Summer for the last of a dying breed
It's hot, 97 degrees outside with a heat index of 107 and the humidity is so high, you can almost cut it with a knife. I'm blessed, I'm not one of those people working outdoors in these outrageous conditions, but my husband is. The breadwinner for our family, the big teddy bear to which my kids like to jump and climb on, the guy who does it all for us. He's out there day in and day out in conditions most wouldn't make it an hour in and he never complains. No, not even once. The only time he ever mentions the heat is when I ask him how his day is, in which he always replies, "hot." Some folks are made for it and I know some aren't, I understand that. But, I have tremendous respect for the man who goes to work at 5:30 every morning so he and his crew can beat the heat. Today is Friday, and when he got home, he immediately took a nap. I could tell by the look in his eyes he was exhausted. The heat had about gotten to him today. So, I don't say a w...