Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Tossing the Christmas tree and welcoming spring May 6, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:46 AM
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The remains of our dried up Christmas tree, now properly disposed of at the local composting pile.

ON WEDNESDAY EVENING we tossed the Christmas tree which has been buried under snow for, oh, about six months. Well, not quite, but winter seemed to linger into half a year.

I’m serious. As recently as this morning, we had temps in the 30s and several days ago wisps of snowflakes whirled in the sky.

But enough of that. With the official disposal of the Christmas tree at the finally-opened Faribault Compost Site, I can declare that spring has finally arrived here in southeastern Minnesota.

You don’t have to simply take my word for it. Join me on this photographic tour of my yard, where spring has clearly, finally (I hope) ousted winter.

Hostas push through the soil, unfurling bright green leaves. Why does green always seem brighter in the spring?

Most of my tulips are clasped shut yet, waiting for more sun and more warmth.

A plump red tulip about to burst into bloom.

A yellow tulip edges ever closer to full blossom in the spring sunshine.

Unfurling wild raspberry leaves hold the promise of summer.

Dainty violets, so easy to overlook in the splendor of spring.

Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Time for Santa to return to the North Pole March 22, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:16 AM
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Apparently, the elf (or Santa) to the left of the door has turned his back on winter. I love this vintage style door, the inviting front porch, the look of this house. But, time to put away the Christmas decor and decorate for spring.

HERE IT IS, three months after Christmas and already three days into spring and many houses in my southeastern Minnesota community are still decorated for Christmas.

Drive through nearly any neighborhood and you’ll spot holiday lights sagging from roof lines, once-green evergreen wreaths and garlands aging to dried, brown perfection, and reindeer prancing on rooftops.

 

A wreath well past its prime decorates the front of a Faribault house along with a string of holiday lights.

I even saw a Christmas tree tossed onto a front porch. Ours is buried somewhere under a melting snow bank.

Santa and Mrs. Claus, perhaps finding our Minnesota winter remarkably like that at the North Pole, have been vacationing here since early December.

 

Time for Santa and Mrs. Claus to pack it up and leave Faribault.

Surprisingly Mary and Joseph have not retreated to the Holy Land either as I saw them in a front yard only blocks from my home.

So what gives here? I mean, doesn’t it seem ridiculous to you that Christmas decorations are still up in late March? It’s spring, for gosh sakes.

 

The wreath has fallen from the door onto the steps, but the holiday garland and ribbons remain in place.

But this year I expect the lengthy display of Christmas holiday cheer has more to do with the weather than laziness on the part of Faribault residents. Because of the heavy snowfall we’ve had this season, residents couldn’t get to their Santas and Holy families and reindeer herds that were buried in deep, deep snow.

Who wants to trudge through thigh-high snow in sub-zero temps to rescue Santa after blowing or shoveling out the driveway, sidewalk and car more times than you can remember? It’s easier just to leave all of the holiday decorations until the snow melts and temperatures reach a comfortable level.

Well, Faribault residents, with the snow disappearing and temperatures rising into the 40s, now would be the time to muck your way across the lawn, pluck Santa from the ground and stow him away until November.

For those of you tempted to leave your Christmas lights on your house year-round, I have one word for you. Don’t.

 

And just when I thought I had seen everything, I came across this Faribault home, where Christmas lights still ring a tree trunk, flowers "bloom" in a window box and snow covers the ground. Oh, and if you look closely, you'll see Christmas bulbs strung inside, along the windows.

Now, time to fess up. On Saturday, the day before spring started, I removed this holiday decoration from my back door.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Take this snow and shove (shovel) it March 20, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:23 PM
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ON THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING in Minnesota, my true love gave to me…chicken on the grill.

But, before he could cook the chicken, he shoveled 2 ½ feet of snow from the patio to access the Weber. That would be the grill which, until yesterday, lay tipped on its side, having toppled off a melting snow mountain.

After shoveling his way to the grill, he fired it up.

But, as anyone knows, even in winter-spring, a man cannot grill without beer. So my true love chiseled a bottle of Nordeast into an icy snow bank to reach icy perfection. By the time I photographed the chilling beer, the bottle was nearly empty.

Later he iced a bottle of Grain Belt Premium.

And so on the first day of spring in Minnesota, I did not get five golden rings or a partridge in a pear tree. Yes, I am well aware that I am referencing The Twelve Days of Christmas here. But with all the snow still remaining in our northern state, December 25 seems like yesterday.

Rather, on this fine spring day (if you call 40-plus degree temps, rain and thunder in the morning, and snow-blotched lawns and boulevards “fine”), I got chicken, and potatoes, on the grill.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The promise of spring in a seed packet

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:29 AM
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A few of the flower seed packets I have stashed away for the upcoming gardening season.

WHEN MY FRIEND MANDY offered me a pick of flower seed packets recently, I snatched up the cosmos. Next to zinnias, they are my favorite flower to grow from seed.

The simple sight of photographed blooms on a seed package lifted my spirits on a night when snow was falling. Again.

It has been an incredibly long winter here in Minnesota with more snow than I can recall in years. Thus, the possibility of spring seems as unlikely as state high school basketball tournaments without a blizzard.

But for now, a gardener can dream of cupping tiny seeds in her palm and scattering them upon soil that holds the promise of summer. She can dream of snipping stems, of gathering colorful blooms into beautiful, bountiful bouquets.

I WROTE THIS POST 10 days ago and simply didn’t get around to publishing it until today, the first day of spring. This morning, while in church, I heard the boom of thunder. It is raining here, with a brisk wind.

Snow mountains are melting. Wide swatches of muddied grass lie exposed to the elements, a welcome sight after this long and weary winter. But then again, snow is forecast for later this week, as tips of tulip plants push through the soil. This is Minnesota, after all, and we are never quite certain when spring will officially arrive. We mark the season by the arrival of warmth and bared grass and emerging flowers, not by a day on the calendar.

 

A bouquet of wildflowers plucked from a public garden (not by me) in Fulda, Minnesota, last summer.

Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Part I: Tina’s story, surviving the Hammond, Minnesota, flood March 13, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:36 AM
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EDITOR’S NOTE: With the heavy snowfall in Minnesota this winter, residents are eying our state’s rivers, watchful and concerned about spring flooding that is all but imminent. Some forecasters are predicting the worst flooding in 35 years. With that in mind, I bring you the first in a series of posts about one family displaced last September by a flash flood in southeastern Minnesota. Read what it’s like to live through such a natural disaster and ponder what may lie ahead for many other Minnesotans.

I HAVE NEVER MET Tina Marlowe of Hammond.

But I can tell you this strong woman impresses me with her resilience and positive attitude.

Tina and her family survived the September 2010 flash flood that ravaged their southeastern Minnesota community, displacing nearly all 230 residents. In January I e-mailed Tina, a good friend of Katie Shones of Hammond whom I’d met two weeks after the flood. I expected a brief response from Tina. I got, instead, a 4 ½-page e-mail that brought me to tears.

I promised Tina then that I would share her story because it needs to be heard. She speaks with a strong voice, edged with raw, honest emotion. She speaks from the heart and with the soul of someone who will not allow this setback, this destruction of her home and upheaval in her life, to get her down.

And so we begin Tina’s story, some of it condensed, other parts unedited. I’ll bring her story to you in installments. Ponder her words. Consider how you would handle what Tina has been through in the past five months. And then, if you are moved to action, do what you can to help the residents of Hammond and nearby Zumbro Falls, who are still reeling financially and emotionally from the devastating floods of September 2010.

 

The river bank is to the left of the garage in the very left of this photo. The 100-plus-year-old former Hammond House Hotel on the right saw floodwaters reach the ceiling on the first floor. Its owners had never seen the river so high. They are not returning to their home. This photo was taken at 7:30 a.m. on Friday, September 24, 2010, by Hammond resident Susie Buck.

THE BACKGROUND: TINA’S HOME

Two years ago, as the economy worsened, Tina and her fiancé, Micheal Mann, and two children moved to Hammond, into the home of Mike’s parents, Bob and Cathy Mann. In the spirit of “taking care of family,” Tina says they could survive more comfortably if they lived together. So they have, in an early 1900s house which the elder Manns have called home for three decades. They finished remodeling and updating just two years ago. The house sits in the 500-year flood plain along First Street, the second street west of the Zumbro River bridge on one of the highest elevations on the “low” side of Hammond.

Their house should have been “safe” from floodwaters, even more so because it is elevated three feet above the ground.

However, the basement was engulfed in water and the main level was flooded with 3 – 4 inches of water rushing in from the Zumbro River.

The family was displaced for three months and moved back home shortly after Christmas.

 

A view of Bridge Street (Wabasha County Road 6) taken from County Road 11 that runs through Hammond at 7:30 a.m. Friday, September 24, 2010. Photographer Susie Buck once lived with her family in the white house on the right when they moved to Hammond on September 24, 1961. In the spring of 1962, the family had to move from their rental home due to flooding. Susie was only two years old at the time. She heard stories from her parents about the water level rising in the basement as they were trying to remove the water heater. In the September 2010 flood, the water rose well above the windows on the main floor.

THE EVACUATION

Tina and her family got orders on Friday, September 24, Micheal’s birthday, to leave their home due to the rising floodwaters.

Here’s their evacuation story, in Tina’s words, beginning with events on Thursday, September 23:

“Although Bob (Mann) told me he has seen the river this high before and was reassuring me that it would crest soon and we would not see any flood water, I was starting to have my doubts.

I went home and cooked dinner. After dinner we walked down to the bridge to check the river and our friend’s land on Bridge Street was starting to flood, which wasn’t too unusual. But, by 11 p.m. the water was rising faster—rather than receding—and finally some sandbags and the Elgin Fire Department showed up.

Mike and I helped with sandbagging until about 1 a.m. At that point I had been awake for nearly 30 hours. Mike looked at me and said, ‘I’m tired and you’re tired, we have to go get some sleep. We may have a long day tomorrow.’

 

A view of the raging Zumbro River, looking from the west side of Hammond to the east at 7:30 a.m. on Friday, September 24, 2010. Floodwaters eventually destroyed the gravel road on the east side of the river and flooded homes and businesses. The canoe landing on the east side is also totally engulfed in floodwaters. Photo by Hammond resident Susie Buck.

 

 

Logs jammed against the bridge in Hammond. Water completely covered the bridge during the flood. Photo by Jenny Hoffman.

When we got to the bridge on Friday morning, the water was hitting the rafters under the bridge and whole trees where coming down the river, crashing into the bridge. It was terrifying to feel our bridge shake beneath our feet. We could not get down to the bar or cross town. The river had sliced right through Hammond, dividing us into east and west.

We could tell by the rage of the river that it was not finished yet and Mike and I decided to get home and run to Rochester to get supplies for the day ‘before we can’t get out of here at all.’ As we were walking home, the flood water was literally following us up Main Street right to our house.

As we rounded the corner of our house the fire department met us at the front door informing us of the mandatory evacuation and we were advised that we had 15 minutes to move our vehicles to high ground, grab essentials and pets, and get out before the water trapped us.

We did that, and rescued our neighbor who was still sleeping, exhausted from sandbagging all night. We drove my 4WD Jeep through over three feet of water. In that jeep we had five adults, two children, one full-grown rottweiler, two cats, some clothes for each of us, and a white wedding dress. We left one cat behind (we couldn’t catch him in time) and a fish, and we had no idea when we would be back. Happy Birthday Mike…”

CHECK BACK FOR FUTURE installments as Tina tells how her family and community were affected by the flood and where they’re at today.

Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Tasteless strawberries and wilting lettuce March 10, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:51 AM
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I LOVE FRUITS AND VEGETABLES.

But I don’t always love the quality of the fruits and vegetables I find in the grocery store. In my opinion, they are often sub-par.

Because I live in Minnesota, I am not all that educated about fresh fruits and vegetables. Our cold climate and short growing season limit our native selections. We rely on “imports” from Florida and California and other much warmer places.

That said, I have no idea when growers pick oranges or strawberries or fill in the blank here. How mature, or immature, is the fruit?

Are oranges, like bananas, harvested when they are green? How about strawberries? Muskmelon? Is all fruit plucked before it’s ripened?

I raise that question because I bought a pound of Florida strawberries the other day that looked oddly, unnaturally overripe. Yet, I didn’t see any telltale mold. My husband theorized that they were “picked green and gassed.”

Is fruit really “gassed,” and what does that mean?

 

A few of the Florida strawberries from the pound I purchased.

The strawberries were rather tasteless, but added a jolt of color to my lettuce salad. If you live in Minnesota or any other cold climate, you’ll understand the need for a jolt of color this time of year. (It’s been a long, cold and snowy winter.)

That brings me to the lettuce. I doled out $2.99 for a bunch of Romaine lettuce at the same time I bought the strawberries. Normally I would pass on Romaine priced so exorbitantly high or even consider substituting iceberg lettuce (which I quit buying years ago because I prefer whole wheat to Wonder bread).

I was willing, though, to pay the $3. I wanted, needed, a Romaine salad. Unfortunately, the selection was not good. Small bunches. Wilted leaves and leaves edged with black. I chose the best and hoped I wasn’t throwing away my money.

 

I had already peeled off several layers of lettuce leaves before I took this photo. What are those brownish spots?

Well, I threw away about three salads worth of lettuce as I peeled off the layers of leaves to reveal what I term “rust.” I have no idea what the brown spots are inside lettuce leaves, nor do I know why leaves are sometimes tipped with black. I just know that I can’t eat it.

This frustrates me.

How many times have you purchased bad lettuce or fresh fruit that ends up in the garbage? I bet you’ve all tasted “baseball” hard peaches or pears and nectarines that never ripen and are as crunchy and dry as cardboard. One bite and in the trash they go.

So why are fruits and vegetables like this?

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS on the quality of today’s fresh fruits and vegetables? I’d like to hear your insights and your experiences.

 

Sliced strawberries, cucumbers and Amablu Gorgonzola cheese added to Romaine lettuce made a perfect salad. I topped the salad with lemon poppyseed dressing.

FYI: Amablu Gorgonzola cheese is made at Faribault Dairy in Faribault, Minnesota, where it is aged in sandstone caves along the Straight River. This is home to America’s first blue cheese plant, dating back to 1936. The award-winning cheeses produced in my community are among my favorite cheeses.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A glimpse of winter on the Minnesota prairie March 8, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:06 AM
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Traveling U.S. Highway 14 west of New Ulm to southwestern Minnesota.

I NEEDED A TRIP to southwestern Minnesota this past weekend, as much to be with extended family as to reconnect with the land where I grew up. I was not disappointed, on both counts.

I embraced the family I love as we talked and laughed and talked and laughed some more while celebrating my middle brother’s 50th birthday until just past midnight on Saturday.

Sometime in between, we joked about the possibility of being snowed in on his Redwood County acreage. Snow was in the forecast and we all know that snow on the prairie, combined with wind, could strand us.

By the time we finished breakfast mid-morning on Sunday, the flakes were flying and U.S. Highway 14 was dusted with snow, enough to cause cautionary travel as my husband, son and I headed east back to our Faribault home.

Fortunately, we drove out of the snow even before reaching New Ulm.

Every time I visit the prairie, I realize all over again how harsh winters are out there and how very different they are from the winters I experience in southeastern Minnesota. Honestly, if you saw the drifts and plowed ridges of snow along Highway 14 and the endless vista of wide open spaces that stretch like a sea of white, you would understand.

Join me on this visual journey along a section of the Laura Ingalls Wilder Historic Highway between New Ulm and Lamberton. These photos don’t even do justice to winters on the prairie because we weren’t traveling in a prairie blizzard. But, in these images, you can envision the possibilities…

 

Railroad tracks run parallel to Highway 14 as the land stretches under spacious skies.

In some spots along U.S. Highway 14, the snow is piled higher than vehicles.

Snow had been pushed into rows in fields along Highway 14, acting as natural snow fences.

The wind sculpted drifts along the snow fences.

The snow had been pushed into mountains so high that only the top portion of Family Foods was visible from Highway 14 on the eastern side of Sleepy Eye.

Snow pushed off Highway 14, as seen through the windshield of our car.

Visibility was reduced as we traveled along U.S. Highway 14 Sunday morning near Lamberton, creating this surreal image of the local grain elevators. The top seven images were taken on Saturday.

We were thankful the lights on this sign, on the east side of Springfield, were not flashing Sunday morning. During severe winter weather these lights are activated and roads are closed to keep motorists safe.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

These Minnesota Girl Scouts are tough cookies March 6, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 4:31 PM
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I’VE HAD GIRL SCOUTS knock on my door to sell Girl Scout cookies.

I’ve had Girl Scouts approach me at church to sell cookies.

I’ve seen Girl Scouts selling cookies at the grocery store and at the mall.

But…, until this weekend I’d never seen Girl Scouts bundled in caps, coats, snowpants, mittens and boots selling Girl Scout cookies outside a Minnesota gas station as temperatures hovered around 30 degrees. And that’s without the windchill.

I wasn't sure what the group was selling until we got right up to the gas station. I was ready with my camera.

As my family drove through the small southern Minnesota town of Courtland around noon today, these Nicollet Girl Scouts and their moms were peddling cookies at the Shell station along U.S. Highway 14. FYI, Courtland lies west of Nicollet, which lies west of Mankato.

I have to give these girls and their moms credit for their devotion to the cause. I doubt I would have stood out there in brisk March winds selling sweet treats. These Girl Scouts are some tough cookies.

And, no, I’m ashamed to say that we did not stop. I snapped these images as we passed by. But, clearly, the Girl Scout in the second photo wanted me to stop.

Girls and their moms peddled Girl Scout cookies in Courtland.

After I uploaded the photos into my computer, I noticed the smaller sign on the box on the back of the pickup truck: “Buy cookies and donate them to our military troops!! We do the shipping for you!!” That would have been one more good reason to stop.

To the Nicollet Girl Scouts, I admire your patriotism and your determination. Clearly you’re not going to let a Minnesota winter keep you from reaching your goals.

Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

 

 

 

 

Dreaming of sunrises, tangerines and carrot stix February 26, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 11:20 PM
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I WAS LOOKING at paint swatches today while my husband was searching for a toilet bowl gasket at the hardware store.

It seemed like the right thing to do. Crap or color. (I can’t believe I wrote that.) Give me the color.

For some reason, I’ve had bright orange on the brain. I’ve been contemplating adding a jolt of color to my bathroom. Orange towels would do the trick.

I've been fixated with orange lately, like the orange in this poppy I photographed in my neighbor's yard, long, long ago, during the summertime, long, long ago in Minnesota.

But there’s one teeny, tiny problem. My husband, the one who was looking in the, well you know, section of the hardware store while I was ogling the paint, says the towels are just fine.

I suppose they are. They are not threadbare. But I am ready for a change. I need an infusion of brilliant color in my bathroom. Yellow. Orange. Anything but the sage and green that have hung on the towel racks for too many years.

However, because we’ve spent (and are still spending) a lot of money on a major home improvement project, I’ll appease him and hold off on the towel purchase.

But a girl can dream in the meantime. While he searched for that toilet bowl gasket, I admired the sunrise, tangerines and the carrot stix. And then I asked the paint expert at the hardware store if anyone ever buys orange paint.

Orange. Orange. Orange. I can't stop thinking about orange.

“For a kid’s room” she said.

Then I explained my recent fixation with orange, my desire to brighten my bathroom.

She figured this might have something to do with the long, cold and snowy Minnesota winter.

I didn’t disagree.

TODAY MY HUSBAND and I repainted our bathroom in “Popular Gray” by Sherwin Williams. I figure my orange towels will really pop against that gray.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A snow day in Faribault February 21, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:07 AM
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“YOU DIDN’T BELIEVE ME. Give me a high five.”

That’s how the 17-year-old reacted at 7:07 this morning after learning that Faribault schools are closed today because of a snow day.

I wish I had been the one to deliver the good news to him, to a boy who typically lingers in bed until he risks being late for school, which he was one day recently, on a Thursday “late start” day of all days.

But this morning my son heard the “no school” news from his dad, who is currently blowing the eight or nine or 10 inches of snow from ours and our neighbor’s driveways.

Upstairs, the teen is likely back in dreamland and I’ve had a pleasant start to my morning with no snarling, no crabbing, no frowns or grumpy face.

Ah, yes, I love snow days.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling