When I got to the bottom of Hick and Buddy's Badly Blacktopped Hill, there was a sign made of poster board on a stick, with a couple of limp balloons dangling. I couldn't quite read what it said. It looked like a bunch of initials. I figured maybe it was that horse-jumping club.
Down by the mailboxes was another sign just like it. The poster board had curved in, but again, I couldn't see all the letters. A couple miles farther, where the blacktop county road comes to the lettered county highway, there was another sign with limp balloons. This one I could read. LUAU.
Well. That's curious. I always thought a luau involved a pig buried on coals to roast all day. I had not seen anything that looked like a pit. Not even many people around outside. Usually, people hang around having beers and riding 4-wheelers or side-by-sides.
I sent Farmer H a text warning him to look out for reckless drivers when he came home. Guests out here don't always use common sense when flying around on motorized toys.
When Hick got home, he said there were hardly any cars down at the neighbor's house. Again, that seemed odd. I guess maybe they could have eaten their luau inside, at noon. None of the details lent themselves to what I consider a luau.
That is strange. You need a big group of people to eat a pig!
ReplyDeleteKathy,
DeleteAlso, I did not smell any delicious aromas. Such an odd luau! We can even smell when people are grilling, but nothing in the air for the luau. Maybe they all just wore leis and did the hula!