Join me for a little lunch. Or something. Sometimes.
Minnesotans understand a funnel cloud, a menacing sky, the gusts of wind that mean business.
The truth is out there about the jar of pickles on the side of the road near Des Peres, Missouri.
It’s the town that welcomes you with a smile, and a cinnamon roll at Charlie’s Cafe.
Residents of Fishers, Indiana resorted to signs to divert covert lawn poopers.
All families have secrets. As people get older or pass away, the secrets come to light. Like Grandma Lena’s.
Some things change, some stay the same.
I’d forgotten about hat hair.
Mannequins are freaky and sometimes disturbing. I see them everywhere and can’t help photographing them.
Meh to the stiletto.
When you have many children, it’s easy to forget one at Christmas. It hurts if you’re the forgotten one.
Lena and Mina were my grandmothers – Stearns County, Minnesota women who grew up and raised families in small towns around the Lake Wobegon Trail. Born in the USA, they spoke German and had German accents. As did my parents, who spoke only German until they went to school. As do some of my cousins, who have never lived anywhere but Stearns County. We’re quirky folks, like those in Garrison Keillor’s fictional Stearns town of Lake Wobegon. I’m Laurie Hilsgen, and if you’re reading this, you might be Wobegonian, too. Let’s celebrate our loony ways. Oh ja!
