Meet Buford Prichard a member of the rural community. He is an untidy slovenly man. His small farm is also let to disorder. Buford’s sole interest is with ale. However the man is not a drunkard and he is a considerate husband and father.
“Buford what are you up to out there?” Mrs. Prichard asks.
It is late afternoon and Buford is seated on the front porch sipping a pint of ale.
“Killing fly!” The man calls in return. “My daddy killed fly. His daddy killed fly.”
“If the barn yard was cleaned up proper we should not have all these flies about the place.” Mrs. Prichard is dauntless in encouraging the man.
“Killing fly is like fishing except the critters come to me direct and eager.” The man blusters. “Takes a special ability to kill fly!”
“Well what skill are you practicing with all the ale you are consuming?” The woman wants changes in the man.
“Ale steadies the hand, relaxes the eye.” Buford responds.
“It seems to me that you are always relaxing! Whatever causes you stress?” The woman is frustrated.
The man looks in her direction, considers the wisdom in his response. “Being without you dear!”
“Why don’t you finish digging that drainage ditch behind the hen house then sit down with your ale?” Mrs. Prichard is relentless.
“The rains be coming and the runoff will wear on that ditch.” Buford sips tastes from his pint. “Nature will do most of the labor!”
“Man needs time to kill fly!” He reminds his wife.
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