Market Square, Harrisburg, Dauphin County

You all are amazing! When I updated last week, I said that the blog was about to reach 17,000 hits for the month. Well, apparently some of you took that as a challenge, because July ended with more than 18,000. (Think we can get 20,000 this month? Let's find out.)

As my Facebook followers may have seen, I took the leap and started an Instagram account for the blog. I have never used Insta before and I have practically no idea what I'm doing, but let's see how it goes. If you're on that app, please consider giving MQ a follow - you'll find it here. Not much there just yet but I'm trying.

For this week's quest, I realized it's been months since we talked about anything in Dauphin County, so I decided a look at Harrisburg's early days was in order. As you might expect, it looked very different than it does today.

Walter B. Tewksbury, Tunkhannock, Wyoming County

I want to open this week's quest log with a huge thank you, because once again, the blog has broken its record! In June I had more than 14,000 views, according to Blogger's metrics, and that was the all-time high. But as of this writing, I'm just shy of 17,000, which has me absolutely gobsmacked. So thank you to everyone who has liked and shared and commented on my posts over the years, because every little bit of interaction goes a long way!

Speaking of interaction, I've never used Instagram in my life. I don't entirely understand it, to be honest. But after speaking with one of my much-younger coworkers who has a better grasp of such things, she's helped me to see that it could be beneficial for the blog to have an Insta account and, thereby, an Insta following. So I've downloaded the app onto my phone (baby steps) and will be taking a few days to give myself a learning curve, and the plan is to debut the official MQ Instagram with the first August post. 

The trick, as always, is to pretend I know what I'm doing. 

Meanwhile, today we're going to make our first visit to scenic Wyoming County, where Kevin and I spent a little time during last week's trip. Shout out to the delightful Tioga Bistro in Tunkhannock, where we stopped for lunch - best grilled cheese sandwich I ever had that wasn't made by my mother. We also stopped on the grounds of the high school, to collect the marker for someone who didn't have to pretend he knew what he was doing. Well, maybe he did, I can't say for sure. But it got him all the way to some Olympic medals, so whether or not he faked it, he certainly made it.

Azilum, Multiple Communities, Bradford County

My husband and I spent two days chasing history in the Endless Mountains region of Pennsylvania, which is incredibly well named. We lost cell signal a number of times, which caused our GPS to be a bit unreliable, but we eventually found every place we intended to visit plus a few unexpected side quests. I know that not every man wants to spend his birthday driving around collecting historical facts and soaking up nature, but Kevin assures me that he had a great time. 

One of our intended destinations was the subject of this week's quest, and it's one that I'll admit that I was really looking forward to visiting. Ever since I knew this place existed - or, more accurately, used to exist - I've been extremely curious to see it for myself. Pennsylvania has plenty of historical sites that a lot of people don't even realize are there, and this is a perfect example. No one ever taught me in school that we used to have a house intended for Marie Antoinette.

Hereford Furnace, Hereford Township, Berks County

July's been very topsy-turvy for me, as you might have guessed from last week's post. This past week has been no different, as I've been occupied with what feels like everything under the sun, including but not limited to doctor's appointments and also seeing my late Aunt Gene's beloved cat off to his new home. He's living out west of here with my dear friends at Moon Family Studios, and the photos I've been receiving suggest that he's being absolutely spoiled. As he should be.

I've also been getting ready for a short trip for husband Kevin's birthday, which is next week. We're not going quite as far this year as we did a couple years ago, when we ventured out to Altoona to (try and fail to) ride Leap-the-Dips. Instead, I've been invited to the museum of the Sullivan County Historical Society, as they very much enjoyed my recent post about the Old Woolen Factory. Since nobody gets more excited about people paying attention to my blog than Kevin (no, not even me), he immediately suggested we make it a road trip for his birthday. So we'll be going there and we'll also be checking out the natural beauty at Penn's Cave, which is in that neck of the woods.

But first, a blog post. It's been a while since I did anything from Berks County, so I think it's time for a visit. I collected this one a while back and I sat on it in the hopes that I might be able to get a picture of whatever's left of the furnace, but apparently there isn't much to see. There's always history, though.

John F. Hartranft, Fagleysville, Montgomery County

I ended up skipping last week, and as my Facebook followers may have seen, I blamed it on the holiday. That was only partly the reason. It had more to do with the fact that my beloved great-aunt Gene, the last surviving sibling of either of my maternal grandparents, was in her final days. A true patriot who loved her country, she was born on Memorial Day and died on the Fourth of July, one hundred years old (plus a few weeks) and feisty to the end. She was also a great reader and fond of history, so while she didn't read this blog, she enjoyed my book about Laury's Island and loved to hear about my adventures when I would be out doing research for my posts. I visited her often and I already miss her.

I would have liked to tell her about my little adventure from this past weekend, when I collected the marker of today's post. I was able to get three in all, but they were actually a side quest for a change, because I was in Montgomery County for a completely different reason. Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, I attended Kutztown University, and during that time I was a member of the (now defunct) Medieval & Renaissance Club. It's been several years since I had seen most of them, literal decades in some cases, but on Sunday there was an enormous reunion party and that was what lured me down that way. It was a truly extraordinary gathering, and in some respects it was as though no time had passed at all. There was a universal agreement that we can't let so much time pass again, and I think we'll be holding reunions a few times a year going forward. Thanks, everyone, I don't think I realized how much I had missed the club until you were all in front of me like that.

But before the party got started, I picked up this marker about one of our governors. The location mentioned on the marker is a bit of a mystery, though, which is interesting.

Old Woolen Factory, Forksville, Sullivan County

Six years in and this blog manages to surprise me sometimes.

A few days ago I received an email from Jolene Dodge, who lives in Utah. She complimented my work here at MQ and sent the gift of a marker from a county I have yet to visit, so it was very exciting. She is a descendant of the gentleman mentioned in the marker text, so it's of particular interest to her. She's the reason that Sullivan County is making its debut on the blog this week, and once again, thank you, Jolene!

Tulpehocken Evangelical and Reformed Church, Richland, Lebanon County

How would you like to be able to pay your rent in flowers? 

'Red rose rent' is specified as being a type of "quit-rent," which is not a commonly used term nowadays. It has its roots in feudal Europe, in which a tenant either worked the land or provided military services for his liege lord (either the king or a lesser noble) in lieu of paying rent or taxes on the property he occupied. In essence, the quit-rent took the place of feudal services. The practice continued all the way into colonial America, where the quit-rent was more or less a kind of land tax. In the case of 'red rose rent,' though, it's a merely symbolic gesture, usually because the person creating the rental agreement was being generous for one reason or another. For the princely sum of one red rose every year, the renter continues to have the full use of a specified building or tract of land.

I don't think there are too many modern examples of 'red rose rent' being used anymore, the economy being what it is. But here in Pennsylvania, there are a number of historic locations which still pay homage to the tradition, and one of these is a church in Lebanon County.