This evening I rode the four-wheeler with the Hubster to go check on his salt lick.
If you're not from around these here parts, that first statement meant nothing to you.
There is this strange manly ritual each fall that involves much strategic planning and time-consuming conversations with other men regarding mysterious sounding things like tree-climbing stands, food plots, and the aforementioned salt lick.
Deer season is right around the corner.
So we did our duty and checked on the block of salt that was sitting in the woods completely unlicked. Apparently, the deer have gotten the memo about high-sodium diets being a danger to your health.
Although, this time of year in the South, they really shouldn't worry about high blood pressure so much as just running for their lives and dodging bullets.