a story or ten.

Perhaps Owatonna's best-known historic building,

Perhaps Owatonna’s best-known historic building, the old National Farmer’s Bank Building, considered by some to be “the most beautiful bank in the world.” I’ve toured it previously and can vouch for the accuracy of that description. Chicago architect, Louis Sullivan, designed the bank, built in 1908. It’s a must-see.

On the opposite side of the street from the bank, I spotted this cooler of fresh sweetcorn outside of Party-Plus of Owatonna.

On the opposite side of the street from the bank, I spotted this sign in the front window and this cooler of fresh sweetcorn outside of Party-Plus of Owatonna. My husband had already purchased sweetcorn earlier in the day for more money, so we didn’t need any. If you’re looking for anything party related, this store offers a great inventory of products.

I stopped at family-owned Owatonna Shoe and snapped 40 photos, the best of which I will share in a later post. For now you'll have to settle for this exterior shot.

I stopped at family-owned Owatonna Shoe and snapped 40 photos, the best of which I will share in a later post. For now you’ll have to settle for this exterior shot with that delightful OPEN TODAY til 5:00 postscript. I’ll also feature photos from “Steele County: Butter Capitol of the World,” an exhibit at the Steele County History Center and my reason for visiting Owatonna on Saturday.

I love beautiful historic architecture. Driving by Kristi's Clothing in downtown Owatonna, I zipped down the window and shot this image of one splendid detailed building.

I love beautiful, historic architecture. Driving by Kristi’s Clothing in downtown Owatonna, I zipped down the window and shot this image of one stunning building. Look at that sweet balcony and the detailed art.

Instead of bar hopping, this bridal party stopped at an Owatonna ice cream shop for sweet treats. I captured this scene as my husband and I were leaving the downtown area.

Instead of bar hopping, this bridal party stopped at an ice cream shoppe. I captured this scene as my husband and I were leaving downtown Owatonna and heading back to Faribault via County Road 45. No Interstate 35 for us due to road construction.

The Congregational United Church of Christ posted this sign on its message board along the main drag through Medford.

The Congregational United Church of Christ posted this message in the heart of Medford. I love these faith-based messages because they always cause me to reflect. Mini sermons, I call them.

Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

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

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

Displayed at the Friends of Minnesota Barns booth.

Displayed at the Friends of Minnesota Barns booth.

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

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

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

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

"Quality Lawn Ornaments" from Michniewicz Sales.

“Quality Lawn Ornaments” from Michniewicz Sales.

I did a double take on this potty humor:

Brand loyalty and barn humor.

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

Let me show you something sweet and endearing:

Family time at the playground.

Family time at the playground on vintage playground equipment.

And patriotic:

Flags abound at the show.

Flags abound at the show.

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

Vintage Farmalls.

Vintage Farmalls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just because I found this Cropgard Farm Dryer interesting:

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

Apparently not just an ordinary vintage farm wagon.

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

Immersed in tractor talk.

Immersed in tractor talk.

Tractors everywhere:

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

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

More cool vintage:

Anything rustic and vintage has visual appeal.

Anything rustic and vintage appeals to me visually.

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

Passing a love of tractors on to the next generation.

To future generations of John Deere tractor lovers…

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

Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A photo essay: The wheels go round and round September 5, 2013

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THE SONG REPEATS in my head. The wheels on the bus, except I’ve substituted tractor, go round and round. Round and round.

Everywhere I turned, wheels/tires/circles fell in to my line of vision at the Rice County Steam and Gas Engines Show.

The wheels on the tractors go round and round. Round and round…

The tractor parade on Sunday afternoon. This year's feature tractor was the Massey-Harris.

The tractor parade on Sunday afternoon.

Among the oldest of wheels.

Among the oldest of wheels.

An old steering wheel.

An aged steering wheel.

Oh, to overhear this conversation between the wheels of a John Deere tractor.

Oh, to overhear this conversation between the wheels of a John Deere tractor.

Rims at the flea market.

Rims at the flea market.

Adding 100-pound wheel weights for the tractor pull.

Adding 100-pound wheel weights for the tractor pull.

The wheels on the tractor go round and round at the tractor pull.

The wheels on the tractor go round and round at the tractor pull. I had to walk away as the noise was deafening and I am already deaf in one ear.

More my type of wheel, at the flea market.

More my type of wheel on a Unique “Dependable” Typewriter for sale at the flea market.

The merry-go-round wheel goes round and round.

The merry-go-round wheel goes round and round.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Oddities & art at a rural Minnesota flea market September 3, 2013

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WHENEVER I SHOP a flea market with my camera, I challenge myself to find and photograph items that rate as unique, odd, artistic. I consider shapes and fonts, weirdness and, really, anything unusual that catches my eye.

Sunday afternoon browsing the Rice County Steam and Gas Engines Show Flea Market in rural Dundas provided plenty of subject matter.

Here are my top picks for flea market art and oddities, starting with the weirdest, a trio of doll heads in a colander:

Kind of creepy if you ask me.

Kind of creepy if you ask me.

The same vendor, Lou of Mantiques LLC (gotta appreciate that creative name), also offered another odd item, a child’s coffin, for sale. It drew my interest in that unsettled sort of way when you’re curious enough to ask but are uncertain you want to hear the story.

A child's coffin.

A child’s coffin.

According to Lou, who speaks with a thick accent even after 18 years away from Boston, during the diphtheria epidemic parents built coffins in advance, storing the boxes in barns in anticipation of their children’s deaths. Sad. Just plain sad. The coffin Lou was selling has never, obviously, been used but was passed down through the generations. Not in his family; some other. I can’t imagine anyone buying this coffin, but…

Michniewicz Sales presents "Quality Lawn Ornaments" made in the USA.

Michniewicz Sales presents “Quality Lawn Ornaments” made in the USA, in living color.

To balance the melancholy of that story, let me show you a sampling of Bob Michniewicz’ kitschy lawn ornaments. I first met Bob a year ago at the same flea market, photographed and blogged about him (click here to read that post). He was happy to see me again as, apparently, the publicity I gave him last September resulted in the sale of 10 cow lawn ornaments. Bob extended an open invitation to photograph his art anytime I please.

Tool and/or art, you decide.

Tools and/or art, you decide.

Now not all vendors are likely aware that they’ve created art. Or perhaps the art unfolds in the eyes of the beholder. While most flea market shoppers would see open end wrenches, dies, a brush and a turnbuckle hook when viewing these tools, I see something more—a collage.

Historic art.

Historic art.

Ditto for community celebration and homecoming buttons. These are mini pieces of historic art. Mini, however, would not describe the Albert Lea Tigers’ “Stomp the Packers” (as in Austin, not Green Bay) homecoming button. That button is the size of a dessert plate. Wowza.

A vendor's "trailer."

A vendor’s “trailer.”

Finally, my camera lens landed on a vintage Winnebago camper because, yes, sometimes even a camper converted into a flea market merchandise hauler can be a work of art in angled lines and graphics.

There you have it. My top picks from this year’s flea market.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A crop dusting photo essay August 27, 2013

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Frame 1

Frame 1

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

Frame 2

Frame 2

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

Frame 3

Frame 3

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

Frame 4

Frame 4

Frame 5

Frame 5

Frame 6

Frame 6

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

Frame 7

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

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

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

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

Thoughts?

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Meet Bill, the sweetcorn salesman August 21, 2013

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

Bill Edelbach sells fresh vegetables to my husband, Randy.

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

Cucumbers and peppers, three for $1.

Cucumbers and peppers, three for $1.

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

Even a few heads of cabbage for sale.

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

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

Years of work etched in Bill's face.

Years of work etched in Bill’s face.

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

Gotta appreciate the handcrafted signage as much as Bill.

Gotta appreciate the handcrafted signage.

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

Bagging our sweetcorn late Sunday afternoon.

Bagging our sweetcorn late Sunday afternoon.

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

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

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

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

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

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Showering the bride-to-be (my daughter) with gifts & love August 6, 2013

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MY HUSBAND’S ELDEST SISTER suggested early on that I put away my camera.

But how could I, with no other camera in sight, set aside my Canon and simply allow the events of the afternoon to imprint upon my memory only?

Guests filled the living room and spilled into the dining room for my daughter's Saturday afternoon bridal shower.

Guests fill the living room and spill into the dining room for my daughter’s Saturday afternoon bridal shower.

I needed to visually capture these moments in which my eldest daughter, Amber, was showered with gifts and love at her bridal shower.

The bride-to-be opens gits.

When I look back now on these images, I remember the laughter, the emotions, the excitement, the joy, the delight that comes in knowing your daughter has grown in to this incredible young woman who is head-over-heels in love…

Shower, gift

White lace and white bows.

My floral designer sister Lanae created these bouquets, which include flowers that will be among the wedding flowers.

My floral designer sister Lanae created these bouquets, which include blooms that will be among the wedding flowers.

Flowers and chocolate and “fu fu.”

The most emotional moment of the shower came when Amber opened linens hand embroidered by her future husband's maternal grandmother, who died in 1992. She embroidered the linens to be gifted to her grandson's future bride.

The most emotional moment of the afternoon came when Amber opened linens hand embroidered by her future husband’s maternal grandmother, Beatrice (who died decades ago). The linens were to be gifted someday to Beatrice’s grandson’s bride-to-be. And this was the day when my daughter’s future mother-in-law delivered the precious packages. The embroidered hues of the flowers are the wedding couple’s colors, making this gift even more remarkable as Grandma Beatrice could not have known this.

Linens, a legacy of love and tears.

The gift of a clothes hamper prompted me to share that 30-plus years ago, the aunts on my father's side always gifted brides-to-be with a hamper and a bathroom scale.

The gift of a clothes hamper prompted me to share that 30-plus years ago, the aunts on my father’s side always gifted brides-to-be with a hamper and a bathroom scale. After much laughter, the group consensus was that a scale would not be a welcome gift. Times have changed. I still have my brown hamper, which looks quite similar to my daughter’s, but not the scale. That broke years ago.

Pots and pans and knives. A hamper for their clothes. The tools to create their new home.

Shower, recipe

Her husband-to-be’s favorite recipes handwritten by his mother, Lynn, who flew in from California for the bridal shower.

Personal messages written from the heart inside cards.

Hugs and well wishes.

Wishes shared...and read.

And lovely words to read.

She was gifted with a personalized bag bearing her new last name of Schmidt.

She was gifted with towels and a personalized bag bearing her new last name of Schmidt.

Soon Amber Helbling will become Amber Schmidt.

The bride-to-be with her soon-to-be husband.

Amber and Marc

My daughter. My sweet girl. All grown up. And, oh, so in love with Marc.

BONUS PHOTOS:

The wonderful family and friends who gathered at my sister-in-law Joanne's house for the bridal shower.

The wonderful family and friends who gathered at my sister-in-law Joanne’s house for the bridal shower.

As always, my floral designer sister created a beautiful gift package.

As always, my floral designer sister created a beautiful gift package.

The delicious food, especially the dessert on the right. That's my 81-year-old mom to the right. She traveled several hours to attend her granddaughter's shower.

The delicious food, especially the dessert on the right made by my husband’s eldest sister. That’s my 81-year-old mom to the right. She traveled several hours from southwestern Minnesota to attend her granddaughter’s shower.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling