Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

“Winter’s Song,” memories, reflections & writing from Minnesota March 21, 2024

This abandoned farmhouse once stood along Minnesota State Highway 19 east of my hometown of Vesta on the southwestern Minnesota prairie. It’s no longer there. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)

A TIME EXISTED when I loved winter. The snow more than the cold. During my growing up years on a southwestern Minnesota farm, I could not wait for the first snowfall, which then piled snow upon snow upon snow for months.

This huge, hard-as-rock towering snowdrift blocked my childhood farm driveway in March 1965. (Photo credit: Elvern Kletscher)

Fierce prairie winds swept snow around outbuildings, sculpting rock-hard drifts, an ideal landscape for Canadian Mounties. Snow pushed into piles by the loader of Dad’s John Deere tractor became mountains, rugged terrain to conquer. And pristine snow presented the perfect canvas for a game of Fox and Goose.

Our southwestern Minnesota farmyard is buried in snowdrifts in this March 1965 image. (Photo credit: Elvern Kletscher)

I remember, too, the crisp winter evenings of walking from barn to house after finishing chores. Packed snow crunched beneath my buckle overshoes. Frigid air bit at my nose, my mouth streaming billows of vapor. Overhead a billion stars pricked light into the immense black sky. Ahead of me, windows glowed in our tiny wood-frame farmhouse.

Those are the good memories I choose to remember. Not the near-frozen fingers. Not the pot on the porch because we had no bathroom. Not the house foundation wrapped in brown paper to seal out the cold. Not the central oil-burning stove that never kept the house warm enough.

Today I have it so much better. A warm house with a bathroom. No cows or calves to feed or straw bales to shake or manure to scoop. No dealing with cracked, chapped, bleeding hands. I have every reason today to embrace winter minus many of the hardships of yesteryear. But I find I don’t.

I’m working, though, on shifting my attitude back to that of appreciating a season which is often harsh here in Minnesota, although not in this unseasonably mild and nearly snow-less winter of 2023-2024. Last winter, now that was a record snowfall winter which tested many a life-long Minnesotan. Except perhaps my friend Jackie of Rochester, who loves winter.

The vintage winter photo gracing the cover of Mischke’s book is from the archives of the Minnesota Historical Society. (Minnesota Prairie Roots photo)

Writer, musician, podcaster and former radio talk show host TD Mischke also loves winter (most of the time) as evidenced in his book Winter’s Song—A Hymn to the North, published in 2023 by Skywater Publishing Cooperative. I happened upon his collection of winter writing at my brother-in-law and sister-in-law’s house north of the metro. Jon is about as avid an outdoorsman as they come. Hunting. Fishing. And in the dead of winter, spearfishing on the frozen lake. This seemed a book written just for him.

Recognizing the Mischke name, I immediately inquired whether the writer, TD Mischke, was any relation to Sy Mischke, friend of my late father-in-law. Sy, a “character” by my definition, was TD’s uncle. TD Mischke certainly writes about characters in Winter’s Song.

Clearing snow is a sometimes endless task during a Minnesota winter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

His collection of short stories, essays and three poems honors Midwest winters. Not in a fully nostalgic way, but with a mix of reality. Winters are, admittedly, brutal. But also brimming blessings. The word “hymn” in the book title fits.

A lovely winter scene photographed in 2019 north of Faribault. It portrays the beauty of winter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

As I read through the short chapters, I found myself liking winter more and more. And that’s thanks to Mischke’s storytelling skills, his attention to detail, his introspective writing, his humor, his honest portrayal of winter in Minnesota. Not everyone is meant to live here. That Mischke acknowledges. But he also acknowledges the toughness, stamina, strength and endurance of those who call the North home. I agree that it takes a bit of fortitude to manage some six months of winter. I felt in that moment a sense of pride as a life-long Minnesotan.

Spring erupts in budding trees at Falls Creek Park, rural Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2019)

That brings me to the second to last chapter of Winter’s Song—“Lessons of March.” It seemed only fitting that I was reading this chapter near the end of March on a day of predicted snow. I’ve never liked March much. But Mischke reminded me that this often grey month, which can throw in surprise snowstorms, should be appreciated for the simple reason that it makes us appreciate April even more. The arrival of spring. He’s right. Winter is often about perspective. After finishing Winter’s Song, I feel my thoughts shifting toward a renewed appreciation for this longest of seasons here in Minnesota.

FYI: Winter’s Song—A Hymn to the North is a finalist for the 2024 Emilie Buchwald Award for Minnesota Nonfiction. Minnesota Book Award winners will be announced May 7. To listen to TD Mischke’s podcast, The Mischke Roadshow, click here.

 

Clutch of crocuses March 14, 2024

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Crocuses blooming on March 12. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2024)

DAYS AFTER I BRUSHED aside leaf mulch, my crocuses are in full bloom under the bold sunlight of March here in southern Minnesota.

Veins run through the cupped purple petals popping with golden centers. They are beautiful to behold. Vibrant in a landscape of brown.

Due to the unseasonably mild Minnesota winter, these crocuses are blooming weeks earlier than usual. Had I not uncovered the perennials several days ago to find a lone blossom leaning, I would have missed this explosion of color in my front yard flowerbed.

I admire crocuses, daffodils and tulips, the first brave flowers of spring. That they even survive in this harsh climate seems a miracle in itself. Crocuses store food in corms, their underground stem system.

And so I want to take a moment to celebrate this clutch of crocuses, to recognize the importance of noticing that which is right before our eyes. All too often we hurry through our days without pausing to appreciate the little things. The flush of blossoms. The bright flash of a cardinal. The scurrying of a squirrel. Today may you stop, look and see, really see, the beauty within this day.

TELL ME: What little thing are you seeing today that bring you joy?

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Uncovering spring in this non-winter in Minnesota March 12, 2024

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Under a layer of leaves, I found this blooming crocus. Already, in early March. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2024)

IN TRULY UN-MINNESOTAN fashion, I have penned very little this winter about the weather. That is atypical of a life-long resident. We are, if anything, obsessed about weather in Minnesota. We take pride in our cold weather, our snow, in managing to persevere in an often harsh climate. Weather affects our lives on a daily basis.

But this winter season, our image as the Bold Cold North has significantly changed. These past four months have been primarily snow-less and unseasonably warm. Sure, we’ve had a bit of snow and some cold snaps with sub-zero temperatures. Yet nothing like we’ve come to expect.

As I write, I look out my office window to a scene devoid of snow. The temperature is 46 degrees. At 9:51 a.m. on an early March morning. Laundry is drying on the clothesline. And the sun blazes bright upon the monotone landscape.

Daffodils, too, are emerging early. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2024)

If I look closely, I see signs of spring come too soon. I need only examine my perennial flowerbeds to find spring flowers emerging from the soil. Under a layer of dried leaf mulch, I uncover a single crocus tipped on its side. I push more leaves aside revealing tender shoots of crocuses and daffodils. They need sunlight to thrive.

Tulips on the south-facing side of my house started popping weeks ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2024)

Tulips and irises are up, too. Too soon. Not yet blooming. I noticed tulip bulbs popping greenery already in February.

All of this is an anomaly. We should be experiencing snowstorms and school closures, hearing the scrape of snowplows, the roar of snowblowers. Kids should be skating and sledding. As much as I appreciate the lack of icy roads and sidewalks, no snow to clear and no worry about winter weather, it just doesn’t feel right.

I’ve realized that I really do like the diversity of distinct seasons in Minnesota. There’s something to be said about anticipating spring after a long hard winter, like we experienced last year with record snowfall…

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Craving favorite comfort foods during a Minnesota winter February 28, 2024

A grilled cheese sandwich oozes processed cheese. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THIS TIME OF YEAR, throughout the long stretch of winter months in Minnesota, I crave comfort foods. Food that warms me from the inside out. Food that fuels me with energy. Food that makes me feel better simply because it tastes so darn good. Basic, often carb-packed, foods that are staples of generations of Minnesotans.

Topping the list of comfort foods for me is tomato soup served with a grilled cheese sandwich. Both are easy to prepare. Nearly every Saturday from November to March, Randy opens and mixes a can of condensed tomato soup with milk before preparing accompanying sandwiches. He smears butter onto slices of bread, layers processed cheese between and toasts the bread to golden perfection in a frying pan. There’s nothing better for lunch on a cold Minnesota winter day than a bowl of steaming tomato soup with a sandwich oozing melting cheese.

A perfect comfort food lunch: homemade chicken wild rice soup with homemade bread. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Soup and chili are the ultimate comfort foods. There’s comfort in the scent of soup simmering on the stove, in the taste, in the act of wrapping hands around a bowl warmed by hot soup or chili. And then that first spoonful of chicken noodle soup or chicken white chili or tomato-based beef chili loaded with beans or chicken wild rice soup, all homemade. Ah. Every bite tastes of comfort. With the exception of tomato soup, all soups served in my house are homemade by me.

The same goes for macaroni and cheese, another ultimate comfort food. Years ago as a busy mom of three, I occasionally resorted to boxed mac and cheese in my hurry to get a meal on the table. But the unnatural yellow powdered cheese stirred into the cooked pasta was visually unappealing and didn’t taste any better than it looked. Today I make mac and cheese from scratch using evaporated milk, butter and shredded cheddar cheese. I love mac and cheese as much as any kid, unless, of course, theirs comes from a box.

A sandwich board outside the Belview Bar & Grill in southwestern Minnesota advertises some comfort food lunch offerings. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I also love tator tots. We joke about Tator Tot Hotdish here in Minnesota. I haven’t made it in years. But I still like tots. Plain or, even better, topped with shredded cheddar cheese, a dollop of sour cream and bacon bits. Yes, it’s calorie-laden and likely not at all good for me. But, gosh, that combo pleases my palate like no casserole ever could except homemade Chicken Wild Rice Hotdish (not casserole), which I absolutely love.

A plate filled with comfort foods, including mashed potatoes and gravy, served at the annual harvest dinner at Trinity Lutheran Church, North Morristown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Potatoes are a comfort food. Whether shaped into a tot, mashed, baked or scalloped, potatoes are, for me, a comforting link to my childhood. I grew up eating meat, boiled potatoes with gravy and a side vegetable every night for supper, with rare exceptions. Our food came from our land, from our animals. It was good and wholesome, filling our stomachs, fueling our bodies to labor on the farm.

I recently tried a new banana bread recipe with a whole banana split length-wise and laid across the top of the batter. Delicious. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)

I also find myself craving sweets during the winter. Banana bread and chocolate chip cookies fall into the comfort food category by my definition. A just-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookie with melty chocolate or a slice of day-old banana bread satisfy my craving for something sugary. I try not to bake often, though, unless I’m shipping a care package to my son in Boston, the grandkids are coming or there’s a birthday to celebrate. Or the bananas on the counter are getting overripe.

Soon I will crave salads like this raspberry chicken salad from the Amboy Cottage Cafe in Amboy. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

In a few months, comfort food will hold less appeal as winter transitions into spring. Then my food focus will turn to fresh asparagus, rhubarb and spinach salad topped with sliced cucumbers, portabella mushrooms, tomatoes and blue cheese made and aged in sandstone caves blocks from my house. I’ll eat healthier, feel less laden by heavy food. But when the seasons shift again to shorter and colder days, I’ll once again crave grilled cheese and tomato soup, mac and cheese, tator tots…all the foods that comfort during a long Minnesota winter.

Chocolate chip cookies baked by a friend. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

TELL ME: What are your favorite comfort foods?

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

February snow in a mostly snowless Minnesota winter February 16, 2024

The unshoveled sidewalk in front of my house stretches before me mid-morning Thursday. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)

VALENTINE’S DAY BROUGHT our first measurable snowfall since Halloween in this unusual snow-drought winter here in Minnesota. I haven’t missed snow, especially after last winter’s exceptional record snowfall that caused even the hardiest of Minnesotans to wonder if the snow would ever end.

A winter with minimal snow makes life all-around easier. I doubt anyone living in our state would deny that. It’s easier to navigate without snow-packed roads and sidewalks. Randy’s commute to work on icy roads Thursday morning took 50 minutes rather than the typical 32. And no snow also means less work as in no snow to blow, blade or shovel.

I used my new Snow Trax for the first time Thursday morning. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo January 2024)

Thursday morning I had about three inches of snow to clear, not much really by Minnesota standards. I bundled up, starting by pulling long johns on under jeans. Then I layered a fleece-lined sweatshirt over a tee and flannel shirt topped by a lightweight jacket. I clamped Snow Trax onto snow boots. A stocking cap and mittens completed the ensemble.

I headed out the back door into the garage to grab the scoop shovel and the wide-bladed plastic snow shovel. I knew it would take both to effectively clear snow.

Snow layers my neighbor’s evergreens. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)

It was a beautiful morning with a white landscape set against a backdrop bold blue sky. Snow outlined branches, layered evergreen boughs and seedheads. And the sun glittered diamonds across the snow. Anytime the sun shines in winter, I feel better. There’s something about sunshine that offsets even the coldest temperatures, the deepest snow, causing spirits to soar.

My distorted shadow on the snow-covered lawn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)

As I pushed and scooped the snow from the sidewalk and driveway, I felt my stomach, leg and back muscles tightening. I worked at a steady pace, not pushing myself. Soon I found myself overheated. I unzipped my jacket, then the sweatshirt. I felt like I was sweating, even with a temp below 20 degrees. Shoveling snow, even if only a few inches, is a work out.

Scrape. Click. Scrape. Click. Scrape. Click. Melding with the scrape of the shovel and the click of studs on my Snow Trax was the splash of tires on the wet roadway. In February, the sun is strong enough to melt remaining ice and snow from hard surfaces cleared of initial snow. I wanted to get the snow off the sidewalk and driveway so the sun could melt the thin layer of ice and snow I couldn’t completely shovel away.

Remnants of a floral bouquet I received three weeks ago lie atop the snow. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2024)

I labored an hour shoveling snow, finishing on the south-facing patio. Randy grills year-round, so our patio always needs to be free of snow. As I pushed snow, I remembered the bouquet of mostly dead flowers I’d tossed out two days earlier. I pulled them from under the snow, laid them atop a patio table. The purples, pinks and greens contrasted against the virgin white snow, visually pleasing me.

On this Thursday, this day after Valentine’s Day, I didn’t mind the snow all that much. It felt, in a way, like the first snowfall of the season. Magical. Beautiful. And definitively more like Minnesota ought to appear in mid-February.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Winter, “real” winter, settles into Minnesota January 16, 2024

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A winter scene photographed from Interstate 35 north of Faribault in 2019. Today’s landscape looks similar. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

THERE, I LOCKED the cold outside,” he said upon securing the kitchen door before bedtime. My husband possesses a unique sense of humor. And on a brutally cold January evening with wind chills plummeting into the minus 30-degree range, humor is welcome, perhaps even necessary.

Fresh snow blown by strong winds created blizzard conditions in rural areas of Minnesota over the weekend, similar to this photographed in Rice County in January 2020. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo January 2020)

This is the winter some Minnesotans have awaited in a winter that has proven primarily warm and snow-less up until now. Then winter roared into Minnesota last weekend with blizzard warnings in the western part of the state, winter weather advisories and warnings elsewhere, and a much-touted snow event that didn’t quite deliver in my area. Strong winds and sub-zero temps followed.

I use these shovels to clear snow from the driveway and sidewalk. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo December 2021)

I felt thankful for the minimal snowfall of some four inches since I am currently the resident snow remover, a task typically handled by Randy. He is on physical restrictions for five weeks following a surgical excision on his lower back. So, by default, I must shovel snow.

Randy blows snow with our aged snowblower following a 2019 winter storm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo February 2019)

“I should have taught you how to use the snowblower,” Randy said as I slipped on a parka, boots, warm stocking cap and mittens (with hand warmers tucked inside), and wrapped a scarf across my face. I laughed. Our snowblower is massive, aged and not a machine I feel comfortable or capable of handling or maneuvering.

My warm winter boots. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Admittedly, I whined a bit. Not because of the shoveling, but rather the biting cold and bitter wind. As I pushed and tossed snow from the driveway and then the sidewalk, I felt my thumbs numbing. Soon I pulled them next to my fingers, clenching my hands into fists around the hand warmers.

As I worked, I determined I best change my attitude. Right then and there I re-framed my thoughts into one of gratitude that I could physically do this work. Not everyone my age can. Not everyone can due to other limitations. And not everyone has a partner who encourages with humor, even if I don’t always laugh.

Weather warnings like this one have popped up on phones around Minnesota in recent days. This warning was sent to my phone in February 2021. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo February 2021)

Monday morning dawned bright with sun dogs, a temp of minus 10 degrees and a wind chill I didn’t even want to know. I wanted to stay snug inside my warm house. But Randy and I pushed ourselves to get out and drive across town to the Shattuck-St. Mary’s soccer dome for a morning walk. On the way there, Randy noted the crunch of our van tires, a phenomena that happens in subzero temps like this. It’s a sure indication that it’s dang cold outside as are those columns of light flanking the sun.

Pulling into the parking lot, I saw a lot of vehicles. After several days of really cold weather, cabin fever becomes a real feeling. The need to get out and move, just not outdoors, becomes a priority. We looped the soccer field six times, still wearing caps and gloves. It may be warm inside the dome, but not that warm.

I usually drink coffee in my Minnesota Moments mug. I freelanced for this magazine, no longer in publication. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo January 2018)

Back home, I made coffee, loaded laundry in the wash, did some online tasks and texted friends before moving on to writing. I took a break later to empty the washing machine and carry the basket of clothes from the basement to the living room where I’d strategically positioned drying racks in front of heat vents.

“You’re not going to hang the laundry outside?” Randy joked from his comfy spot on the couch.

“Ha ha, very funny,” I replied. Not even I, a diehard of hanging laundry on the line (sometimes even in January), would attempt to do so when the temp is seven degrees below zero. I would risk instant frostbite while the wet clothes froze stiff in my hands. The brilliant sun shining bright upon the snow could almost fool me into believing, though, that enough solar power shone to sun-dry laundry. Yet, the truth of winter in Minnesota—real winter—is this: A sunshine-filled day can be an illusion. It is the temperature, the wind chill, the crunch of tires on snow, the locking of the door against the cold, which reveals reality.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The art & sport of ice fishing in Minnesota January 9, 2024

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Ice fishing themed neon art advertises Grain Belt beer, made by August Schell Brewing Co. in New Ulm, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2024)

IN THE UPSTAIRS ROOM of a small town southern Minnesota bar, I found myself drawn to the neon beer signs decorating the dark walls underscored by corrugated tin. The signs add an element of kitschy art to this space at The R Bar in Randolph where a group gathered for a holiday work party, Randy and I among them.

Ice anglers on Union Lake, rural Faribault, fish in the open on a sunny winter afternoon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Next to the slim cooler holding an assortment of mass-produced beers and a few other drinks, I spotted neon signage that is about as Minnesotan as it gets—a bundled up ice fisherman pulling a fish through a hole in the ice, beer beside him.

Ice fishing on the Cannon River near the Faribault Mill. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo February 2023)

Winter in Minnesota, if this would be a typical winter, finds anglers pulling fish houses onto lakes or sitting on overturned 5-gallon buckets to fish through holes drilled in the ice. But this has not been a usual winter here with temps (before this week) above normal and many lakes remaining open rather than frozen over. Several weeks ago, 122 anglers had to be rescued after ice broke away from the shore on Upper Red Lake in northern Minnesota. Following that, law enforcement officials restricted motorized vehicles from driving onto the lake until the ice consistently thickens to support motor vehicle traffic.

Ice fishing shacks are set up like a mini village on Lake Mazaska west of Faribault in Shieldsville. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I recognize this all sounds a bit odd to anyone unfamiliar with ice fishing. Vehicles, and we’re not talking just recreational vehicles, we’re talking mostly pick-up trucks, are driven onto the ice as anglers head for the hot fishing spots on our frozen lakes.

I myself engaged in the sport of ice fishing some 40 years ago, pre-children. Randy and I would sit inside his friend Jerry’s small ice shack warmed by a portable heater, play cards, drink beer and drop our lines into holes drilled through the ice. As the hours passed, we watched for our bobbers to tip in the frigid lake water, indicating a bite. I don’t remember catching many fish. But I recall the unsettling noise of cracking ice as Randy drove his Chevy pick-up truck across the icy lake and as we huddled inside the tight ice fishing hut.

The interior of an ice fishing house/camper, photographed several years ago at a sports show in Owatonna. Remove the lids and drop your line into the water on a frozen lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Much has changed through the decades. Fish houses have grown in size to almost mini cabins complete with kitchens and bunks to sleep overnight. This is a serious sport, big business in Minnesota. Of course, for those with more limited resources, tent-like pop-up portable fish houses remain an affordable option as does sitting on a cooler or a bucket under the winter sky.

A pop-up portable fish house at Pawn MN in downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I doubt I will ever return to ice fishing. It doesn’t appeal to me like it did those winters, oh, so long ago. And I don’t trust the ice like I did back in the day when I was younger, less prone to considering ice thickness and safety. I’ve lived enough Minnesota winters to believe the warning, “No ice is ever completely safe.”

Drilling a hole in the frozen Cannon River to fish near the Faribault Mill. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2023)

But I still celebrate ice fishing and its importance in Minnesota. It’s a favorite winter pastime/sport, especially for guys who seem intent on bonding over beers. It’s an important part of tradition and of our economy.

And, on this January evening, ice fishing is also an art form. I found it, here in The R Bar, the neon image of an ice fisherman glowing in this space of pool tables, tabletop shuffleboard, dart boards, high-top tables, a shiny wood-grain bar top, and a slim cooler holding Minnesota-made Grain Belt and other beer. This is winter in Minnesota, defined not by the light snow falling outside the bar, but by a neon symbol of fishing through a hole drilled in a frozen lake.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Onward into 2024 with morning walks, oatmeal & chocolate chips January 4, 2024

Raspberry chicken salad, one of the best salads I’ve eaten, at the Amboy Cottage Cafe, Amboy, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

FOR MANY OF US, these early January days prompt thoughts of embracing a healthier lifestyle. Eating better, exercising, losing weight, reducing stress and more top lists. But taking this from ideas to action requires determination and hard work.

If you live in a cold weather climate like me, getting motivated and active during the winter can prove challenging. Just the thought of bundling up to go outdoors makes me wish for warmer, sunnier days. This time of year, I’d rather snuggle under a fleece throw and read.

These as yet unused grippers will go over my snow boots to keep me safe on snowy and icy surfaces. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2024)

But I’m determined in 2024 to work harder at appreciating winter. I won’t be taking up downhill skiing or ice skating. But I am open to trying cross country skiing and snowshoeing decades out from my last attempt at either. I’ll leave ice fishing for the die-hard anglers. And I can certainly walk/hike, especially now that I have clamp-on Snow Trax with tungsten carbide spikes for gripping snowy and icy surfaces. I have not yet tested them to see if they actually work as promised. We’ve had only minimal snow and ice. Of one thing I’m certain. I can’t risk falling and breaking a bone. Not at my age, which is closing in on 70.

Inside the Shattuck-St. Mary’s soccer dome. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2023)

If I really want to play it safe and simultaneously stay warm, I can walk indoors. Shattuck-St. Mary’s, a private college prep school on Faribault’s east side, opens its dome to the public from 6:10 – 9:30 am weekdays for running and walking. Five loops around the soccer field perimeter equal about a mile, the distance Randy and I typically walk. It’s truly amazing that I can go this far given six months ago I could barely manage to walk a block due to the affects of long haul COVID.

The curving Straight River as photographed from the Straight River Trail, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2023)

On days when temps are not horribly cold and the wind is calm, I much prefer walking outside. There’s something about being outdoors, in nature, that is more relaxing, calming than in an indoor environment. I like the feel of sunshine on my face, even the crisp air, and the sight of twisting river and bare trees and a sometimes bold, blue sky. Last time walking at the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf campus, 10 deer stood statue still watching Randy and me as we stood statue still watching them. I felt such joy in seeing this wildlife in the heart of my community.

Pre-long haul COVID, I was lifting 12-pound weights. I’ve resumed lifting weights, but not 12 pounds yet. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2024)

Walking and weight lifting, along with taking Vitamin D and getting sufficient calcium in my diet, are ways I am improving my health, too, specifically my bone health. Dairy has always been an important part of my daily food in-take given I grew up on a dairy farm. I like lifting hand weights. I feel empowered and stronger. With a family history of osteoporosis, my own diagnosis, two past broken bones and my tall, thin frame, I take bone health seriously.

Then there’s diet beyond dairy. If one good thing came from developing long haul COVID in 2023, it was losing 25 pounds. Granted, I wouldn’t recommend this weight loss plan. But I’m happy to have a current body mass index of 20.7, which is on the lower end of my “normal” weight range.

Oatmeal laced with fruit is my typical breakfast. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)

I find I no longer crave sweets as much as I once did. With the kids long gone from home, I seldom bake. I eat a bowl of old-fashioned oatmeal with fresh fruit added nearly every morning and have done so for many years. It took several weeks of eating oatmeal for the grain to grow on me. In the back of my head, I remembered how much my father-in-law disliked oatmeal, so much so that he stuffed oatmeal into his pockets at Catholic boarding school. Not quite sure how he managed that as a young lad under the watchful eyes of the nuns.

Flamin’ Bleu pizza from Pizzeria 201 in Montgomery, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I try to eat smaller portions, avoid junk food and bread, and eat plenty of fruits and vegetables (which I love). Admittedly, I also love pizza, a grilled cheese sandwich, cheesecake, ice cream, etc. and don’t deny myself foods that aren’t necessarily “good” for me. It’s about portion control. Have a small scoop of ice cream, not several. On occasion, I’ve been known to devour a handful of dark chocolate chips when I’m craving chocolate.

Seldom do I dine out, for two reasons—cost and my inability to tolerate noisy environments due to sensory issues from long haul COVID. I’ve only eaten out a handful of times in the past year. Twice I left because I couldn’t manage the noise. While I appreciate restaurants, I recognize that such dining can lead to overeating and consuming calorie-laden foods because, who isn’t tempted by French fries?

Walking is one way to reduce stress. Many communities have trails, perfect for walking even in the winter. This photo was taken along the Straight River Trail near Fleckenstein Bluffs Park in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo February 2023)

Reducing stress is perhaps my biggest challenge. I tend to worry, to ruminate. And that is unhealthy. I’m getting better at letting go, at lessening demands on myself, on understanding that life never has been, and never will be, perfect.

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TELL ME: What do you do to stay healthy? What goals have you set for 2024?

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Faribo Frosty under construction December 7, 2023

Faribo Frosty, photographed on April 2, 2023, as spring approached. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2023)

THE LAST TIME I SAW Faribo Frosty, his smile was turned upside down in a frown. That was in April, when winter was winding down in southern Minnesota and Frosty’s demise was imminent.

The latest Faribo Frosty, photographed under construction on December 2, 2023. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2023)

Now some nine months later, the ginormous snowman is back, at least partially. Faribault homeowner Andy Hoisington is busy building the 2023-2024 Faribo Frosty in his front yard at the corner of First Street Northwest and Third Avenue Northwest in Faribault. Since 2005, the Hoisington family has crafted a massive snowman, their gift to the community and now a popular winter attraction for locals and out-of-towners, young and old alike.

Jake, left, and Andy Hoisington work on Faribo Frosty in January 2020. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo January 2020)

It’s truly a labor of love. Andy hauls trailer load after trailer load of shaved ice from the Faribault Ice Arena across town to construct the snowman. He scoops, waters, carries (up a ladder) and shapes the snow ice into the snowman which this year will stand nearly two stories tall. That’s taller than last year, when Frosty was shorter, more robust than some other years.

My then 2 1/2-year-old granddaughter hugging Faribo Frosty in 2018. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo December 2018)

Visitors are welcome to step into the Hoisingtons’ yard for photos and a closer look at Frosty, maybe even a hug.

Last year’s Faribo Frosty. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo December 2022)

Nothing, not even near 50-degree temps predicted today and tomorrow and a lack of natural snow, stop Andy in his mission to bring happiness and smiles. Faribo Frosty is his gift to us, and we are all the happier for this celebrity snowman in our community.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Dandelions in December December 4, 2023

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
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A patch of dandelions at the Rice County Fairgrounds. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2023)

IN THE DRY, CRACKED soil, among the curling leaves of autumn and the litter, dandelions bloomed, on a December morning in southern Minnesota.

Discovering them at the Rice County Fairgrounds was unexpected. Dandelions are the flower, or weed (depending on your perspective), of summer. Not near winter.

But here these hardy dandelions grew, flourishing on a brilliant sunshine-filled day of low 30-degree temps, seemingly unaffected by the cold. Only a short distance away, snow lingered on the pavement, in the dark shadows of buildings. Remnants of the season’s first snowfall remain throughout town.

Seasons seem to clash. Dandelions and snow. In the summer and winter of December.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling