Join me for a little lunch. Or something. Sometimes.
We pay good money to watch horror movies, when all we have to do is step outside.
It’s a word used across the United States and even internationally, but maybe not as comprehensively as in Stearns County, Minnesota.
A flowering crabapple tree is a sight to behold.
Back then, I didn’t know I would have my first and only child at 40 and call her Lily.
She was trying not to judge, but her voice gave her away. Sister Paulette Laufer hated my bright blue eyeshadow.
Waiting for someone to die gives you time to think.
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!
