For some reason Jim’s post got me thinking of my childhood. I grew up in Alabama prior to when most people had air conditioning. The summers were brutal. The worst thing was having to scrape all of the melted tar from the paved roads off our feet before we could go back inside.
I remember thinking of what church was like when I was a kid. All of the women wore blue dresses with tiny white polka dots. And as we would go into the sanctuary, we were given a cardboard fan donated by the funeral parlor. All the windows were open, but the air movement was powered by a hundred or so of those funeral parlor hand fans.
Yep, for some reason thinking about a bunch of nomads in the Quartzsite area as it is getting warmer by the day reminded me of funeral parlor hand fans going back and forth a mile a minute.
;-)