Nona: Can you think of anything we can do to give tourism in Lublin a shot in the arm? Cripes, the downtown area is starting to remind me of Ogema.

Ed from Eidsvold Dear Ed: I don’t know if you can remember this, but back in the day, Lublin was a haven for tourists. Problem is, the people sent them packing. Geez, many a Saturday, Loch Lublin was edge-toedge with boaters, and its beaches were full of beautiful people. Now, the lake is full of algae, and there’s only that weird old guy who sunbathes in a Speedo down there everyday.

It used to be that all the important types and socialites were there. We had the Kennedys' lawn boys. Faye Raye’s cousin spent a summer there. One of Bobby Vinton’s old band members' cousin was there. Even a guy who looked like one of the guys from Hee Haw, I get them mixed up, so I can’t name him right now. He had real big teeth, and he drank his coffee with 14 sugars and a dash of grain alcohol.

Then, it started drawing the Gilman upper crust, and some of the men folk got a little jealous.

I remember when Weasel Smith was mayor, he signed a decree banishing “those blasted out-of-towners.” And he was just referring to the guys from Gilman, who were marrying away the Lublin women at an alarming pace. They would swoop into town with their storebought clothes and hair cut with a bowl and sweep the Lublin gals off their feet. They stumbled onto the big Gilman secret: Taylor County girls are crazy about bowl cuts. After Weasel made his decree, the local barber, Chopper Ciolkowski, was sent to The Big City on a fact-finding mission on how to give the perfect bowl cut. He vanished for months, and downtown Lublin was starting to look like a hippy hangout, with all the guys sporting their long hair. The fella at the implement store started lopping hair off with a piece of farming equipment, but it didn’t quite cut so even. Once or twice, it even claimed an ear…but that’s another story.

Chopper returned to town after three months, with a whiz-bang of a bowl cut and a French accent. We never figured out the French part, but the man could cut hair. Pretty soon, the Lublin boys had one up on the Gilman guys. Not only did they have slick haircuts, but they learned a little French from Chopper while they were in the chair. He would teach them some phrases, and a couple months later, Lublin sent a team of guys to the big Gilman barn dance to try their luck. They recited it over and over all night, “Vous êtes un très grand femme. Pouvez-vous traire une vache?” The women were going crazy, and all four of them had dates for the big festival.

Chopper stood back and chuckled, for he was the only one in Taylor County who knew what they were saying was actually, “You are a very large woman. Can you milk a cow?”

Cinnamon Raisin Bread Ingredients

sauce pan on the stove until it just starts to bubble, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat. Let cool until lukewarm, about 120-125 degrees.

Dissolve yeast in warm water and set aside until yeast is frothy, about 10 minutes or so (make sure your water is at the correct temperature or the yeast won't activate.) Then mix in eggs, sugar, butter salt and raisins (stir in the cooled milk slowly so you don't cook the eggs.) Add the flour gradually to make a stiff dough.

Knead the dough on a lightly floured surface for a few minutes until smooth.

Place in a large, buttered, mixing bowl and turn to grease the surface of the dough.

Cover with a warm, damp cloth and let rise (I like to let my bread rise in the oven with the light on. It has just the right amount of heat and keeps the bread out of drafts.) Allow to rise until doubled, usually about 1 1/2 hours.

Roll out on a lightly floured surface into a large rectangle 1/2 inch thick.

Moisten the dough with 2 tablespoons milk and rub all over the dough with your hands.

Mix together 1 cup of sugar and 3 tablespoons cinnamon and sprinkle mixture evenly on top of the moistened Roll up tightly (the long way).

The roll should be about 3 inches in diameter.

Cut into thirds, and tuck under ends and pinch bottom together.

Place loaves into well greased (you can use Crisco or butter for this) 9 x 5 inch pans and lightly grease tops of loaves.

Let rise in warm place, uncovered, again for about an hour.

Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes or until loaves are lightly browned and sound hollow when tapped.

Remove from oven and let cool on rack.

Take melted butter and spread over tops of loaves. After about 20 minutes, lay loaves on their sides and remove

Allow to cool before slicing.