Iraqi Heat

I moved into a tent recently. It seemed about 140 degrees in there today when I tried to sleep on the stiff cot. The A/C was out since the generator broke. Needless to say, I awoke in a pool of my own sweat.

Also, with the sand fly bites, the spiders on and in my sleeping bag, and the horrific sand storms in this arid, flat land, I have greater insight to the writers of the Bible. A land flowing with 'milk and honey' seems wonderful about now. I'd just be happy to see a few pretty song birds...or some grass. Anything green for that matter.

Just the smell of home makes me want to smile -- my wife's hair, fresh homemade food baking in the oven, and my children. It's hard to imagine a real shower and indoor plumbing, Internet that actually works, carpet, a change of clothes -- something different every day if I wanted.

Home is synonymous with relaxing. Relaxing hasn't been something easy to do in an uncomfortable war zone and less than ideal living conditions.

It might sound strange, but I'd like to drive in my car all alone and sing songs at the top of my lungs: The 3 Tenors, Michael Buble', Vittorio Grigolo, Josh Groban.

That'll be a refreshing change. 'Twon't be much longer.