Pilots, who know how tricky weather can be, didn't say much, but boy, are the gardeners getting on me about my week-end weather prediction. And I love it, for that's half the fun of out-guessing Mother Nature.
The only thing wrong with an attempt at five-day forecasting, made last Friday, was the well-developed thundershowers Saturday night which were supposed to give those gardeners a half-inch of rain. It didn't develop, and darned if I know what happened to them.
Now the dope for Monday and Tuesday is 80 to 85 degrees all day Monday, with high humidity that makes you "hot under the collar," and just partly cloudy. Tuesday quite cloudy with cooler temperatures and scattered showers of the kind that might wet your neighbors' fields and never touch yours.
Now, here is the catch. If that unsettled Tuesday weather is caused by a mass of cooler air from the northwest, Wednesday should be nice again and comfortable. Low temperature by Monday night, 60 degrees.
Mrs. Forest Kesler, whose name was Goldie Teel back about the time my mother was a girl in Mentone, lives on a farm just west and slightly north of Mentone now. She writes Sky Writing a dandy letter and tweaks my nose slightly about the weather. She is most justified too!
"Dear Mr. Mollenhour: While I have not been up in a plane lately, I can qualify as a gardener interested in weather. I am ready to agree with your weather predictions, except that I would plan to cover my tomato plants by Monday night. We enjoy your column so much. Some day, maybe, I should like to have you fly me to Cuba. Best wishes, Goldie Kesler."
That calls for two comments. The same thing happened to you that happened to me, Mrs. Kesler. The cooler air has been delayed. By all means cover your tomatoes Monday night, but cover them twice as well Tuesday night. (Maybe and perhaps.)
As to that trip to Cuba, you just say the word and get my boss to agree and darned if we won't go. I think Forrest and my red-headed wife would like the Cuba part, but I bet they'd go by train and boat and meet us there, don't you? We'll take the high road and they can take the low road ---and we'll be there before 'em. (We can dream, can't we?)
You know, folks, every weekend everyone I meet says: "Where we going to fly to Sunday? We enjoy those aerial trips." Well, I enjoy them too, but the bank account will only stand a limited number of them. So this week, we stayed close to home---and home is just as beautiful as any other place I know.
Jack Mowrey and I washed the airplane, gave it its spring bath Sunday. The Jack wanted to take some photos of Warsaw. So we circled over town, took a short jaunt over the lakes northeast and back. Trees are beginning to look green again and life and color is coming back to our fields and farmlands. You not only see it from the air, you feel it!
The lakes are getting that bright summer blue color, reflecting the glory of these summer-like skies. I believe every cottage owner in the county was cleaning up for summer Sunday. The landscape was dotted with soft-pastel mushrooms of smoke, twisting up and away from invisible workers on the ground.
I wish every little town had a nearby landing strip, so we could drop in on all of them. It doesn't take much ground for a strip, you know. A little piece of land 75 to 100 feet wide and about 1,000 to 2,000 feet long (depending upon how high the obstructions off either end) would be sufficient. Should be located alongside some highway---and just let the grass grown on it. Mark it with white-washed stone: "Mentone---Burket---Leesburg---Webster---or any other name--- and your town would be connected to every place in the world by air. It's a thought for Lions Clubs to work on.
Don't forget, we can get you bright yellow paint absolutely free, to paint the name of your town on a rooftop whether you have a landing field or not. Want some?
Warsaw Daily Times, Monday April 26, 1948