today and a chicken stone

Grammy Camp is over.  I have sent an invitation out to the granddaughters to write an entry in this blug.   If they do, they do.  If they don't, they don't.  I hope they do.  
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So what has been happening since they left for home?   You asked?
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little.
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Yesterday I went to town and got a haircut...It was about a month overdue.
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Next, I went by an insurance office to get prices on my stuff.  I have been mad at State Farm since May.  I wrote a blog about how they lied to me.  I have till next May to find a new insurance company - so I went by my next door neighbor's agency. She greeted me with open arms (as all good salespeople should).  Sometime today I will get insurance prices on my stuff and make the decisions.   Meanwhile I am negotiating with her to take over brother Jim's insurance needs too.  If he can save a buck, why not?   Hey, guys, I can give her your name too if you'd like.  Just let me know.
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It hasn't rained in a few weeks so we are starting to sprinkle the yard.  Surely this effort is appreciated by the grass and trees.  Oscar doesn't like it because I am moving hoses instead of throwing his ball.   I hope our water bill doesn't go sky high.
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Part I --  Chicken Story:   Related to Fritz Stones.  If you have been reading at all, you know my boy Fritz got sick - really sick.  He stayed in the doggy hospital for about 5 days.  When he came out, he was as spry as ever and on a roll to get outta dat place.  The Vet gave us 12 cans of I/D food to help bring him back to normal.   Gave  is the wrong word - we paid $$$$ for those cans.
Dry food was to be reintroduced at the end of a couple of weeks.  We did that.  We did.  The cans were a chicken and rice mixture ... a doggy delight I understand.  We had heard that Fritz might end up on a 100% chicken and rice diet - so we had a cooked chicken we used as doggy treats for him.  This was greatly appreciated by the starving boy.  Fritz is always starving.  Just ask him.
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Part II -- A few months back we bought an oven bowl for cooking chicken with beer.  You have surely all seen the beer can stuffed up a chicken as it is grilled.  Well, we never use beer, but that's their sell.  In this cooking bowl, you set the chicken up on a protrusion filled with your most flavorable liquid and pop the chick into the oven to cook.  The chicken comes out tasty and tender. My wife bought a chicken to be cooked for today's lunch at HEB - whole chicken from the farm of Pilgrim's Pride.
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Part II -- I went out front to change the water.  When I re-entered our kitchen, I was hit with a smell that was - no way to say it differently - rotten meat.   My spouse had the whole chicken in the sink washing it for the baking.  The smell almost gagged me.  We had a long talk about that chicken - actually, if the talk lasted 15 seconds, I'd be surprised.   Pilgrim's Pride has not upped their reputation in my house today.
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Part III -- No way we were going to eat that bird.  Fritz on the other hand has much lower standards.  We decided to throw the critter in a large pot, cover with water, and boil it till cooked... it was already ripe.  Then Fritz and the others would have a chicken feast over several days.  The process began.  It was bad, really bad.  The boiling water - the fumes - the steam - the aroma. That rotten meat smell permeated not only the kitchen but every nook and cranny of this lovely establishment.  I hurried through the house turning on exhaust fans and opening windows - a feat which is unwelcomed in most 90+ weather.
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Part IV -- Fritz or no.  Other dogs or no.  This chicken has to go.  Hey, that was a rhyme.
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Fritz or No

Other Dogs or No

This Chicken

Has to Go

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The word "other" hampers the quality of that rhyme.  Needs work.
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The uncooked chicken was dumped unceremoniously into the sink and covered with cold water. Back into the pan.   I carried all to the garage and placed it carefully on a trailer attached to the back of the John Deere.  I didn't want to drop any of that animal anywhar.   Roar.   Start that Tractor. Down the hill I flew, chicken bringing up the rear- so to speak - "rear" is a good word for that chicken.   
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Part V -- Wind blowing through my newly cut mane,  I made it to the edge of our drying, waterless lake bed.  The chicken was thrown out into a small clearing along with the remaining cooking water.    Our carrion-loving birds will have a wonderful time if their noses lead them properly.   In the words of my wife Brenda:  

"Buzzards have to eat too." 

y'all take care now 

keep those exhaust fans blowing 

and your windows wide open

 y'never know when you will meet a spoiled chicken.   

Mtz