I’m going to have to stop leaving the windows of my truck open…and I’ll tell you why, but not before I ramble on a bit.
Before I moved to Piggott to take the job as the paper’s editor, I’d been there so many times before that I’d come to think of it as my home away from home. Mom and Dad, both being from Piggott, talked about things, places, people, events so often that I knew many of the stories better than they did, especially after the dozenth or so telling.
One of the things I’d heard about Piggott so often when I was a kid was how everybody left the keys in their car, or left their doors unlocked at night. I even heard that many of the folks slept at night with the doors and windows open during the summer months because it was so hot.
Of course, growing up in Mississippi, it’s often funny to hear folks talk about “hot.” I can honestly say you don’t know “hot” until you’ve mowed yards in 113 degree weather… in the middle of August…uphill…barefoot…in fire ants.
With the football season coming on and two-a-days getting ready, someone mentioned the team will start around 8:30 or 9 a.m. This isn’t the official report or anything, so don’t mark it on the calendar—get it from the coach. My point is that when I was in high school way down South, our two-a-day morning practice started at 7 a.m. and it was already nearing 90. Add the helmet and all the pads and its doggone hot. Sweat and chinstraps make for some pretty unsightly facial blemishes, too…just watch the players here in a few weeks and see if I’m not right.
But I ramble…
It’s easy for me to imagine sleeping with the windows open and the breeze blowing through. Of course, it’s easy for me to imagine a million dollars, too. Somebody must have forgotten to tell Dad before he was transferred that Brandon, Mississippi is about 300 miles south of Piggott and about 300 degrees hotter! I used to hang half off my bed and stick my face in the screen of the window hoping for a breeze that never came…unless Dad turned the fan on…in his room, of course.
And of course, doing that—sleeping next to the screen, I mean—means that I got to hear everything going on outside.
Once, in the wee early morning hours, with a bright moon illuminating the place, I woke up with a dog’s face staring right at mine. He’d propped his front paws up on the window ledge (it was a low window) and was simply watching me sleep, I guess.
Needless to say, it scared the mess out of me to wake up and see a dog staring at me. I learned to back away from the screen a little.
I don’t like getting into a hot vehicle, though, and so I often leave my windows down.
Not any more!
I recently came to my open-windowed vehicle to discover a bird had been inside my truck and had done his little birdie-business (birds don’t have to shake) on my steering wheel, on the inside of my door near the handle and on the back of my seat.
I ate chicken that night just to prove man was still the superior species…after I used the Windex and paper towels, that is.