This morning I was doing laundry and I noticed that buzzards kept swooping across the back yard. Now technically I live in city limits but on the edge, so we are surrounded by pasture on three sides. I assumed that something had died in the back pasture. A little while later I glance out the window and they are congregating in my back yard and all along the back fence. That just completely creeps me out....makes me want to check that there is no hooded guy with a scythe behind me.
Well I called John Mark at his office downtown....and in typical male fashion says Cool! I'll be right there. He is home five minutes later and getting out the BB gun (Okay, how old are you?). He succeeds in getting a few shots off and the flock disappears. I then tell him to go find out what had died in the yard that attracted the dang things in the first place.
He starts laughing and tells me it was the chicken he couldn't get to grill properly last night.....he had just thrown the whole thing over the fence, and then poured the BBQ sop in the yard. I just turned to him completely stunned!
"You Did What?!!!!!??????"
"Well the pit never got hot enough to grill that whole chicken so I threw it over the fence."
I know his mother raised him better than that....in fact she would be completely mortified! Apparently my husband has decided (without consulting me) to become a full-fledged redneck. I reminded my
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