I was very careful when it rained earlier this summer never to complain. It was too much at times, but I have never forgotten what Texas summers are like. Seven summers ago, a week before I started my freshmen experience at the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M, my brother decided I was to help him paint a fence—a very long wooden fence—at a ranch west of Houston. My brother’s endurance comes from a hidden well deep down inside of him, and it is most evidenced through painting jobs that occur during the hottest times of the year. That week in August must have been one of the worst, but it prepared me for the next week of orientation at the military program. Over the past seven years of having no escape from Texas August heat, I have decided that I would never complain about Texas summer rains, find a way to complete all of my tasks in the morning and evenings, and work towards the goal of one day not having to be here at all. I am still here, working during the middle of the day outside, and there is no rain in sight.

There is however, still moisture in the ground from all of the previous rains, which is why some of our elephant ears are doing so well. We also have Crinum bulbs that continue to bloom, and this unknown pink variety has been sending up blooms throughout the summer. It has a nice fragrance.

After the guineas flew the coop three more times, I decided that they were ready for the great outdoors. They come back in the evenings and roost in the pole barn, while scavenging the field during the day for grasshoppers, ticks, and every other poor insect that gets in their way. We are at 10 now. It broke my heart to have to remove another one from the cage a few days ago. I don’t know where the third one is that is lost. I heard him calling for his friends the first time they flew away. All of them were collected but him. I sat silent in the field for quite awhile, hoping he would chirp again so I could find him, but I went in when the sun went down, and he bedded down in the tall grass. I’m afraid the dew the next morning did him in.

The field is harvested and plowed, and it’s almost time to begin planting all over again! This morning the sun had a nice effect as it peaked from behind the giant red oak on the other side of the field.

I mentioned the Corps of Cadets for another reason. I completed that terrible week in August, and spent 4 more years with the cadets in my outfit through college. My junior year as first sergeant, I had the rewarding experience of working with the young group of freshmen coming into the outfit. Every morning for a year we worked together, developing the bond that so often happens. I was very much saddened when I received the word two mornings ago that we lost one of those freshmen to a small arms ambush in Iraq. Billy Edwards was the guy you just couldn’t help but like with his endearing and genuine personality. We all loved Billy and will miss him very much.

Brad continues to package bulbs today, and I have more tasks in the field. There was a lot of tractor work yesterday and driving between one location to the next. It was very odd to pull into the gas station for diesel and a Gatorade, but no one really seemed to take much notice. Kelly, the local sweet potato farmer, owns the gas station, but he was not in. I had his implement that I picked up from his barn attached to the back of the tractor. I cut the tractor off when filling up, not that you need to with diesel, but I wanted a break from the loud noise. “I go out walking after midnight…” Patsy Cline sang overhead as I walked in and said hello to all of the now familiar faces. Gatorade in hand, I walked back out to the tractor…"just hoping you may be somewhere, a walking after midnight, searching for…” I turned the tractor on. Didn’t need to hear the end. Heard it a million times. Heard all the songs a million times. I just wanted to get back and get out of the heat.