Join me for a little lunch. Or something. Sometimes.
Rediscovering small town Minnesota.
May 27 is a good day to spend at cemeteries, tidying the graves of veterans and other loved ones, and sharing family stories.
It’s not easy to find a fairy cross rock.
We listened to the rustle of grasses, the leaves in the trees, the distant traffic. But after a few days I realised there was no birdsong.
May we cherish those we love, and remember those with whom we’ve shared happy winter times.
It’s Halloween, with snow falling in Stearns County. Almost All Soul’s Day. Time for a ghost story. A true story, which I retell more than half a century later.
It’s the town that welcomes you with a smile, and a cinnamon roll at Charlie’s Cafe.
Lake Osakis wore a black veil of birdlife – a coating of coots.
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.
Let in, let out, let go, let be.
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!
