Join me for a little lunch. Or something. Sometimes.
None of it was perfect, but what is?
All families have secrets. As people get older or pass away, the secrets come to light. Like Grandma Lena’s.
We creatures of the earth shouldn’t eat each other’s lips. That’s my firm view.
Some things change, some stay the same.
We were always happy with pancakes straight from Mom’s pan, not too thick or too thin, drizzled with some homemade jam or jelly or sugar or maple syrup from the Piggly Wiggly.
We live in media-rich times, but streaming services don’t compare to summer nights at the 10-Hi.
Lois Thielen, the famous Minnesota baker, is making rhubarb crunch this week. With her recipe, we all can.
I’d forgotten about hat hair.
You inspired me to buy a sausage maker, which I never ever used. As if I would, without you.
When I left Stearns County to live in New Zealand, one of the things lost to me was cherry pie.
Clothing for all weathers is essential in Minnesota. Parkas, mittens, sweaters, boots. Plus boogers in the shoulder seasons.
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!
