I love the pops of color these seasonal stands add to the landscape, setting the mood for October and the fun festivities the month brings.
Pumpkins of all sizes and shapes for sale at the Little Prairie stand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Growers gather in the pumpkins, heaping them atop wagons for ease of display and purchase.
A payment box and price list for mums and other plants at a seasonal roadside stand in Stanton. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Buying is made easy with secure drop boxes, pay on the honor system via cash, check or Venmo. I love the trust the sellers place in the buyers.
Oversized pumpkin art directs passing motorists’ attention to the Stanton pumpkin stand backed by a cornfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Decorative Indian corn decorates the pumpkin wagon at Stanton. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Beautiful potted mums for sale at the Stanton stand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I love, too, the signage, art and seasonal decorations which draw customers to stop and shop for pumpkins and often other goods like squash and mums.
Knucklehead pumpkins get their own display area at the Stanton stand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
It all feels so good and earthy and connective, this buying direct from the grower who seeds, tends, harvests, markets. Locally-grown at its most basic.
A field of sunflowers, ideal for photo ops, grows next to pumpkins and corn at the Little Prairieroadside market. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I love, too, how rural pumpkin stands pop up next to cornfields and occasionally sunflower fields. Sunflowers make me smile with their bright yellow blossoms. Sort of like thousands of smiley faces beaming happiness upon the land.
Getting in the spirit of Halloween on the Little Prairie pumpkin wagon along Highway 3. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
All these pumpkins placed for purchase prompt memories of Halloweens past. Of pulp and seeds scooped from pumpkins. Of pumpkins carved into jack-o-lanterns with toothy grins. Of jack-o-lanterns set on front steps and candles extinguished by the wind. Of pumpkins buried in drifts of snow in the Halloween blizzard of 1991 which dropped up to three feet of snow on parts of northern Minnesota and somewhat less here in southern Minnesota, but still a 20-inch storm total.
Pumpkins heap a wagon parked next to sunflower and corn fields at the Little Prairie stand along Highway 3. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Pumpkins represent more than a prop or seasonal decoration. They represent nostalgia, stories, the past, the present, the timelessness of tradition. Those are the reasons I can’t pass a pumpkin stand without feeling grateful, without remembering the childhood Halloween when I clamped a molded plastic gypsy mask onto my face or the Halloween I fingered cow eyeballs (really cold grapes) at a party in the basement of a veterinarian’s home or all the years I crafted Halloween costumes for my three kids.
Unpicked pumpkins in the Little Prairie field. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Then there’s the year I helped my father-in-law harvest pumpkins from his muddy patch in the cold and rain so he could take them to a roadside market in central Minnesota. Because of that experience, I understand the occasional challenges of getting pumpkins from vine to sale.
A cornfield backdrops the pumpkin wagon and signage at the Little Prairie pumpkin stand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I appreciate the growers who are offering all of us the beauty of autumn, the fun and fright of Halloween, and the gratitude of Thanksgiving with each pumpkin grown, picked and placed for sale at a roadside stand.
TELL ME: What does a pumpkin represent to you? Do you buy from roadside stands or elsewhere? I’d like to hear.
Parked at Thomas Gardens in Faribault, a late 1970s or early 1980s International tractor centers an autumn photo op scene. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
ON THE EVENING of the autumn equinox, I headed to Faribault’s east side, crossing the viaduct over the Straight River to Thomas Gardens along St. Paul Road. The business was closed upon my arrival, which mattered not to me. I was here to photograph an International 274 tractor and pumpkins during “the golden hour.” That’s an hour before sunset or an hour after sunrise when the warm, soft glow of the setting or rising sun proves particularly lovely for taking photos.
The setting sun shines through an opening in the treeline as I shot this image. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
As I framed the tractor, staged as a photo prop in an autumn scene of straw bales, varied colorful pumpkins and corn shocks, I noticed the golden orb of the sun peeking through the treeline across the street. I remained ever cognizant of the light, diminishing with each snap of the shutter button.
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I felt giddy as I photographed first that tractor and then masses of pumpkins outside the building. Colors popped in the perfect light. Multi-hued pumpkins. Deep orange ones. White ones. Yellow ones. Pumpkins with warty bumps, others smooth. Sooooo many pumpkins scattered across the street-side yard.
Thomas Gardens is housed in this building along St. Paul Road on Faribault’s east side. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I remember when the previous owners of 50-plus years piled pumpkins onto flatbed trailers parked inside and outside Twiehoff Gardens & Nursery. Matt and Stefanie Thomas bought the business in 2019. Matt grew up on a dairy farm near Dundas, which pleases me given I was also raised on a dairy farm. Like me, he understands hard work. On his business website, Thomas writes about teaching his three kids the value of hard work, teamwork and family values. This seems a good place to do that.
Mums for sale outside the greenhouses. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Here the Thomas family grows and sells garden-fresh vegetables, flowers and plants, plus markets honey, maple syrup, Christmas trees and more from their pole shed style building, greenhouses and the yard where I roamed with my 35mm Canon EOS 60D camera.
Mostly potted mums, but a few other flowers and plants, are for sale in autumn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
When I finished photographing the tractor and all those pumpkins, I moved onto the flowers, mostly mums. The flower of fall. Single colors and multi colors in pots. Oranges, yellows, rose, even white.
A pumpkin tops the tractor against a corn shock with a tint of pink in the sky. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I aimed my camera lens down for a closeup photo of a massive striped pumpkin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
Pumpkins set next to a tractor tire pop color in the grass. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
I remained caught up in my photography until I glanced back at the tractor and the treeline. In that moment I realized I really wanted to watch the sun set at City View Park, just down the road a bit. It’s a beautiful site overlooking Faribault next to a city water tower and across the street from Trump’s Apple Orchard. We occasionally picnick here and watch the Fourth of July fireworks at this hilltop location.
Just after sunset at City View Park, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2025)
But Randy and I arrived too late. I could see, as we pulled into the small parking lot, that the orange ball of the sun had already dropped leaving a skyline tinged with pink. Disappointment coursed through me.
Yet, others didn’t miss the sunset. Three teenage boys sat on a park bench facing the city overlook. As I walked toward them, I wondered why they were here, what they might be doing. Yes, I admit I thought they might be up to no good. I was wrong. They were here watching and photographing the sunset with their smartphones. I asked to see their pictures and they pulled out their phones and showed me the beauty I missed by my delayed arrival.
I took the opportunity then to praise them—to tell them how wonderful it was to see them outdoors, appreciating the sunset. Moments like this, generational interactions like this, conversations like this, matter. These youth understood the value of pausing to sit and watch the sun set across their city on the first evening of autumn. And I recognized the value of acknowledging that.
Minnesota is known for its beautiful fall colors, although 2023 colors were not as brilliant as previous autumns due to drought and temps. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2021)
DURING THESE FINAL DAYS of October, when the sun blazes warmth into crisp days and leaves fall and pumpkins lie exposed in fields, vines withered, there’s a rush to pack in final autumn fun. And I did just that Sunday afternoon at Larson’s Bridgewater Farm on the northwest edge of Northfield.
Pumpkins galore, not at Bridgewater farm, but at a southern Minnesota apple orchard. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2021)
Here, on this working farm turned pumpkin patch destination, Randy and I joined our eldest and her family, among many multi-generational families focused on an experience that certainly beats picking pumpkins from a retail store display. This is all about connecting to each other and to the land. And this is all about building memories that remain long after the last pumpkin has gone into the compost pile.
A barrel train heads toward the pole shed, aside the corn maze at Bridgewater Farm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
I observed so many smiles, so much joy, so much exuberance. I remember thinking, as I cozied next to my daughter Amber at the back of a flatbed wagon pulled by a John Deere tractor, that life doesn’t get much better than this. Here we were, strangers crammed onto wagon benches, bumping around the farm, past the cattle and pole sheds and cornfields under a clear, sunny October sky. It was as if nothing existed beyond this acreage. I felt overwhelming peace, a surge of serenity in the simplicity of the moment.
Randy and I pose next to the old John Deere tractor. (Photo credit: Amber Schmidt)
Perhaps my farm background factored into my personal reaction. The sight of dried cornfields, the scent of manure, the fenced beef cattle and calves (especially the calves), the stacked hay bales, the tread of tractor tires embedded in mud, the old John Deere tractor (a photo op backdrop), all proved nostalgically uplifting.
Among several fun photo cut-outs in Bridgewater Farm’s Photo Alley. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
I doubt my grandchildren noticed any of this, except perhaps the barnyard smell. Izzy, 7, and Isaac, 4, were too busy enjoying the many kid-based activities offered at Bridgewater Farm. Twice they rode the barrel train that looped through a machine shed holding hay, past the livestock and then back. They climbed weathered bales stacked high, slides zooming them back to ground level. They twisted through the kids’ corn maze with us, their parents later following the more challenging adult version, which the grandparents opted out of to oversee the kids as they climbed the haystacks once again and then moved on to the corn box.
The kids’ hands-down favorite seemed to be the corn pit, where they shoveled kernels, filled pails, covered themselves in corn. Again, memories rushed back. Not of playing in shelled corn. But of decades ago farm work, of pushing wheelbarrows full of ground corn down the barn aisle to feed the cows. My grandchildren will never know that rural life, only the stories I share with them of yesteryear, of when Grandma was growing up on the farm.
A goat on a family member’s farm, similar to one at Bridgewater Farm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2018)
I enticed them to pet the silky ear of a goat before we headed away from the fenced goats and sheep to take posed photos at the seasonally-themed photo cut-outs. I didn’t take many photos during our afternoon outing, choosing to enjoy being in the moment without the distraction of photography. I left my 35mm camera at home. Intentionally. The daughter snapped plenty of images with her cellphone.
Izzy, especially tall for her age, and her brother check their height at Bridgewater Farm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
When we pedaled kid-sized and adult-sized tricycles (yes, me and the other adults, too, except for the too-tall son-in-law) around the trike race track, I remembered a black-and-white photo taken of me as a teen riding my youngest brother’s trike on my childhood farm, long legs bent awkwardly to the side, broad smile across my face. I smiled just as wide at Bridgewater Farm, my long legs bent awkwardly as I raced after my granddaughter peddling with her long legs bent awkwardly.
A field of pumpkins photographed in southern Minnesota in 2022. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2022)
Soon the grandkids were pulling a wagon to the pumpkin patch. And when they weren’t looking, Grandpa scooted on and the pulling halted and they turned to see us all laughing. Eventually we found just the right pumpkins hefted from the pumpkin patch, weighed and then loaded into the car.
What a fun-filled afternoon on the farm—one of nostalgia for me, but more importantly of experiencing simple joys with my family. And it all started with the kids wanting to go to a pumpkin patch.
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FYI: Pumpkin patch season is winding down in Minnesota. Bridgewater Farm is offering special MEA hours this Thursday and Friday from noon to 5 pm. Otherwise the farm is open only on weekends, October 28-29 being the final weekend with hours from 11 am – 6 pm. Admission to the pumpkin patch is free with a $10/person cost for all activities, excluding apple cannon shooting. That costs an additional fee. Pumpkins are sold both pick-your-own or pre-picked.
TELL ME: Do you have a favorite pumpkin patch in Minnesota or elsewhere. Let’s hear where and why it’s a favorite.
Teb’s Food Stand in Meriden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
FROM 7 am – 6 pm DAILY, Louise tends a tiny produce stand along a paved road in the unincorporated northwestern Steele County settlement of Meriden.
A peek inside Teb’s roadside stand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
That’s where I met her on a recent mid-October Sunday afternoon—outside a shed the size of an outhouse. Louise lives right next door to Teb’s Food Stand, a seasonal business owned by her friend, Teborah Kath. Teb, she noted, was likely, in that moment, busy canning vegetables at her nearby country home.
Teb’s canned Cherry Tomato Mix is almost like a work of art. Beautiful. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
Garden-fresh and canned vegetables define the bulk of inventory tucked inside this hand-built shed constructed of salvaged wood, galvanized metal and a modern front door.
Teb’s Dilly Beans. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
Another jolt of color in canned peppers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
An assortment of Teb’s homemade pickles. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
Here quart and pint jars edge shelves. Green beans pack tightly inside jars labeled Dilly Beans. Rich red tomato sauce colors Teb’s salsa. Oranges and reds and yellows mix inside jars of Cherry Tomato Mix and Peppers, splashing vibrant autumn hues. For pickle lovers, Teb crafts dill and bread & butter pickles.
Teb sells more than canned and fresh produce. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
She also sells baked goods—I spotted a singular package of bread. Next to the face masks, accessories and scrubbies.
Lots of squash options. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
Smallish pumpkins splash color into a corner. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
Bundled corn on a shelf. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
Seasonal fresh produce is sold here, too, and artfully staged. Piles of assorted squash fill metal tubs. Pumpkins hug a corner near the door. Decorative corn and gourds rest on shelves. And outside more pumpkins and a collection of mum plants define this as a seasonal mini marketplace.
Prices & mark-downs. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
Chatting with Louise, who stepped aside when I started taking photos, proved a delight. Considering her 11-hour days at this less-than-busy location, I asked how she passes the time. Reading? She’s not much of a reader, she said, referencing her farm upbringing and the need to stay physically active. Sometimes she leaves temporarily to do chores at home—like mowing her lawn. Or sometimes she simply has other things going on that take her away from the roadside stand.
If Louise isn’t there, just leave your payment in the locked box. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
A handwritten sign next to a locked honor system box directs customers to go next door or call Louise with questions. But don’t count on her having change. She doesn’t. I purchased two squash for $4, almost $5.
Gourds for fall decor. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
In addition to this small town produce stand, Teb also sells her garden and craft and baked goods at the Owatonna Farmers’ Market. Sales are good, even at the remote Meriden location, Louise noted.
The former creamery in Meriden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
Meriden is one of those rural places perhaps unknown to many. Driving into town, I noticed a former creamery, the brick building in remarkable condition.
Meriden’s grain complex. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
But it is the cluster of mammoth grain bins which landmark Meriden. Homes line the road past the elevator to a dead end, an unwelcome warning sign marking the end of the street.
A slow-moving train moves through Meriden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
Back at Teb’s Food Stand, conversation halted when a train car and locomotive rolled into town, horn blaring. Soon it reversed course, crossing the tracks again, horn blaring.
Teb’s Food Stand in Meriden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2021)
By then I’d gathered enough photos and information to craft a story. To write about Lousie and Teb and this tiny produce stand edging a paved road next to a harvested bean field in Meriden, Minnesota.
NOTE: Teb’s Food Stand will close soon for the season, if it’s not already closed.
MASSIVE MAMMOTH PUMPKINS sprawl across brick and cement walkways under the bridge in Wabasha in this season of autumn. Here among dried leaves drifted from trees and below traffic crossing the Mississippi River between Minnesota and Wisconsin, locals have staged the Pumpkin Patch.
It’s a place that attracts all ages, that draws people here to wander among the gigantic pumpkins somehow wrangled into place. This year’s winning pumpkin, grown by Gary Russell of Plainview, weighs 879 pounds. That’s a lot of pumpkin.
As enthralled as I was by these hefty pumpkins, I observed that my 18-month-old granddaughter and a lot of other kids (and their parents and grandparents) and others were equally as impressed.
My granddaughter carries a bean bag to toss into the candy corn prop.
The Pumpkin Patch certainly celebrates the season with pumpkins of all sizes, festive fall displays, themed kids’ games, occasional pony rides and music, and more. It’s the perfect mix to bring people to this spot, to draw them into nearby boutiques, eateries and more as they explore this southeastern Minnesota river town.
Izzy loves owls, including this one painted onto a tree in a bean bag toss game.
Families pose for photos on the stage against backdrops of fall decor.
Just across the street, more autumn-themed activities await families. Check back tomorrow as I showcase that portion of Wabasha’s SeptOberfest celebration. Wabasha wins my high praise for crafting creative spaces that focus on families and celebrate autumn in Minnesota.
HAVE YOU EVER TRIED to coax a cat onto a pumpkin? It is difficult at best.
I am not a cat owner. But I grew up with farm cats, simply calling, “Here, kitty kitty,” and the felines would come running. They did not, however, appreciate any attempts to dress them in doll clothes and then plop them into a doll buggy.
The sprawling garden includes pumpkins and popcorn.
That “here, kitty kitty” tactic did not work with Gretchen, who belongs to friends, Jeff and Mandy. My bible study group gathered recently at their rural Faribault acreage. We always socialize for an hour before digging into our study. And on this perfect late summer evening in Minnesota, we surveyed Mandy’s garden. Gretchen meandered with us among the vines and rows.
Hannah’s sunflowers
Mandy grows vegetables that I’ve never seen grown—like kidney beans and burgundy beans and tomatillos. This year she’s had help from Hannah, a teen who wanted to learn gardening.
Jeff coaxes Gretchen…
…onto the pumpkin.
Hannah planted pumpkins which just kept growing and growing and growing into ginormous orbs. I wanted to photograph them. But I needed scale. Ah, Gretchen the cat would be perfect. So Jeff, kind friend that he is, agreed to lure Gretchen onto a Great Atlantic (or something like that; Jeff couldn’t quite remember the name) pumpkin. Eventually I got an acceptable photo.
Later, Gretchen hopped atop a fence post, providing for more photo ops as the sun edged down:
When the photo shoots and garden tour ended, we began moving toward the house. But we were sidetracked. Debbie and I, dairy farmers’ daughters, checked out the barn. Most of the guys headed to a shed and scrounged in a scrap metal pile. Steve, the artist among us, found metal for art projects and a trough that will work as a flower planter. Then Mike and I waded through tall grass with Mandy, aiming for the wood pile. There we rooted out wooden boxes. Mike also found scrap wood for his oldest son’s May wedding.
The barn rises high above the garden.
One person’s junk is another’s treasure.
The top of the silo and the barn roof.
What a fun evening it was, first touring and photographing the garden and Gretchen, then picking, then gathering around the kitchen table with dear friends to study, to share and to pray. I am blessed.
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’ 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.
Now add to that the yummy, chewy, chocolate-covered caramel turtles from The Chocolate Escape, the homemade tomato basil soup at The Olde Triangle (Irish) Pub, the street side festive corn shocks/fall decorations, and the gigantic pumpkins at the Pumpkin Patch under the Minnesota Highway 60 Mississippi River bridge.
Wabasha knows how to woo visitors with its irresistibly charming personality. While I delight in that put-on-its-best-face appearance, I search for the nuances that define this town’s character.
Dogs plopped on the sidewalk. A cat tucked under a stairway. Handwritten signs. Bricks, bikes and books. Tile floors. Friendly barbers. An old clock. Unattended stores. Polite motorists who stop for pedestrians. Benches that invite sitting a spell.
It’s there, all there, in Wabasha. Join me for a photographic stroll through this river town on an October afternoon.
Then, the next time you’re in Wabasha, or any town, take note of the store windows and walkways, the rooflines and the signage, the vibe of the place you are visiting. Seek out the details and enjoy.
Corn shocks, scarecrows and pumpkins add a festive flair to the downtown.
I saw two dogs and a cat hanging out, this one near Heritage Park by the bridge.
The historic skyline of Wabasha.
A storefront display of vintage fans in the window of Passe Electric.
A snapshot aimed toward the upper wall and ceiling of The Bookcliffs at Pembroke Avenue, just off the main drag.
The death of a businessman, announced in the window of his business, Gambles Hardware.
A nutcracker collection displayed in The Chocolate Escape.
More of those lovely old buildings.
An inspiring message posted inside The Bookcliffs.
A bench featuring Walter Mathau and Jack Lemmon from the movie "Grumpy Old Men," which was based on the setting of Wabasha, rests under the bridge.
The Pumpkin Patch, an autumn attraction under the bridge in Heritage Park.
My favorite pumpkin carving in the Pumpkin Patch.
Jewels on the River, a jewelry shop in the old city hall next to the bridge.
A scene under the Mississippi River bridge.
Crossing the Mississippi River bridge eastbound from Wabasha into Wisconsin.
IF YOU’RE LOOKING for something to do this weekend, consider coming to Faribault for the Fall Festival & Chili Cook-Off on Saturday, October 15, in our historic downtown. Sample and vote for chilis, served street side at businesses from11 a.m. – 1 p.m. A Kids’ Costume Parade along Central Avenue kicks off the event at 10:30 a.m. followed by pumpkin painting and treasures in the haystack for the kids. Adults will find plenty of shopping options in the downtown. Click here for more information.
You’ll also want to check out the South Central Minnesota Studio ArTour which begins Friday with previews in several studios from 4 p.m. – 8 p.m. The tour of 23 art studios in the Faribault, Northfield and Cannon Falls area, featuring 46 artists, officially begins Saturday and continues on Sunday. Hours are 10 a.m. – 6 p.m. Click here for more information.
Mounds of squash for sale at George Denn's roadside market.
BY GEORGE, that George is a mighty trusting fellow.
But, hey, the system must work for George W. Denn, purveyor of pumpkins, gourds, squash, hay and straw bales, corn shocks, apples, honey, popcorn, wheat, pumpkin seeds and books—I think that’s it—along Blue Earth County Road 2 on the Blue Earth/Le Sueur county line.
When you pull up to George’s roadside spread northeast of Mankato by Wita Lake next to his farm, he’s nowhere to be seen. That’s where the word “trust” factors into his Hey by George! business.
The Christian pumpkin farmer-writer relies on his customers’ honesty to simply deposit their payments in a secure metal box attached to the side of an old truck. Signage directs shoppers to “PAY ON OTHER SIDE” or to “PAY HERE.”
Apparently the system works. Or, if it doesn’t always work, perhaps George figures his business can survive a few stolen pumpkins, gourds or squash among the thousands he’s displayed.
If anyone happens to take one of George’s $14.99 inspirational books or some of his produce without paying, he/she may want to turn to page 35 in Hey By George!.
George reveals that he’s not only mighty trusting, but he’s also mighty forgiving.
You pay on the honor system, depositing your money into a box attached to the side of this old truck.
The money goes here, in this secured box, as directed.
If you can't find the perfect pumpkin here, then you probably won't find one anywhere.
A kitschy sign lists the price for corn shocks.
Piles of squash for purchase.
A close-up of the bumpy squash at Hey by George!
Heaps of squash at Hey by George!
Wispy wheat makes an artful display beside the wheel of the old truck.
Colorful squash next to the old truck are for sale.
Jars of wheat are among the offerings at George's roadside market.
George Denn's two books, Hey By George! and Hey By George II, are tucked into plastic boxes and are also sold on the honor system.
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