MONDAY MYTHS
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MONDAY MYTHS
Check out the Herb Sampler on this Blog
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At our monthly Writing is Fun meetings we decide a prompt for writing for the next meeting. Length is set at 2 pages so we can read them at the meeting. There is quite a diversity of writing. Some are real life recollections, some fictional vignettes, and sometimes there's a poem. This is partially a real life recollection.
The prompt for June 2026: Transportation
The steel mill built a town with rental houses for the
workers; all the better to keep them close. When a house became vacant, the
next name on the waiting list was called. Tommy Smith was next.
For Tommy Smith, who did not live near the mill, this was
serendipitous as his old Studebaker’s ailments became too expensive to fix. It
was tiring- the daily chore of finding someone on the same work shift to hitch
a ride. And now, at his new home, he found his new form of transportation. On
the road in front of Tony Dudowski’s house was Tony’s new Ford and in the yard
there was his used bicycle with scabby rust spots, no front fender, and
stuffing squeezing out of the squeaky seat. For sale - $2.
Tommy fixed up his new ride, sanding out the rust, painting
the body a bright red, replacing the fender, taping up the seat, and adding a
front basket and rear rack. He couldn’t get the squeak out of the seat and was resigned to
ignore it. Ready to go to work.
His daily commutes became a kinetic time clock for the
neighborhood. At 6:15 a.m. he could be seen pedaling with heavy steel-toed
shoes on the tiny pedals, a domed, gray metal lunchbox, and dented thermos full
of hot coffee in the basket. On hot days there was an extra thermos with cold
water. This was the Day Turn work shift- 7 a.m. to 3 p.m. At nearly 4:30 he
could be seen sluggishly grinding the pedals, back hunched forward to the
handlebars. The effort of his up and down pedaling produced a small tempo from
the squeaky seat.
Then there was the 3 to 11 Shift. Few people saw him coming
home near midnight, the large, glaring headlight bobbing up and down as he
pedaled. And for Night Turn, when workers stepped in as 3 to 11 ended, it was the
little red rear light that danced as he headed into work.
In the small shed behind the house there was a bicycle
repair area. When opening the door, the smell of grease, oil, and cleaners
drifted out. With lots of care, he got quite a few years out of that ride.
When Ordell, his wife, brought home a Sears-Roebuck catalog,
a brand new bicycle model targeted at adults caught his eye. It had a larger,
more comfortable seat, a chain guard cover, bigger pedals, and a back shelf
over the rear fender. The dog-eared page was often checked until he finally saved
up enough money to buy one.
The now faded-red bicycle was handed down to young Tommy
Smith, age 12, ready to enjoy the freedom of exploration. He and his father repainted
it a bright blue, removed the front basket, but couldn’t get the squeak out of
the seat. Young Tommy was often found fixing a flat, oiling a chain, or carefully
taping the seat. He liked to ride with his friends around the neighborhood and
down the path along the creek, rolling his eyes as friends called out about his
squeaky seat. He also used it to earn money to buy a car. The bicycle took him
to the side of town where the managers and big shots of the mill lived with
lawns to mow and driveways snow to shovel. At age 16 he started working behind
the soda fountain at the G & G drugstore, still saving for that different
ride. Soon enough that well used and cared for bicycle was up for sale again. 
The price for the pale blue bicycle, still in fairly good condition, with a basket you could add on was now a whopping $10.
Who bought it? It was Carl.
Carl was the Umbrella Man
whose claim to fame was fixing broken umbrellas but he fixed a lot of other
things, too. He had no vehicle for transportation and had to hitch rides from
town to town or walk long distances carrying his heavy tools.
The bicycle was in good
condition and ready to work for him. After putting on the basket he fixed the
squeaky seat.
Perched on the seat, Carl came
around the small mill neighborhoods. Hanging from the front, the large basket
was filled with tools of one sort or another. Suspended from both sides of the
back shelf were two bulky leather saddlebags with large tarnished buckles. On
the shelf was a tall metal basket filled with a variety of things – sometimes a
jar of miscellaneous keys, a roll of rubber strips, a bundle of metal rods and
wooden dowels, or some unidentifiable objects.
It seemed that whenever he
was around for the week, boxes of broken items would appear on doorsteps or at
the end of a sidewalk.
Carl could be found sitting
on the ground, cross-legged fiddling with things from a box. You could see him
rifling through the objects in his baskets, grabbing a screwdriver, or
disappearing on his bike to bring back something that would let him fix whatever
he was working on.
Whether it was a repaired
doll chair, a restrung bow, or a small tin construction crane, he would leave
it on the doorstep and not ask for payment.
Often we would see a neighbor
running after him to offer payment. He did not refuse the offering.
In a town where the mill set the rhythm and the shifts ruled
the days; the bicycle became its own kind of witness. It carried a father to
work, a boy through halcyon days, and finally a tinker who believed nothing was
too small to mend. By the time Carl began pedaling it around the towns and
streets, the old bike had lived more lives than most people ever know.
In the end, the old bike showed that when something is cared
for, even the simplest, human‑powered machine can shoulder years of work,
wonder, and wandering.
Summer Watering Guide
for Franklin County Gardens
Franklin County enters Summer
2026 under a Drought Warning, and we need to consider our watering
practices. A Drought Warning means that water supplies are stressed and conservation
measures are needed to manage our limited resources. We are running behind
seasonal norms for rainfall and gardeners should expect soils to dry more
quickly and plants to show stress sooner than in an average year.
A garden drinks in many
different ways, and understanding those needs is the difference between plants
that merely survive and plants that truly flourish.
💧 Watering Basics for Flower Gardens, Vegetable Beds,
and Lawns
Healthy gardens depend on
steady, deep watering—just enough to keep roots growing downward, not so much
soil stays soggy. Most flowers and vegetables need about 1 inch of water per
week, whether it comes from rain or your hose. Lawns need roughly the same
amount, though cool‑season grasses can tolerate brief dry spells.
🌼 Flower & Vegetable Gardens
🌧️ Using a Rain Gauge
A simple rain gauge is one
of the most useful tools a gardener can own.
Soft, low‑pressure flow. Bubblers release water in a quiet, gurgling stream that won’t splash soil onto leaves or erode mulch.
A bubbler turns watering
into a calm, controlled process—especially helpful during dry spells when every
drop counts.
🌳 Don’t Forget the Trees
Trees—especially young or
newly planted ones—need special attention during low rainfall or drought.
Their roots extend well beyond the canopy, so watering only at the trunk
won’t help.
💡 KNOW HOW: Measuring How Much Water
If you’re watering with a
sprinkler, you can place a straight‑sided container, such as a coffee can,
within the spray pattern. The depth of water collected shows how much is
reaching the soil over a given period. This method helps you understand whether
your sprinkler is delivering enough moisture to penetrate the root zone.
To make sure your trees are
getting the right amount of water during dry periods, it helps to measure how
much you’re actually applying. One easy way is to check your hose’s flow rate
using a five‑gallon bucket. Set the hose in the bucket and time how long it
takes to fill. If it fills in five minutes, your hose is delivering about one
gallon per minute, which lets you estimate how long you need to run it to reach
your target volume for a deep soak.
Some gardeners prefer tools designed for slow, steady watering. Slow‑release watering bags and drip rings apply water gradually and directly to the root area, which is especially helpful for newly planted trees that need consistent moisture to establish.
As a general guideline,
newly planted trees benefit from about ten gallons of water per week applied
slowly enough to soak deeply. Larger, established trees may need more, and a
common rule of thumb is to provide roughly twenty gallons of water per inch of
trunk diameter measured at breast height. No matter the method, applying water
slowly helps it soak into the soil rather than running off, and a layer of
mulch around the base helps the soil retain moisture and keeps roots cooler
during hot weather.
☀️ IT'S THE GROWING SEASON 🌿
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At our monthly Writing is Fun meetings we decide a prompt for writing for the next meeting. Length is set at 2 pages so we can read them at the meeting. There is quite a diversity of writing. Some are real life recollections, some fictional vignettes, and sometimes there's a poem. This is a combination of real life and a bit of made-up story.
The prompt for April 2026 was "House."
I Write: The House That Wakes
Early
One morning, before “Betty Carol” tea consciousness, my at‑home workday started early. Working at home was never restful - looking at the computer and rifling through files drained energy. I stumbled through dim rooms, goosebumps on my arms, following a cool breeze to the office. At the doorway I paused, still half‑asleep. It was so quiet; and then I heard it.
ch REE ch REE ch REE
Alone in a quiet pocket of the approaching day, the notes were loud, crisp,
and as sweet as the taste of a fresh apple- repeating a call-and-response to
itself.
ch REE ch REE ch REE
A tiny bird perched on the birdhouse, singing into the
pre-dawn, blue-grey light. Later I learned it was a Carolina Wren—most likely a male, most certainly an
early riser.
For a moment I imagined the birdhouse near my bedroom window. It would be
the most pleasant way to start a day.
Spring arrived, and while working I began watching the
house where he sang. It sits atop a wooden pole; a host of yellow daffodils
huddled at its base. One day the wren pushed his head into the opening, tail
cocked upright, inspecting. Soon he and a partner began to build a nest,
carrying twigs, tufts of green moss, and thin strands of grass. Then, for days,
it was still.
Another early morning workday I heard the
song again. He sat perched on the tiny roof, flicking his tail as the song
bounced into the dawn air.
ch REE ch REE ch REE
I avoided my work, listening - ch REE ch REE ch REE - and watching as the day opened
gently – the dawning colors unfurling upward like opening flower petals- a
faint blue to pale yellow, a small drift of pink and peach clouds, orange that
burst into yellow as the sun crested the mountain. Then I started my workday.
As the day went on I saw the wren
coming and going, carrying small morsels in its beak, wings fluttering as it
dipped its head inside. A few days later both birds began to bring food back
home.
After dinner, just before the earth
turned to hide the sun behind Cove Mountain to the west, I walked through the
gardens. As I slowly approached the birdhouse I could hear faint, breathy
peeping — the tiny, uncertain voices of chicks only a day or two old. I knew
the parents fed them from sunrise to sunset, but never after. Mama wren would
fold her wings and settle in for the night, and Papa would settle in the maple
branches nearby.
I had begun to rise early each morning
to hear his morning song. The song seemed stronger, more confident, and
definitely louder, singing out like he owns the yard.
ch REE ch REE ch REE
During my workdays I would glance out
the window and see nature’s other entertainment. Squirrels rushed around, tails
flipping, digging in the garden bed. A chipmunk about to fill his cheeks with
bird seed. Morning walkers and joggers out early and a neighbor walking her
dog. Although the daffodils were gone they were replaced by bright orange
tulips.
And there was a day when the commotion
inside the nest was so loud I could hear it. A fluffy head peeked out of the
birdhouse, ducked forward, and brought a little round body with caramel colored
loose feathers up into the hole. It fell forward with small wings spread and
landed softly. With a slight waddle it moved behind a line of hostas at the
back of the garden. Three more fledglings followed it.
When I went for a fresh cup of tea, I
noticed I was more relaxed than when my workday started later. By moving the birdhouse
I would only gain a song—if I was awake for it. And I understood I would lose
something quieter: the slow unfurling of the seasons as the earth tilts toward
the sun. In Spring bringing up the daffodils and the wrens back to their little
house just as surely as it turns to lift the sun over the mountain each
morning.
* * * * *
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For many gardeners, the hope planted in past autumns
is now realized in the colorful show of spring blooms.
From the first pop of snowdrops to the fade of the
last flower, spring bulbs radiate dazzling whites, brilliant yellows, vibrant
reds, and lots of colors in between.
University of Illinois (https://web.extension.illinois.edu/gpe/case5/c5facts1.html) describes a bulb as "a promise of a plant to come. These 'packaged plants' each have a complete miniature plant inside along with its food." The bulb is a food storage unit and inside is a miniature plant complete with leaves, stem, and a small flower bud.
Like all perennials they need care and feeding. Here’s
what to do and when.
While blooming, mark their spot with a plant stake noting type and color. (Plant stakes are 10/$1 at the Dollar Store. https://www.dollartree.com/garden-collection-plastic-plant-labels-10ct-packs/213330). This will help when you later divide the flowerless bulbs.
Leave the green foliage.
It will send energy and nutrients below ground to the bulb. When the plant goes
dormant over winter, the bulb will continue to store the energy until spring
when warmer weather urges it to regrow and flower.
Once the foliage has
turned yellow or brown and died back, cut the plant down to 1”. If you need to
divide the bulbs, be sure to have them marked.
Penn
State Chester County Master Gardeners (https://extension.psu.edu/programs/master-gardener/counties/chester/how-to-gardening-brochures/bulbs-corms-rhizomes-and-tubers)
note that “signs that bulbs need to be divided are overcrowding, multiple
stems, and declining flowers.”
Spring flowering plants are best divided and replanted
in the fall. If you need to divide them in the spring, you may replant them
immediately or store them.
When digging to divide, be careful not to cut or
damage the bulb. Dig down and around to get a large clump. Gently brush or wash
off the soil to expose the small bulblets. Carefully remove the bulblets from
the mother plant, then replant them separately with the tips facing up. They
are small now but space them out saving the need to divide again in the next
year or two.
If you chose to divide the bulbs and store them
instead of replanting immediately, remove all the soil, lay them out
individually, discarding any damaged or diseased bulbs. Let them air dry away
from sunlight for several days then store in a net or mesh bag. Then store in a
mesh bag or some dry peat moss or vermiculite. Keep them in a ventilated in a cool,
dark spot and check periodically during the summer, to make sure they are not
rotting or drying out. Replant the following fall.
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