|
Huber |
|
Funeral Home & Cremation Services 952-474-9595 |
|
Pediatric Rehabilitation Clinic. Occupational Therapy. Speech Therapy. 952-443-9888 |
|
Victoria’s Corner Bar. Nightly Specials and Menus. 952-443-9944 |
|
Buying or Selling Victoria? Call Nan Emmer. 612-702-2020 |
|
Weinzierl Jewelers |
|
8 First Street in Waconia. 952-442-2885 |
|
Preschool and Childcare in Victoria. Call 952-443-2121. |
|
MVT Excavating No job is too small. 952-446-9341 |
|
The Key |
|
The Key to advertisers in the Victoria Gazette. Located at www.VictoriaGazette.com. |
|
952-443-2808 |
|
Specialized assisted living for those with memory challenges. Victoria. 952-908-2215 |
|
Headlines and bylines |
|
Front Page Feature Story |
|
From the Editor |
|
Addie’s Drawing |
|
Letters to the Editor |
|
Victoria Moments |
|
Hook Line & Sinker |
|
Calendar of Events |
|
Click here to Advertise |
|
the Gazette |
|
Return to Home Page |
|
Order paper Gazette |
|
Notes and Quotes |
|
The Scoop at City Hall |
|
Home Page |
|
The Victoria GAZETTE |
|
It was a weekend outside of ordinary. We were on our way home to Victoria from a party and overnight in Danbury, Wisconsin, driving back into The Cities on Sunday morning, August 22nd. It was perfect timing to pick up a Mass somewhere on our way through. Shall we go to the looming Cathedral? Allan also drove past St. Andrew’s and then turned into the parking lot of St. Agnes. Attending a service away from home is always an event for us, no matter where or when we are visiting or vacationing. I’ve said for years that we learn more about a community from attending a church service than almost anything else. It’s like walking into someone’s home where you encounter the smells, colors, style, furniture, family photos, and general atmosphere. You encounter them, as well as God. It was hotter than Dante’s hell at St. Agnes since the ancient church isn’t equipped with air conditioning. But we sat still and occasionally felt a breeze from the oscillating fans stationed under the Stations. If we were uncomfortable in the heat and humidity, we knew it was much worse for the three priests and 18 altar boys up front -- all of them dressed in long layered garments -- as well as for the men’s choir chanting high in the loft in back of us. Heat rises, you know. The old Latin Mass transported me to the days of my childhood. They were good days, reverent days. After Mass we happened upon a large farmer’s market a couple blocks from the church and turned into the parking lot to check things out. I dare say we won’t find such a farmer’s market in Victoria or Excelsior or most other parts of this state or this nation. We were in an Hmong neighborhood and all the vendors were Hmong and much produce was not familiar to us. Several of the tables were piled high with what I would have called weeds. I surmised that fruits or vegetables may have been gleaned from them, and that the greens were about to be discarded. But why wouldn’t they put the leavings under the table rather than tied in neat bundles on top of the table? I asked one of the vendors about them. “They are the leaves of squash plants,” said the friendly man in accented English. “And they are for sale?” “Yes,” he said. “They are good in soup. You can also dip the blossoms in batter and deep fry them.” We found baskets of okra and white corn on the cob and buckets of tiny colorful peppers. There were also many items more common and familiar to us -- like pails of Roma tomatoes, cucumbers of all sizes, potatoes, onions, zucchini, garlic, eggplant, avocados, watermelon. For fun we purchased tomatoes, green onions, and white potatoes. Such basics don’t go to waste or waist, unless you add too much butter. Out of curiosity we also poked into the rather large grocery store next to this farmer’s market, and that place was filled with Asian products -- canned, bottled, or bagged. We purchased two large bottles of Sweet Chili Sauce which has come to be a staple in our home since we were first introduced to it several years ago by Kathy Kraemer. My friend Kathy, who sold ads for the Gazette for many years, turned for a while into a flight attendant who brought that sauce to us from her Asian travels. Anyhow, with no clouds in the sky and already over 90 degrees on this hot and humid Sunday morning, we walked back to our vehicle and turned the air conditioning up high to whisk away the beads of perspiration visible and invisible. The entire area of this farmer’s market and grocery store was chaotic with people walking in all directions and more cars looking for a place to park in the jammed quarters, so we sat a minute enjoying the air conditioning, and then “THUNK!” Allan was backing out of our parking space and hit a car that was politely passing behind us, putting a nice dent into their passenger door. For the next half hour I read the church bulletin in the air conditioned black Nissan Murano (didn’t get a scratch) while Allan and his new acquaintances exchanged numbers of phones, addresses, and insurance policies. When the neighborhood police offer showed up at high noon, he said that ours was the third fender bender that morning on that lot. By the way, back in Danbury we stayed at another casino hotel, a big fancy new, newly opened hotel where smoking was also allowed, just like at Devils Lake last month, but the air wasn’t as thick -- yet. It was brand spanking new, as I said. A few dollars here and a few dollars there, and that’s enough for us for another few years. Interesting, it is, that gamblers don’t need quarters and kool whip containers anymore. You simply slip the bills in the slot and count your credits. No black fingers. No counting. No arm exercises. No thinking. It was a weekend outside of ordinary -- what with our Cheesehead Friends, the Casino Hotel, the Latin Mass, the Hmong Market, and the Fender Bender. Only the heat rang an ordinary bell for us. |
|
September 2010 |
|
From the Editor |
