Hot

Can anyone imagine what it must be like to be a soldier in a desert or any other hot place? I know—the soldiers sign up for this stuff. In fact, our neighbor’s oldest son thought it was the neatest thing in the world to be turned loose with a rifle and all the ammunition he could use. He made it back alive, but I don’t think they have any deer left in Iraq.

One of my husband’s friends came by tonight. I KNOW he is not a Native American Indian, but the guy is so sunburned and brown that all he needs is a bow and arrow. The war paint would probably be Caterpillar yellow if he wore any. He is a diesel mechanic who owns his own business. And his field truck does not have any air conditioning except a 255—or maybe that is a 455 since his truck has four windows and he drives about 55 miles per hour. His wife has even developed a beautiful tan by going with him and handing him tools or running the hoist in that heat.

Last summer I saw a man welding on top of a big metal platform out in the heat. Somehow they had rigged a shade for him by putting plywood sheets in a frame above him, but cutting, welding, and summer time heat would just be about enough to fry someone. In that man’s case, I can see him being dehydrated or baked even in his makeshift shaded place. Shaking head . . .

Down in the Gulf a storm in brewing. Each year I worry about those folks and their hurricanes. But truth be told, those hurricanes are the only source of relief for this bodacious heat. We get rain when they get flooded. We get cool breezes when they get blown all over South Texas and right up into Louisiana. It may not be fair, but that’s just how it is.

If the scientists could ever figure out how to lead those hurricanes around like beasts being herded around a cage, we could send one over to the Gulf near Iraq. Then maybe our soldiers could have a nice breeze and a break in the heat. Until then, we certainly have a good training area right here in Texas for the conditions over there. Sand, heat, wind! Again Texas has its good points.