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Show CASTLE VALLEY TIMES % SIROCCO TIMES Castle Valley, Utah - Volume 3, Number 6 - June 15, 1994 - Hot winds are a-blowin'! My Real Father I had two fathers. One I never met, never touched. The father I did know was Reuben Oman Roberts, the man who molded much of my mind and spirit and was its guardian for forty years. Reuben is homogenized into my being. He remains a steadfast companion and friend.The fact of his death eleven years ago cannot alter this si-roc'co: a hot, dry, oppressive wind blowing in from the eastern desert. WEATHER REPORT Windy Valley sacred reality. Two memories come to mind, dredged up afteragroup ofus sat with a friend coming to grips with his father’s recent death. I was seventeen and leaving home for college. Dad pulled down his copy of Admiral Byrd’s Alone, and read the passage describing Byrd, alone and near death at the Pole. When he finished, he sat for a long moment and then asked me, and perhaps himself, “If Hot, hot, and getting hotter. Not 1008. August brings us thunder storms and double rainbows. It is then that the oppressive heat begins relenting. —-Joan Sangree only are the temperatures rising, but we are also being battered by hot winds blowing night and day. Gusts have been strong enough to tip trailers and rip sheets off clothlines. During the first half of the month the nights stayed cool, while daytime temps soured into the mid to high 903. With the recent hot winds the daytime you were alone and going to die, what temps have clung to the earth, giving would you want to have done in your life to allow you to die with integrity and a sense of completion?” At seventeen, with adolescent aloofness, I figured I was immortal. Nevertheless, Dad’s question dropped beneath all the foolishness of my mind and exploded like a depth charge. Dad was a master of the primal question. He waited a while, looked at me with calm eyes, and asked, “Who are you? What do you really want? Find out what you really want, son, and the world will get out of your way to let you have it.” It worked for Dad, one of nine children born to a sharecropper family us no respite at night. There has been no precipitation. The ground is dry, the sun’s penetrat- ing rays heating the earth deeper with RESTAURANT REVIEW each day. This produces an increase in radiant heat which bounces off the Dining Dynamite! ground and back up into houses, people, whatever is standing there. Radiant heat coming through the roof Get ready to blow them taste buds! Last week a buddy and I decided to hoof it over to Big Linda’s new and up off the ground comprises a fair Jailhouse Cafe for the dinner menu, and amount of the more oppressive heat we boy, what a treat! My friend Jan (don’t tell Apples!) couldn’t decide between feel during these hot summer days. Those of us without older stands of trees feel this unrelenting heat, reminding us that we live in a desert Fortunately for valley dwellers, we have in the ragged, arid, and red-earthed canyonlands of Texas. It worked for me as I traveled, studied, and worked over a fair chunk of the world. Now I’m home, here in the ragged, arid, and redearthed canyonlands of southeastern within minutes a great swimming hole, the Colorado River, and the La Sal Mountains. The trick is to adopt the tradition of afternoon siestas by the river, pond, or creek. Working outside in the early am. and late p.m. can be a More REAL FATHER fresh sea bass with a lime and ginger glaze, and it was truly exceptional. With the accompanying crisp dinner salad (great vinaigrettel), brown rice, and sauteed vegetables, I had to roll her out of there. Big lunk that I am, I went for the three cheese lasagna, which pleasure if we’ve given ourselves a was the finest I have ever tasted (and those rolls are to snort and kick for!) cooling break during mid to late afternoon. I’m still struggling to learn this highly sensible way of living. July is typically our hottest month, with temperatures reaching into the any of you big fancy feed bags—I’ll put Linda next to you any day! So get your fetlocks over there, folks. You will not be disappointed. Utah. Another memory comes. The year before he died, Dad and I were on the the shrimp dinner or the tofu-orchicken stir-fry, so settled instead on Move over, Emie’s or Delmonico’s or on Page 6 LJ-J And a big BIG round of applause from all of us in Castle Valley to our very WE LOV. YOU, DAD own star gourmet chef. —Your Galloping Gourmand |