Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Jackie makes three August 23, 2013

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THRICE NOW I’VE MET, in person, Midwest bloggers with whom I initially formed online friendships. And they—Gretchen at A Fine Day for an Epiphany, Beth Ann at It’s Just Life and Jackie at Who Will Make Me Laugh—are as genuine in person as they are in their postings.

There are no pretenses. All three of these women are kind, generous and caring individuals who are the real deal.

I first met Beth Ann last December when she and her husband, Chris, drove up from Mason City, Iowa, to hear me read and present on poetry at the local library. Beth Ann didn’t tell me she was coming; she simply showed up. I recognized her from her online photo. We instantly connected and she has since visited me.

As an example of Beth Ann’s caring ways, she uses her blog to raise awareness of and donate monies to worthy causes via her “Comments for a Cause.” For each comment made, Beth Ann and Chris donate 50 cents to the selected cause. Fifty cents per comment adds up.

In the Worthington area, Gretchen is an active volunteer with many organizations and the entire family has participated in community theatre. A theatrical performance brought Gretchen, her husband and three children to Faribault last summer to see a play directed by a friend. Before the show, they dined at our house. This summer my husband and I dined at Gretchen’s home. It’s as if we’ve known them forever instead of just a year. They are that kind of warm and welcoming family.

Me, left, with Jackie

Me, left, with Jackie

Ditto goes for Jackie and her husband, Rick, whom we met on Sunday afternoon after moving our son’s belongings from his apartment in Rochester. It was our boy’s move three months ago that truly connected me, on a personal level, with Jackie. I asked her for suggestions on apartments and she presented me with a list. Later, when I was looking for thrift stores in town, she gave me another list. How nice was that?

But I wasn’t at all surprised at Jackie’s kind spirit. I’ve followed her blog for quite some time and knew we shared similar values and interests. Think driving down a country gravel road; appreciating barns, country churches, old country schools and cemeteries; photography; the importance of faith and family in our lives. Meeting Jackie in person on Sunday was like reuniting with a long-time friend.

As a bonus to our visit with Jackie and Rick, my husband and I met their son, Gavin, and their sweet granddaughter, Audrey. Upon our arrival, Audrey was playing with a tin of jewelry. She’s quite the diva, and I mean that in the most fashionable and nicest way. By the time I left, I was wearing a beautiful stone and bead bracelet in my favorite hues—green and purple—gifted by the darling little girl with the big brown eyes.

The bracelet Audrey gave me. My one regret is that I didn't have a photo taken of me and Audrey together.

The bracelet Audrey gave me. My one regret is that I didn’t have a photo taken of me and Audrey together.

Jackie has often written about Audrey’s giving spirit, so evident in her gift to me. I was deeply touched. I expect the spirit of generosity has been passed through the generations.

Now whenever I wear that bracelet, I’ll think of Jackie and Audrey and how individual writers and photographers, threaded through blogging, can form an unbroken circle of friendship.

FYI:

To read Jackie’s blog, Who Will Make Me Laugh, click here. Jackie, a nurse by professions, is an especially talented photographer who claims she could spend all day editing images.

To read Beth Ann’s blog, It’s Just Life, click here. Threads of compassion and care run through Beth Ann’s blog posts. I am trying to convince her to write a book of devotionals.

To read Gretchen’s blog, It’s a Fine Day for an Epiphany, click here. Gretchen is an incredibly talented writer, evident in her postings. She’s written a children’s book manuscript, which I fully expect to be accepted for publication someday soon.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Connecting cultures at the International Festival Faribault August 22, 2013

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Several Latinos lead in singing of Mexico's national anthem last September during the International Festival Faribault at Faribault's Central Park.

Several Latinos lead in singing of Mexico’s national anthem during the 2011 International Festival Faribault at Faribault’s Central Park. The flags represent the diverse cultures of Faribault.

ITS PURPOSES ARE TO PROMOTE understanding between cultures and to unite the community.

This Saturday, August 24, the International Festival Faribault will strive to do just that through song, dance, ethnic cuisine, children’s activities and more from 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. in Central Park.

Friends, Nimo Abdi, a sophomore at Faribault High School, left, and Nasteho Farah, a senior.

Friends, Nimo Abdi, left, and Nasteho Farah whom I met at last year’s fest.

I’ve attended the fest, now in its eighth year, several times. Each time I’ve gained a deeper appreciation for other cultures and for the challenges new immigrants to my community face. That hasn’t necessarily come simply via sitting on a park bench and watching ethnic dancers or listening to ethnic music. Nor has it come from purchasing food unfamiliar to my Minnesota taste buds.

That same little boy who was so intently focused on the musician.

A precious little boy photographed next to a vendor’s table during the 2012 International Festival Faribault.

Rather, I have learned the most by interacting, one on one, with those whose skin color and backgrounds differ from mine.

Therein, in my opinion, lies the key to understanding and uniting. The ability to see each other as individuals breaks down barriers, dispels untruths, brings people together. International Festival Faribault offers an ideal setting in which to connect personally.

Conversation and connecting..., no other words necessary.

Conversation and connecting…, no other words necessary. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo from the 2012 festival.

So to the residents of my community, I issue this challenge: Attend the festival and connect with at least one person you don’t know. If you’re the descendant of German immigrants, strike up a conversation with someone from Somalia. If your roots are in Mexico, introduce yourself to someone with Scandinavian ancestry. You get the idea.

An Aztec dancer, garbed in a symbolic headdress entertains the audience during International Market Day in Faribault.

An Aztec dancer, garbed in a symbolic headdress, entertains the audience during International Market Day in Faribault in 2009. The event has since been remained International Festival Faribault.

In between that mingling, be sure to take in these scheduled activities:

10:30 – 11 a.m., Contemporary Spanish music by Miguel Tobar of Medford, also the program MC

11 – 11:30 a.m., Flag Ceremonies

11:30 – noon, Central American dances presented by Florecitas de Dios, a children’s dance group from Owatonna

noon – 1 p.m., Aztec dancers

1 – 2 p.m., Juggling act

2 – 4 p.m., Reptile and Amphibian Discovery Zoo from Owatonna shows selected creatures.

2 – 3 p.m., Contemporary, gospel, pop and country music by Edy Valentine of Faribault

3 – 3:30 p.m., Somali dancers from the Twin Cities

3:30 p.m., breaking of pinatas and end of silent auction

A little girl stands on the opposite side of the group of children waiting to swing at the pinata.

A little girl stands on the opposite side of a group of children waiting to swing at the pinata during the 2012 festival.

Besides all of that, you’ll find a busy children’s area with a bouncy castle, games, face painting, hula hooping and more. One of the sweetest parts of this festival is to observe children, no matter their skin color, dress or culture, scrambling for candy from a broken pinata or sitting side by side at a picnic table coloring. They don’t care about cultural differences that seem to wedge into the minds of adults.

The United Way Red Truck will also be on the festival grounds with free children’s books to give away. I’m all for anything that encourages reading.

Served at the 2011 fest: Guatemalan chuchitos-- chicken, corn and salsa wrapped in a corn husk. You'll find numerous vendors offering a variety of authentic international foods.

Served at the 2011 fest: Guatemalan chuchitos– chicken, corn and salsa wrapped in a corn husk. You’ll find numerous vendors offering a variety of authentic international foods.

Come hungry as vendors will sell ethnic foods of Central America, Somali, Ethiopia, Norway, Germany and more. Craft vendors will also be on-site.

International Festival Faribault truly does offer all of us the opportunity to embrace one another, to understand and to unite.

FYI: Click here and then here to read my blog posts from the 2012 festival.

© 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

 

Parenting: Letting go & moving on August 20, 2013

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THIS WAS OUR WEEKEND:

My husband photographs our eldest daughter and her fiance in front of the rental house that will soon be their new home.

My husband photographs our eldest daughter and her fiance in front of the rental house that will soon be their new home.

Saturday my husband and I helped our eldest daughter and her fiance move her belongings from south Minneapolis to the other twin city and the rental house they will share after their upcoming marriage.

The first van full of our son's belongings ready to be carried into our house.

The first van full of our son’s belongings ready to be carried into our house.

On Sunday we drove an hour southeast to pick up the first van load of our son’s possessions, to move back home to Faribault. In about a week, he flies out to Boston to start classes at Tuft’s University after a summer of working at IBM in Rochester and a year at North Dakota State University in Fargo.

It’s a bittersweet time for us, the parents.

The living room of the engaged couple's rental house.

The living room of the engaged couple’s rental house.

We are delighted that our daughter has found the love of her life. Yet, if I’m honest, there’s also a certain sadness in the realization that the 27 ½ years since her birth have passed, snap, just like that.

Likewise, the 19 ½ years since our son’s birth have passed, snap, just like that. Now he is flying 1,400 miles away to pursue his education, his dreams.

The other daughter lives 5 ½ hours away in northeastern Wisconsin. Nearly three years have passed, snap, just like that, since she finished college, completed an internship in Argentina and moved to Wisconsin for her job as a Spanish medical interpreter.

I suppose all empty nesters go through this phase, this wondering of how the years vanished, how we’ve grown in to the elders with gray hairs and lines creasing our foreheads. It is a time of adjustment and change for our entire family.

The kids no longer live at home, but our house has become a storage facility for some of their possessions like these belongings moved into our living room and then upstairs.

The kids no longer live at home, but our house has become a storage facility for some of their possessions like the son’s belongings moved into our living room and then upstairs. Where to put all of this stuff…and the rest yet to come in the second load.

There are times when I wish I could swoop my trio in, bring them all back, keep them close, turn the clock back.

A dear friend, who is the mother of four ranging in age from almost three to 14, asked how I did it, how I let go. I advised her to start when the kids are young, allowing them little by little to spread their wings. Sunday School and church camp. Nights out with my husband, leaving the kids in the care of a capable babysitter. Annual overnight get-aways for the kids with doting aunts and uncles. Then later, mission trips to Texas and to national church youth gatherings. Volunteer trips to help with hurricane relief. Trips overseas during high school (for one) and in college.

I specifically recall my eldest’s announcement only weeks in to her freshman year at Winona State University that she was joining a spring break mission trip to Paraguay. “Where’s that?” I asked.

I won’t lie. It was not always easy to see my three venture across the U.S. and abroad. It wasn’t even easy when I sent my eldest, as a kindergartner, to church camp a half hour drive away. It isn’t easy now putting my youngest on a plane to Boston. Yet with each letting go, I learned that I could entrust my children to the care of others, that they needed to achieve independence, to experience new things, to grow—away from me and their dad.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Thoughts on writing a winning poem August 19, 2013

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EVERY TIME I PEN a poem, I wonder, will it inspire, touch, resonate with the reader? Is my poem worthy to be seen by others? Is the poem truly finished, ready to reveal? Or should I hold on to it longer, refine it, anguish over whether I’ve chosen the right word, the right phrase?

At some point I must tell myself, “You’re done.” I must make that leap of faith, overcome those self doubts and share what I’ve written.

For me that usually comes in entering a poetry competition. Even if I’m confident I’ve written a decent poem, it’s still scary to put yourself out there. But I have and I’ve discovered, in the process, that I can write poetry.

My award.

My most recent award. You can click on the “About” section of my blog to see the other honors I’ve garnered for my poetry. Photo courtesy of Sue Ready.

That was reaffirmed for me again this past Saturday when my poem, “Lilacs,” was selected as one of six Works of Merit in the sixth annual Poetry Recognition Event during the Northwoods Art and Book Festival in Hackensack.

Attendees at the Northwoods Art & Book Festival view showcased poems and then vote for their favorite in the Popular Choice awards.

Attendees at the Northwoods Art & Book Festival view showcased poems and then vote for their favorite in the Popular Choice awards. Photo courtesy of Sue Ready.

I’m in the company of other Minnesota poets, Louise Bottrell, Marlys Guimaraes, Miriam Kagol, Joanne Moren and Candace Simar, chosen by a poetry committee for the merit honor.

Lilac, close-up

Sweet lilacs.

As I often do, I turned to my past, to my memories of growing up on a southwestern Minnesota farm, to write “Lilacs.” I remembered the annual gathering of lilacs from the bush on my Uncle Mike’s farm, the next field over. And I connected that memory to today:

Lilacs

Breathing in the heady scent of lilacs each May,
I remember my bachelor uncle and the gnarled bushes,
heavy with purple blooms, that embraced his front porch
and held the promises of sweet love never experienced.

He invited his sister-in-law, my mother, to clip lilacs,
to enfold great sweeps of flowers into her arms,
to set a still life painting upon the Formica kitchen table,
romance perfuming our cow-scented farmhouse.

Such memories linger as my own love, decades later,
pulls a jackknife from the pocket of his stained jeans,
balances on the tips of his soiled Red Wing work shoes,
clips and gathers great sweeps of lilacs into his arms.

Plenty of lilacs to gather in the spring.

Plenty of lilacs to gather in the spring.

To read poems by two of the other merit winners, click here to reach the website of Poetry Committee Chair Sue Ready, herself a poet. The winning poems will also be published in Hackensack area newspapers.

I am grateful to those like Sue and others and to the Northwoods Arts Council, which sponsors events like that in Hackensack. Without these opportunities, I might still be that poet wondering if my poetry rates as good enough for anyone to read other than me.

Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Gathering with the in-laws at the annual family reunion August 13, 2013

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Grandma Cheryl and Grandpa Roger help 6-month-old Aston make a luminary.

Grandma Cheryl and Grandpa Roger help 5-month-old grandson Aston with artwork on a luminary.

I AM BLESSED beyond measure to be a part of extended families who still care enough about the connections of blood lines and histories to reunite each summer.

This past weekend my husband, 19-year-old son and I headed north and west to the annual Helbling family reunion, this year in Morris. Our daughters, one of whom is preoccupied with wedding plans and packing to move while the other lives 10 hours from western Minnesota, could not attend. But I am used to that, having my own three together only once or twice a year.

Cousins and a cousin-in-law going strong in the gunny sack race until...

Cousins and a cousin-in-law going strong in the gunny sack race until…

...the brothers wipe out.

…the brothers wipe out.

Seeing my in-laws and their families, including lots of little ones, always proves a fun time from conversation to laughter and, this year, a few old-fashioned games tossed into the mix. No I did not participate. I am smarter than that.

The weather in Morris proved perfect with sunshine and intermittent clouds and temps more befitting of September than August. But I am not complaining. I love this kind of weather.

It was the perfect weekend, in so many ways.

My great nephew Cameron eyes the bocce balls.

My great nephew Cameron reaches for a Bocce ball rather than the smaller (and safer) child-sized balls.

Husband and wife team, right; my son and his godmother, middle; and niece and nephew-in-law line up for a three-legged race.

Husband (my nephew) and wife team, right; my son and his godmother (my sister-in-law), middle; and my niece and nephew-in-law line up for a three-legged race.

The final, ahem, leg of the race. The son and godmother were lagging way behind.

The final, ahem, leg of the race. The son and godmother were lagging way behind.

My nephew Nate tends to his nephew, Tristan, following a hand injury during a gunny sack race.

My nephew Nate tends to his nephew, Tristan, following a hand injury during a gunny sack race.

We all designed luminaries, including this one by my nephew-in-law Jason with his favorite quote, one that sits on his work desk.

We all designed luminaries, including this one by my nephew-in-law Jason with his favorite quote, one that sits on his work desk.

Jason and Jocelyn's oldest daughter, my great niece Meghan, works on her luminary.

Jason and Jocelyn’s oldest daughter, my great niece Meghan, works on her luminary.

Laughter and conversation around the campfire.

Laughter and conversation around the campfire.

The family luminaries light the path from the campfire and up the driveway to my sister-in-law and brother-in-law's home in Morris.

The family luminaries light the path from the campfire up the driveway to my sister-in-law and brother-in-law’s home in Morris.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Kids doing good in Owatonna August 8, 2013

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ALL TOO OFTEN we are quick to see the negative, to despair about the world today, to worry about what the future holds for our young people.

But then along comes something uplifting like a project undertaken by students from Lincoln and Washington elementary schools in Owatonna and my confidence and hopefulness are restored.

While accompanying my husband on a recent stop at St. Clair’s for Men in Owatonna to pick up his suit for our eldest daughter’s wedding, I noticed a basket filled with colorful art.

Houses 1

Of course, I inquired about the handcrafted pins, earrings and magnets and was pointed to a sign explaining the project.

Owatonna students, upon learning about the damage caused by Hurricane Sandy and the lives lost in that fierce storm last fall along the East Coast, decided to help. Thus the “Houses for the Homeless” fundraiser, initiated several months ago.

Houses 2

With mat board, markers and hand-painted papers, the young artists designed mini houses, a visual of the rebuilding process.

Already, I’ve been told (although not confirmed with project organizers), the project has raised $3,000 for Hurricane Sandy relief from those $5 per artwork piece sales.

If you’re feeling cynical today, or tomorrow, or the next day, about young people, then consider this fundraiser and these elementary school kids from Owatonna.

Houses 3

Students today, unlike those of my childhood, are growing up in a much different and bigger world. I don’t recall ever undertaking a single compassionate project during my school days. Activities such as “Houses for the Homeless” teach kids to think beyond themselves and their wants and needs. And that is a very good thing.

FYI: “Houses for the Homeless” pins, earrings and magnets are available for purchase in Owatonna at St. Clair’s for Men, Kristi’s Clothing, Cedar Floral Design Studio and Central Park Coffee Co.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

No siren equals misguided storm logic in Appleton, Wisconsin August 7, 2013

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SHE SHOULD KNOW BETTER. After all, I raised her to respect storms, to head to the basement when the siren sounds.

But early this morning, warning sirens didn’t alert residents of Appleton to the severe storm sweeping through this northeastern Wisconsin city. That’s according to my second daughter, who awakened between midnight and 1 a.m. to strong winds whipping and rattling the vertical blinds in her apartment between Northland Avenue and a residential street on Appleton’s north side, the area hardest hit in this community.

Rather than proceed to the basement, she opened her second floor sliding patio door, retrieved her pepper and other plants from the balcony and crawled back into bed. Her reason: No sirens.

Crazy girl. I taught her to respect severe storms like the one early this morning that produced reported “hurricane force” winds of up to 96 mph in Appleton and the surrounding region.

According to numerous online news sources, strong winds snapped more than 100 power lines and damaged the electrical network and transmission system leaving some 62,000-plus customers initially without power. My daughter is among those. It could take up to three days before power is fully restored to the area, according to information on the City of Appleton website.

Just blocks east of my daughter’s apartment, a section of main arterial Northland Avenue is closed due to downed power lines. Trees are down everywhere, she says, and Hortonville to the northwest of Appleton was especially hard hit. She drove by the town this morning en route to New London to interpret at a medical appointment.

Appleton Medical Center, where my daughter often interprets for Spanish-speaking patients, is reportedly operating on back-up power and is bringing in a second generator from Chicago. Surgeries have been canceled.

Residents in the region are dealing with felled trees and damage to buildings.

The Outagamie County (Appleton rests in part of this county) Emergency Operations Center has been activated, an emergency declaration issued and Red Cross shelters opened in New London and Wrightstown, according to the Outagamie County Facebook page.

The need for “great caution” while traveling in north Appleton, Grand Chute, Kimberly, Little Chute, Hortonville and Freedom is recommended because of downed trees and debris on roadways.

Now, after reading all of that, should my daughter have retreated to the basement of her apartment building during this morning’s storm?

This mom thinks so.

Should the sirens in Appleton have been activated?

This mom thinks so.

WEDNESDAY EVENING UPDATE: According to news reports, the National Weather Service has confirmed an EF-1 tornado in Appleton and an EF-2 tornado in the New London area. See this link:

http://www.fox11online.com/dpp/weather/tornados-leave-path-of-destruction

An additional Red Cross shelter has been opened in Appleton.

As of early this evening, my daughter still did not have power and was preparing to throw food and purchase additional candles and a bigger flashlight. She also is without hot water. She lives near the Northland Mall, which sustained roof damage.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Shopping for the father-of-the-bride at a “Main Street” men’s clothing store in Owatonna

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Chairs invite customers and passersby to sit a spell outside St. Clair's for Men and Owatonna Shoe.

Chairs invite customers and passersby to sit a spell outside St. Clair’s for Men and Owatonna Shoe.

THERE’S SOMETHING TO BE SAID for a long-standing men’s fine clothing store like St. Clair’s for Men in Owatonna.

My husband, who was shopping for a suit for our eldest daughter’s wedding, ended up at St. Clair’s after quick stops at two large retail chain stores. In at least one of those stores, we rummaged through racks of suit coats and dress pants without a clerk in sight to assist.

Randy received attentive personal service from the minute he walked into St. Clair's for Men.

Randy received attentive personal service at St. Clair’s for Men.

But the minute we walked in the door at St. Clair’s, 117 N. Cedar Avenue in downtown Owatonna, Randy received top notch personal service. I didn’t get the employee’s name, but he knew sizes just by looking at my husband, although he did pull out the tape measure for arm length. He’s worked at St. Clair’s for 27 years.

According to the business’ website, “With over 140 years of combined menswear experience, we are sure we’ll spoil you for shopping anywhere else.” They got that right.

A snippet of the fine clothing at St. Clair's.

A snippet of the fine clothing at St. Clair’s.

Since 1890—that’s 123 years—this business, owned by Greg Krueger since 1982, has served men in southern Minnesota.

Meandering through the store, I found this iron set up in the rear. Another example of customer service.

Meandering through the store, I found this iron set up in the rear. Another example of customer service.

Shopping at St. Clair’s, for us, took the stress out of purchasing a suit for the most important day of a father’s life. Randy got a perfect fit, after free alterations at the in-house tailor’s shop.

Randy even brought home a leaflet on how to tie ties.

Randy even brought home a leaflet on how to tie ties.

A small sampling of the ties sold at St. Clair's.

A small sampling of the ties sold at St. Clair’s.

The sales prices of the suit coat, pants, white shirt and tie made buying here no more costly than purchasing from a mega retailer.

A model business motto imprinted upon a St. Clair's bag.

A model business motto, “your personal men’s store,” imprinted upon a St. Clair’s bag.

If this sounds like an enthusiastic endorsement of St. Clair’s for Men, it is.

St. Clair's for men sits next to Owatonna Shoe, which has been "serving the area for over 65 years, with service, quality and fit!"

St. Clair’s for men sits next to Owatonna Shoe, a family-owned business which has been “serving the area for over 65 years, with service, quality and fit!” Catch that? Service, just like that offered at St. Clair’s.

I’m all for great customer service, a business art that seems mostly lost but for these small town independently-owned Main Street shops.

Full service independent men’s clothing stores are rare these days. I remember when two such shops, Jim & Joe’s and Ochs Department Store, existed in downtown Faribault. No more.

So I am especially thankful for places like St. Clair’s for Men which, with knowledge, individual attention and outstanding customer service, transformed my hardworking blue collar husband in to one mighty handsome father-of-the-bride.

© 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