RANCHO SPRINGY DINGY

 

Welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for April! Surprise! This month's issue is not on time. That’s probably because things are still rather hectic around here. We’re busier than Wal-Mart on Black Friday!

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the fabulously lush, and resplendent-with-flowers, verdant, and dang-near-Irish-green, foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. We've had a couple more inches of rain so far this season and it has taken that amount of wetness for the trees and flowers of our hills to finally break forth into glorious splendor. Though, technically, this is our rainy season, we’re not all that hopeful that we’ll be getting more rain even if the rest of the state has to be hauled out of the Pacific Ocean and shoveled back in place because of flooding. Lots of broad smiles and sighs of relief in beautiful downtown Springville! The indescribable aroma of orange blossoms is well on its way and my bees are praising the Lord for the huge bloom! Anyway, thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo happy huevos industrial                                                                    complex.

Click on pics to enlarge

Wanna see my new Sekely wagon?! We have a really nice smaller wagon similar to this big one but, the other day (when lots of things happen around here), we ran into a yard sale (no news there). The gent who runs it buys huge pallets of stuff that are returned from Walmart, Target, et. al. then he sells it on weekends. We had already priced these things prior to purchasing our existing red hauler. Wagons the size of the one we have now sell for $90-$120. This one sells for $159.00. So, we were more than thrilled when the guy turned this one loose for (hang on to your blanket, chief!)....40 dollars! Zowie! Oh, but there's more. He charged us 40 bucks for the wagon but there were a couple of armloads of other things that we had put in the wagon! The goodies in the wagon were free! Zowie x 2!!! Yards sales are our friends!

The snow got down to about the 2,500' level recently so Black Mountain got a good dusting of the white stuff. The weather warmed up pretty quickly so it didn't last long. 

What did last was the snow pack. It's still sub-par but it's better than nothing. This shot was taken on Success Valley Drive just off of 190 and looking NE (true north). 

To the right is a humdinger of a handy gadget to have around. It's a big heavy VacuPack sealer. We've had it for 7 or so years and it gets a good workout every year during harvest times (and whenever). It doesn't look heavy but it certainly is! The bags aren't all that expensive when you buy them in bulk. 

The other day was a really busy day. The sprayer hose on our sink gave out so it was determined to just buy another sprayer and pop it on. Sure. This is Rancho Relaxo where you just never know what's going to happen around here. When the new sprayer was being screwed on, the PLASTIC fitting broke off the fixture. GREAT! So, a new fixture was in order. 

Off to Lowe's we went where Connie the dishwasher picked out a really nice new one. Notice that it perfectly fits the kitchen decor. The sink was replaced a couple of years ago so the kitchen looks really nice now. I place the decor timeline at about 1950 which fits the old Luddites quite well (we even have kerosene lamps if we need them!).  

This is a shot of four feral hens who have been showing up for breakfast for the past couple of months. They were very very skittish so it didn't take much to spook them. However, after sprinkling chicken scratch around the front of the coop and near the door, one of the birds ventured up close to the door (which I conveniently had held slightly ajar). She followed the "bread crumb trail" up to the door and I gently booted her into the coop. If that doesn't just float your rubber duckie, a second hen did the same thing and I helped her to go inside. The next day, a third bird did the same! Now, we have three new egg factories to help keep the ranch going! The fourth bird hasn't quite settled down but she probably will ultimately find here way "home" with her sisters. There was a rooster but he hasn't been seen for quite awhile so it is suspected that he became a chicken dinner somewhere along the way. 

Strange things happen around here from time to time and this was perhaps the strangest in a long time. During the feeding time a few mornings ago, this little gal was lying stuck and almost paralyzed in the mud. The coop had flooded due to the rain and when that happens, we get a real muddy mess in the coop. Somehow, she managed to not only get stuck, she was so mired down and covered with mud that she couldn't move! Part of the issue was that our ground/dirt is clay based and it's like concrete when it dries. So, I found her lying helpless and being trampled over by the other birds. It took about 20 minutes to rinse her down and get most of the mud off. That was no small chore because the mud was so hard and thick! We brought her inside where we wrapped her in a towel and put her in a box to get dry. Before we left for town, we checked on her and it appeared that she wasn't going to make it. Since there really wasn't much we could do for her, we went on our way. Imagine our surprise and relief when we returned to find her quite well and ready to go back to the coop! You just never know. 

We happened upon a fire along the Tule River where there are numerous homeless encampments. We knew right away what this was since it is a somewhat regular occurrence. Since it had just started, we called 911 and reported it. The FD was on scene in about 8 minutes or so. This shot was taken at the 500 block of W. Springville, Dr. in Porterville. 

 

Tip O’ the Day:

“Always use the restroom before you put your spacesuit on” – anonymous (but probably Flash Gordon)

And now, a word from our sponsor:

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by “Pretty Patty Pendanger’s Portulated Pembletons”. Now, these are the best “Portulated Pembletons” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Portulated Pembletons” anywheres! And, folks, they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of “Pretty Patty Pendanger’s Portulated Pembletons” at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Rapid Mart, Quick Mart, Save Mart, and all those marts where those guys have them towels wrapped around their heads. Tell'em the Ol' Rancher sent you. You'll be glad you did!

Holy “Reese’s Pieces”, Batman! It’s April! How did that happen?! It’s only 259 days until Christmas! We best start shopping! Moving along….

Rancho Relaxo Report:

We are moving along here at the rancho (we do a lot of that around here). There' s a possibility that the two occupants here at the old folk's home are not quite ready for the hustle and bustle of springtime. But, since there aren't many alternatives, we're forced to grapple with reality and will try to hustle and bustle the best we can.  

Our birds a thriving and our dogs are digging while we are getting our one retarded duck in a row (do you have any idea just how difficult that is?!). There are a number of things that will just have to wait (again) until we can get to them. Otherwise, all is well and we are quite the blessed rancho. 

Some/most of our rolling stock isn't rolling and that is an issue. The Four-Trax quad hauler is down and the Ford 8N tractor is down. The riding lawn tractor, Rancho Clippo, needs a seasonal tune up (which it needed a couple of season ago). It'll need to be hauled down to Porterville Ag-Home soon. The robust Echo weed whacker is OK as is the Echo leaf blower. That's good but just about everything else that has moving parts is in some kind of need (including the old folks). 

The fencing around Connie the Washerwoman's clothes lines needs to be replaced and the area needs to be relevelled after Fuzzy Doggie Dog ended his gold mining job there (we hoped he would hit the mother lode). For now, it's filled with potholes and it's a great place to break an ankle. Not good. We're tying to get him to stop digging so many holes around the property but I think his cheese has done slipped off the cracker. He's not changing. 

The four once-glorious-now-idle garden boxes are seriously due for a major overhaul or replacement. That was a major undertaking ten years ago. It is even a more major project now because the labor force is ten years older (I didn't vote for that). The cost of wood has placed it on the "Hey, we can always win the lottery" list for now. An alternative would be using concrete corners specifically made for custom building raised garden boxes. But, again, the wood would cost the price of good used car (OK...maybe more like a good used motorcycle). As it was, I think I recall that we had about 600 bucks in the project at the time. It's now about four times that! Who knows? I may win the lottery but.... I'd have to buy a ticket. *SIGH*

Zee  Rain, Boss! Zee Rain!

 We did get rain recently. Our seasonal total is far being met but no one in this part of the state is complaining after being hammered by a six year drought that isn't officially over yet. Nevertheless, it's really great to see the color GREEN again after so many months of seeing BROWN (we deceive ourselves by calling it "California gold" to assuage our eye strain).

Zee Flood, Boss! Zee flood! 

There can be an issue with "zee rain" and that is "zee flood". The Placid Pecker Palace is built in a low spot next to, and on the west side, of the barn. That's a good thing during the summer when the sun bakes and bleaches everything here at the rancho (including chickens). We try to take good care of our dirty birdies since they do such a great job of providing us with high-quality cackle fruit (and a chicken dinner if our roosters don't behave). 

Well....having a slick muddy floor (which, in places is 6" deep or more) in your chicken coop isn't a good thing...at all. Let me 'splain that to you. 

The not long ago (but longer than the other day), it was time to make the clucking crew happy again. This "happy time" is when, from outside, a scoop of layer pellets or chicken scratch is chucked in at the back of the coop. Then entire team cuts in their afterburners to be the first to grab the first morsel of chicken scratch. It's nothing but a furious flurry of feathers! Only God knows why most of them are not killed in the crush because it's one huge chicken wreck! 

After that trick, the front door can be opened and a few boxes of vegetables can brought in and distributed (wherever) in the coop. This time, it was near the rear where the only reasonably dry place resided. Things went downhill fast from there. 

All things that could precipitate a real doozy of a fall conspired to assail the Ol' Rancher's structural integrity: a snot-slick muddy bog, a loose rubber boot (shoulda worn fatter socks), a quick move, and a moment's inattention was all it took to win the gold medal for coop gymnastics. 

The impact sequence is pretty easily described: head tuck, shoulder roll, a beautiful last second sprawl with the obligatory hand flailing, and schhhploooop! Down for the win! Many thoughts raced through my mind as I lay there squirming in and coated with mud that was thoroughly mixed with...um..."UGH!" stuff. It's bad enough to wade through it but, to make an off-airport crash landing in it leaves one (almost) speechless. Some of the words were probably best kept to myself, especially the first one (though it was a very accurate summation of the matter). Guess who was quite underwhelmed? 

Amazingly, the first words uttered were, "That was interesting". Thank you, Mr. Spock! Looks like Ol' Ran wasn't wasting his time as a teenager watching every episode of "Star Trek" ten times for nothing, eh?

All seriousness aside. there really is no way to describe experiencing a surprise attack by a mud hole when you aren't really in the mood for a full-body mud and excrement bath. The Rancho coveralls were a true mess, too  (Connie the Washer Woman wasn't thrilled). Thankfully, the gymnast's trajectory was the correct way (ergo, the gold medal) and 215 pounds of pink flesh smashed into a large mud hole. Swell. Of course, the chances of not hitting at least a small mud hole in the chicken coop that day were about 1:100, but I digress. As Rancho Ran's mother used to say: "Do a job big or small. Do it well or not at all". Thanks, Mom. No disappointment that day. He nailed it with a "10".  

Similarly to the previous hard fall in the coop (at least Ol' Ran had sense enough to do it when the coop floor was dry), an assessment had to be made so it was triage time. There seemed to be no missing parts despite one gluteal area near the hip which cast some doubt the matter. After a few wiggles of the appendages and a slow test to see if the spine was willing to return to its original vertical configuration, it was deemed that the elderly body, though not without pain, was capable of continuing without medical assistance (and hoping that a couple of Ibuprophen would make the day better). 

It could have been considerably worse given that there were two large chicken roosts to  choose from.  Had the flailing been in another direction, the result would have been much worse (and there would be no gold medal). Narrowly avoiding a subdural hematoma was also somewhat therapeutic. It can be said that, somewhere in there, there was a temporary sense of humor failure.

Nevertheless, the Ol’ Rancher lived to feed chickens another day and he has officially resigned from the Olympics. He's good with the single win. 

Face off with a middle-aged Mutant Nija Chicken or He pecked me first!

Oh, but this is Rancho Relaxo where you just never know. The adventures seem to never cease. Some odd days after the mud bath event, everything was proceeding on schedule. A rather big box of lettuce leaves was being spread out so that whatever other soft veggies/fruits from the box could be sliced up with the Rancho Machete, Señor Whacko. Melons need to be sliced up as do other things that have tough exteriors.

You'd think that, after years of herding chickens, that the Ol' Rooster (some of the hens actually squat when I come in. Not sure if there's a feeling of honor there) would pay attention every millisecond that he's in the coop. However, simple routines can easily cause one to lose focus and drop his guard leaving him vulnerable. 

Anyway, all was progressing smoothly until Harvey Henbanger II sauntered over and pecked me. This is not an unusual occurrence that has been reported in the blog prior to this time. However, being busy, busy, busy Ol' Ran was trying to get out of the coop and back to house where it's a threat-free environment (and where they serve pretty good coffee). Since he pecked me first, I forcefully swatted him away from me and proceeded with the chore. Oh, brother. Forcing the huge rooster to raise his hackles wasn't wise. Getting in hurry and not paying attention brought with it a price to pay and it wasn't pretty. 

In only a few seconds, he blindsided me with the force of a sledgehammer! I wish this was an exaggeration but it truly is not! His spur pierced my wrist inflicting about a 1/4" deep stab wound while his talons scratched the other side. It would have been much deeper but the spur hit the ulna bone. But, the force was utterly unexpected. I've not been staggered by such a small animal! Connie the Nurse patched me up with the proper antibiotics and administered Ibuprofen and, of course, some TLC. The wrist was swollen for a few days but quickly retuned to normal with only a couple of bumps/scars remaining. Methinks that Harvey is going to end up being invited to the next BBQ. 

Tasty Burger or Pass the fries, please!

You can’t quite walk into a “Tasty Burger” without raising at least one eyebrow (you may want to practice that at home lest you look silly in public) at such an inauspicious, dated, corny, and perhaps naive name as that. It’s like they searched and searched all over for a name for a burger joint and found the last remaining unused one in the entire world.

It sort of reminds me of a trip I was on heap many moons ago (and no few suns, too!). I was headed northbound (not sure what my destination was) and stopped somewhere on the east side of the higher up regions in Oregon (near Bend or Redmond, maybe?). We stopped for lunch at a smallish place where they had a sign that said, “Best hamburgers in Oregon!”. Hmmmm. Interesting.

Not being one to pass up the “best hamburger” around, I asked the pleasant young lady at the counter, “I’d like one of your burgers but I need to have you sell me on why it’s the best one in Oregon”. With a cute sheepish smile, she stated, “I’m not sure”. Well, all I could do was grin too. Her humbleness sold me on the burger. One burger, one Diet Pepsi, and I’m back on the road again.

 We waited a couple of weeks for the crowds to die down before trying out the place. It was fairly certain that, anyone who would name their place "Tasty Burger" would have to live up to the fanfare or they would be out of business quicker than you can shuck corn. So, without trepidation, we took our place in the fairly long line (which was to be expected). 

Interestingly enough, though the burgers were tempting, we ordered their 20 piece chicken nuggets with fries menu item. The 11.99 price was particularly alluring because a similar meal at Wendy's is about 50% higher in price. After all, the place wasn't going anywhere any time soon (and they didn't) so we opted to check out their burgers later. 

We usually split larger meals like this anyway due to the fact that, during the previous 60 years, both of my legs had lost their ability to be hollow. That and, nowadays, I can almost wave a menu over my head and gain 6 pounds. So, we try to be wise old people. 

Well....Lo and behold! The nuggets were fabulous and and hot and so were the fries! That lunch was so good that when we returned a couple of weeks later, we ordered the same thing again! No disappointments! This time, Connie the Canner wanted to try the chicken strips and one of our friends ordered the shrimp basket. Neither of the ladies were able to finish such large portions so you know who was glad to assist in the anti-waste (pro-waist) efforts. 

As a card-carrying member of "The Cleanup Crew Association", it was my pleasure to sample the remaining chicken parts and pieces to insure that the restaurant lived up to our expectations. Connie advised that her strips were too difficult to eat. I concurred so that item was scratched from the menu. The shrimp were OK but, if I want shrimp, look for me at Morrow Bay or Pismo. 

So, it looks like we'll try their burgers next time!! We're looking forward to that since the old folks are true burger fans! 

 Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo (aka “Dos Acres”): home of Rancho Ran, the world's least-most greatest authority: home of the Yo-Yo  twins and  three ducks that we try to keep in a row (one of which is retarded): home of Connie the Canner, the world's greatest side-kook and CEE (Chief of Everything Else): where the air smells and where alliteration reigns supreme: where being modern is optional and where there are no slaves to fashion: where the eggs are always mostly fresh: where things can get...interesting: where it's all news to me and where...you just never know.

BIENVENIDOS A LA MARCHA - WELCOME MARCH

 Welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for March! This month's issue is not on time. That’s probably because things are still rather hectic around here. We’re busier than a kayaker in white water! 

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the almost lush green foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. We've had about 4" of rain so far this season and it takes the full amount wetness for the trees of our hills to clap their hands for joy (so far, they're just humming). Just like last month, this is our rainy season and we finally got a couple of days of "soaker rain". Lots of smiles in the hood! Until the other day, we haven't had enough rain to slick the flap on a size 10 envelope. At least we’re in the middle of the annual “frog hatch” when we are usually inundated with baby frogs. We've heard only a couple of nights of croaking. It should be at least a week of  noise. We'll see what happens after the rain. Anyway, thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo happy huevos industrial complex. 

Wanna see my security team? Here are our two admirably brave doggies who have kept the rancho clear of Gypsies, ghosts, ghouls, banshees (not a shriek was heard!), tommyknockers (evil little buggers, they are!), hag witches, or vampires (and they didn't even need garlic!). Obviously, they had to rest their exhausted bodies after such strenuous evening patrols. 

There's snow on them thar hills! During our brief couple of rainy days, the temperature dropped down which led to some white precipitation down low. Downtown Springville is just behind the nearby hill in the picture and to the north about a mile. It actually snowed a couple of miles further up the road from town but not here. A lot of it stuck around for a short time. 

          Many thanks to Charlotte Pendragon for sharing this gorgeous shot of our hills and mountains! 

The other day, when lots of things happen around here, we needed to take Wooly Pully into Hooterville so we could haul home the timed-out produce trimmings for our biddy buddies. This is what greeted the Ol' Rancher when he started to hook up the trailer. Bummer. The good news is that it was only flat on the bottom. Despite such a good diagnosis, we had to resort to "Plan B" and head to town without our two-wheeled handy gadget. At Wal-Mart, we picked up a new wheel and tire (a little tire with a big price!) and will use the repaired one for a spare. No more surprises and delays. Spare tires are our friends!

Tip O' The Day: 

"A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked" — Bernard Meltzer

And now, a word from our sponsor: 

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by “Auntie Ashely’s Averated Albarded Addnasters”. Now, these are the best “Averated Albarded Addnasters” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Averated Albarded Addnasters” anywheres! And, folks, they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of “Auntie Ashely’s Averated Albarded Addnasters” at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Quick Mart, Rapid Mart, Save Mart,  and all those marts where those guys have them towels wrapped around their heads. Tell'em the Ol' Rancher sent you. You'll be glad you did!

Holy cheese fondu, Batman! It’s March! (altogether now and really loud) “Where did all the time go?!" Somebody’s been greasin’ the clocks! It's only 290 days until Christmas! Movin' along.....

Things are, indeed, moving along here at the rancho albeit at a rather slow pace. It sometimes seems that our wheel barrow is staked to the ground. But, other than being under the weather for a few days, all is well. We continuously wonder at the favor wherewith we are blessed! Wherever we go, we are blessed and are blessed going in and blessed going out! Our rancho runneth over! 

Spring is hunting us down like a wild-eyed coon dog on meth! Lot's of stuff to get done before it slams into us. But, it's difficult to determine how much we'll get accomplished given that we are still catching up with last spring. Ugh! Our heart is in the right place but I'm sure where our minds are. *SIGH*!

There's a new burger joint in town! It's "TASTY BURGER". Frankly, though they're a good sized chain, we had never heard of them. So, what are burger-lovin' old folks to do when there's a new burger place in town? Yep! We headed down there and ordered up a feast! 

The first time there, we split a large 20 piece order of chicken nuggets and fries. The nuggets were fresh and hot as were the fries. That was good enough for us to grab a couple of friends and head back over there for a second round of goodness. 

The second time, one friend got the spicy chicken wings, the other friend got the shrimp combo, Connie the Canner got the chicken strips combo, and the Ol' Burgermaster got the "Tasty Burger" combo. Everyone was satisfied but Connie won't likely try the chicken strips again. She said they were too difficult to eat. In any event, we'll likely check out some of the other goodies on the menu (hopefully, soon!).

Chickening Report

 It has taken what seems like an inordinate time but most of the pullets are now starting to step to the plate and have started to do what that God designed them to do: lay eggs. Reckon you just can't rush Mother Nature. However, they’re still laying what I call “practice eggs”. Not to worry, though, because my experience leads me to believe that they will be laying huevos grandes really soon.  

And, with the pullets are coming into season. we're finding that so are the cockerels. Whoo, boy! These guys are classic examples of just how good proud and presumptuous male birds can be. They're all now trying out to be the next cock o' the walk and to be the sole shining standard of studding in the entire poop coop. It's a real rodeo when the sun comes up.  

I had to have a little señor-a-papagallo talk the other day with Harvey Henbanger II. We’ve been getting along really well as of late. So, I was a bit put off when I strolled by and he pecked me (had he been really riled, he would have attacked me). He was parked on the large cage that’s in the coop that we use  as an isolation ward for the little birds until they’re big enough for the general population. If he does peck me, it’s usually from behind so this was a bit unusual. 

I stopped and looked him straight in the beak (it’s easier that way since his eyes are on the side of his head). “Hey”, I said. "What’s with pecking? I wasn't even in your way much less challenging you, you dumb cluck! Don’t you think it’s way too nice of a day to start a war? Besides, I'm not looking to end up with maxillofacial disfiguration today" (I usually leave that to the hens). It didn’t take long to chart this matter through my brain cells. He wasn't bucking a beak-to-beak. He just wanted me to feed him right then and there! Ol' Bang is spoiled rotten! Having correctly assessed the matter, the big lug got a pass this time. But, he needs to stop being such a pesky pecker so he doesn't slow down the workers (all one of us).  

One of the newer larger boys has taken the art of "chickening" to great heights. He's a pretty boy (no kidding. He really is a handsome guy) and he knows it and comports himself accordingly. I don't think he has left any of the hens without him forcefully introducing himself upon them (literally upon them). It's become obvious that he has purposed to flood the land with his DNA and has pulled out all stops to git'r done! I've named him "Tyrone F. Horneigh" (thank you Arte Johnson and "Laugh In"!) since he fits the bill to a tee! Harvey Henbanger II is still the stud duck around there and it's not likely that Tyrone will ever be big enough to topple the real cock o' the walk. But, I'm not sure if his ego will allow him to submit without him first getting his feathery butt kicked a few times by the more powerful reigning rooster! We may lack peace in the coop for awhile. In any case, it's "meat bird" season and we can always fit the fighters into the freezer where they can...um...cool their heels. 

Hamster Report: 

There has been considerable progress being made at the Radio Active Rancho (well....relatively considerable when compared to how little progress was made during the previous ten years or so). 

The crank-up tower is now up and vertical. However, "someone" will need to find three 15' steel pipes (or equivalent) to which the guy wires can be attached. The tower will otherwise sway and tear itself form it's moorings. This is not a good thing. After being stuck in the  ground, the pipes still need to be about 10' above ground level so that passersby (most likely me) won't garrote themselves. 

The issue is finding pipes that length and then getting heavy enough equipment to bust through this concrete-like ground that we have here. If we can get started while the ground is wet, we can beat the system. Rotsa ruck, Ran. 

Part of the agenda up here in  the hills is to have a radio network for Springville and the local 5 odd mile surrounding area. It's a great idea especially since we've had numerous thefts of packages and mailbox thefts. Likewise, there seems to be a number of bad guys roaming around and suspiciously casing the neighborhoods. We have a lot of loose cattle and horses and no few missing doggies and cats, too. 

So, Rancho Relaxo is being set up to be the hub station of the local radio network. You can call it a "Citizens Band" network because, whether licensed or not, we are all citizens who are banding together to help one another. So far, the hub will be called "Station X" (no relation to Musk). Many of the users will be using the small inexpensive FRS/GMRS handy talkies. They are rather low powered but they will easily be within relay range if necessary. Most FRS radios struggle at having about 1/2 watt of output power but they are FM transceivers which has a great advantage over the older AM radios. 

Next is CB radios. Good used CB rigs are readily available and easy to set up and use. They're mostly "plug and play". They are restricted to 4 Watts output but you can use just about any kind of antenna that you want (mobile, mounted on the house, a beam mounted on a tower). Most mobile units can be mounted indoors and used as a base station. This is what I do and just use a coax switch to change between my mobile CB transceiver and my Yaesu FT-817 ham transceiver. I also tune both rigs with a single MFJ-949E antenna tuner. Both even use the same 3 amp power supply. It works out really well that way. 

For VHF/UHF ham comms, there is Yeasu mobile rig running to a Comet daul-band vertical antenna for VHF 2 Meters (144-148 Mhz). It's tuned with an MFJ-921 VHS tuner. If I need to, I can switch over to one of the low-powered UHF handy talkie radios and use the same antenna so I can increase the range. That's an alternate option for now. Currently, for UHF, I've elected to just use my other  antenna which is a "J-Pole" vertical. So, that's the antenna being used for all 400 Mhz comms (FRS/GMRS and HAM). It's being tuned with an MFJ-941 UHF tuner. 

The odd ball radio is the 1 1/2 Meter band handy talkie made by Radtel (tri-band). This is the newest of the Rancho Radio HT collection. It seems to be a good radio with a nice heftiness to it. But, there's a need to track down the CHIRP software so it can be programmed (you may not want to let it get out that the Ol' Rancher is "convenience oriented" and doesn't want to fuss with learning how to manually program it). CHIRP doesn't have it yet but they're pretty good about staying up to date with newer radios. In any case, it was easy enough to just enter into "frequency mode" and just plug in the 1 1/2 Meter simplex call frequency of 223.50 Mhz. 

As for actual HF ham operation, the 10 Meter band has been open a lot this winter. So, the other day, the Ol' Hamster decide to dial in his equipment to see what would happen. There was an operator calling "CQ" but I didn't recognize the nationality of his callsign. It was a strange one. I was most pleased when he heard my signal and answered me!! He identified himself as being in Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands (about 650 miles east of Papua New Guinea) in far south Pacific Ocean! That's 6,100 miles from Rancho Relaxo! That was a real treat because I was only running 5 watts output. Guess who was wearing a pretty wide grin?! 

But, that wasn't the biggest of the kicks! I'm still getting used to operating the Yeasu FT-817 so was fiddling with settings and trying to dial in things (especially for working CW which is Morse Code). Can you even imagine the look on the Ol' Ranchers mug when he discovered that his RF output was not 5 watts but was only 2.5 watts?!! Whoa! The default setting on the radio had been change to 2.5 watts prior to my owning it (it can even be dropped down to .5 watt)! That was a blast! 

If there's enough time, the ICOM IC-730 will be fired up soon. It's running 100 watts output so that really will liven things up a bit. At least I'll be on par with most of the other operators. After that, I'll try to tinker with the ICOM IC-706MKII-G. It's a super compact unit that still has a respectable output. It has some sort of an issue but it appears to fixable. We'll see. The "big rigs" will be powered by the quite stout 35 amp Pyramid power supply. It can be used as a boat anchor if it ever up and dies on us. Big box!

Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo (aka “Dos Acres”): home of Rancho Ran, the world's least-most greatest authority: home of the Yo-Yo  twins and  three ducks that we try to keep in a row (one of which is retarded): home of Connie the Canner, the world's greatest side-kook and CEE (Chief of Everything Else): where the air smells and where alliteration reigns supreme: where being modern is optional and where there are no slaves to fashion: where the eggs are always mostly fresh: where things can get...interesting: where it's all news to me and where...you just never know.

 

 

 

Frebrero En El Invierno Pero Sin Lluvia - It's February But There Isn't Any Rain

Welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for February! This month's issue is not on time. That’s probably because things are still rather hectic around here. We’re busier than the crew of a leaky sub.

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the begging-to-be-Irish-green foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Just like last month, this is our rainy season but someone forgot to tell the weatherman (has anyone even seen him lately?). We haven't had enough rain to slick a frog's back. We’re rapidly approaching the annual “frog hatch” when we are inundated with baby frogs. We have yet to hear a single croak (not a bad thing for us but not good for the froggies).  We're not sure what will happen if the ground isn't soft enough for them  to hatch. But, we still have hope that El Niño/La Niña/La Bamba will decide to drench our thirsty rancho with our share of agua viva. In fact, we are expecting rain (or at least, our version of rain) in a few days. So far, it’s only a 50% chance which translates to, “don’t set out your buckets just now”.  We don’t cotton to dust in February so our hopes are high. Anyway, thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo happy huevos industrial complex. 

Not long ago, but longer that than the other day, we came into a treasure trove of cherries (I'd say 30lbs is a treasure trove, eh?)! Well, Connie the Baker woman had an apron, a pan, and a hot oven waiting, don'tcha know. She whomped up some pie crust and got with the program and produced this beautiful cherry cobbler quicker than a cat could wink it's eye! Needless to say, the cobbler wasn't given time to get stale. 

Wanna see my "Swedes"?! "Swedes" are great big turnips that have a beautiful golden flesh and that, when boiled and then whipped up, have a mild cabbage flavor. I'm appalled that I haven't been introduced to them up until now! The Ol' Rancher loves cabbage (especially when it is accompanied by a chunk of corned beef!) and just about any version/recipe will  please my palate. So, imagine what happened when these mashed up babies were hit with a healthy knob of real butter and a dash of salt?! Man! My taste buds leapt over a wall! These ugly-but-delicious root veggies will not be forgotten!

Here's a blast from the past. This is Princess Abbie from the blog  in Oct. 2015. It's difficult to believe that she's more than 10 years old! The blurb goes like this: 

Why......yes, in fact...I am talking to you! Dearest furry, loving, perky, bright, adorable, Princess Abbie....we understand that you are bored. We know that you love to play fetch and tug o'war .....aaaaaall daaaaay long (when you're not protecting the ground from being sunburned). But, we are unable to accommodate those pastimes for now. It's just part of the hazards of living with energy-limited old folks. 

This is also from 2015. It the "Hen House Hilton" under construction. The blub reads: 

"Ain't she a beaut?! We figure that it will take until about the year 2525 (if man is still alive) to sell enough eggs to break even on this gig"

This picture was taken in 2012. It is of the Sahara Desert taken from an Airbus 320 enroute from Schipol Airport,  Amsterdam to Accra, Ghana, West Africa. Words really can't describe just how desolate this place is. The blue in the back is the Mediterreranean Sea as we passed over the Algerian coastline. The blurb reads: 

"The Sahara Desert is a mind boggling wilderness. It seemed as though our flight over this place would never end. It is obvious that at some time in the past it was filled with rivers. Perhaps the "gold of Ophir" mentioned in the Bible was mined here"

This is a shot from 2020 not long after I picked up my Part 107 FAA "Small Aircraft Systems" (aka "drones") certification. The drone is still here and the drone pilot is still learning how to use it. It would probably help if he took it out of it's case, once in awhile, eh?

Tip O’ the Day

Tent camping is only fun for so long.

And now, a word from our sponsor: 

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by “Bobby Busby’s Blooferated Bladdy Blubbers”. Now, these are the best “Blooferated Bladdy Blubbers” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Blooferated Bladdy Blubbers” anywheres! And, folks, they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of “Bobby Busby’s Blooferated Bladdy Blubbers” at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Quick Mart, Rapid Mart, Save Mart,  and all those marts where those guys have them towels wrapped around their heads. Tell'em the Ol' Rancher sent you. You'll be glad you did!

Holy hot Polish golumpki, Batman! It's February!! Where, or where, has the time gone? It's only 317 days until Christmas! You may want to stock up on some wrapping paper while it's still on closeout pricing! 

Chickening or What’s happening in the fluffy butt hut and the egg wrap up report: 

Our bird herd is still thriving and healthy. There are 40 of them but they eat as much as 40 pigs. We try to oblige them with all of the delicacies we can but they seem to have stomachs that are larger than their bodies. I think that there's something supernatural about it. We can never appease or satiate their hunger. Even when they are well fed, they'd take on Hulk Hogan for his Subway sandwich! 

Our pretty birdie pullets are now growing into their calling of producing wholesome fresh eggs. For some reason, it seems like they aren't maturing as fast as it was thought that they would. We've seen a few "practice" eggs but it appears that we are now starting to laying some "real" ones. If they keep getting fed, the bet is that they will finally get the hint and we'll have a coop full of eggs each day. 

Harvey Henbanger II and I have become pals. He was pretty testy there for awhile when he overthrew the previous ruler in a violent coup in the coop. Upon crowning himself, he became the great protector of the entire coop and, if it didn’t have feathers, it was “dead meat”. Thankfully, I’m a tad smarter than a chicken (well…most of the time, anyway). I just took my time to build a relationship with him while letting him know that I respected his turf. If I’m in a hurry and forget the rules, and he thinks he's being disrespected, he reverts to Chickensquatch and lets me know who the boss hoss of the biddy barn, is. Love that big guy!

 Eggs are now 10 dollars per dozen in these parts! Yikes!! The Ol’ Rancher recalls when eggs were 5 cents or less per egg! Early boomers remember things like that, don’tcha know.  In fact, in ’68, I recall the breakfast special at one restaurant was 88 cents! Add a 10 cents for a cup of coffee and you had breakfast for under a buck!  Those were the days!

Nevertheless, after pondering the matter a bit, it was concluded that, when you account for inflation and such, today’s prices are quite a bit less impactful on our (old) gray matter and fewer brain cells are singed. 

The year I was born (1949), eggs were 70 cents per dozen. That relates to at least 7 bucks per dozen in today's currency (close enough since CNN isn't checking with me for any accurate information). In 1969, eggs were 62 cents per dozen or about 5 dollars per dozen today. The price had gone down but down even further when you consider inflation at that time. A half-gallon of milk was about 63 cents in ‘69. A half-gallon of milk in ’49 was 42 cents. When you account for inflation, you can get a gallon of milk for about half the same relative price (largely due to artificial price control on milk and milk products). So, the cost for milk has gone down by more than 50%. I can easily recall buying milk in 1970 for one dollar per gallon at a local mart. That's about 8 dollars in today's coin. 

In ’69, a 10lb sack of spuds was about 82 cents. That’s about 6 bucks in today’s money. Today, I can buy 10lbs of taters for 2.99 just about any grocery store in town. That’s a “savings” of 60% or so. In any case here at the rancho, though it’s a lot of work and expense, having a bountiful supply of home-grown eggs is such a deal!.

Doggie update: 

Fuzz doggie dog is recovering and back to normal now. He had been hit by a car a few weeks ago. That slowed him down quite a bit but he's romping around as usual now. That's a relief seeing that the neighbors have lost at least 4 dogs that I can think of. He's his bouncy self again and that's an answer to prayer! 

Weather report: 

Well....we're all wishin’ and a’hopin’, hopin’ and a’prayin’ (thank you, Dusty Springfield - 1964) that it would be a regular/normal rainy season. We had a few splatters of moisture (aka "mad rain") and a couple of days where it actually rained enough to measure. Connie the Canner was advised that I needed to wash the car and she needed to hang her wash on the clothesline. Then, we needed to make sure that all of our tarped or covered items were uncovered so that it appeared that we were totally unprepared for rain. I'm convinced that we would soon have thunder squalls within a few hours and get 2 inches of rain, snow, sleet, and hail. So far, we just have a dirty van. 

Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo (aka “Dos Acres”): home of Rancho Ran, the world's least-most greatest authority: home of the Yo-Yo  twins and  three ducks that we try to keep in a row (one of which is retarded): home of Connie the Canner, the world's greatest side-kook and CEE (Chief of Everything Else): where the air smells and where alliteration reigns supreme: where being modern is optional and where there are no slaves to fashion: where the eggs are always mostly fresh: where things can get...interesting: where it's all news to me and where...you just never know.

Feliz cumpleaños en enero

Happy New Year and Greetings and welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for January! This month's issue is not on time. I've got a memo in with the rancho bosso so we'll see how that turns out. Things are still rather hectic around here, though. We’re busier than General Custer on June 25^th, 1876.

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the finally-sort-of-green foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. This is our rainy season but someone forgot to tell Mother Nature. We've had about enough rain to keep the rivers from drying out but, that's about all (1.59” since July 1, 2024).  We still have hope that El Niño will intervene and dump some agua viva on us. Two “atmospheric rivers” hit the west coast but we didn't get enough rain to fill a small creek. At least the aloe vera plants aren’t complaining. Anyway, thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo happy huevos industrial complex.

Click on pics to enlarge

Speaking of huevos, we were pretty much floored when we saw the price of eggs at a local store. $7.98 for a dozen eggs. Four years ago, you could get a flat of 36 for that price (or less!)! This isn't even the most expensive place in town! The most expensive was at "Save-mart" where they were priced at over 9.00! If this keeps up, eggs prices will be like they were in the early gold mining towns where a single fresh egg was selling for the equivalent of a day's wage! 

Truly, we are quite pleased that we have our own egg supply out back. After taking into account that it's winter time (the hens lay fewer eggs in the winter) and the great amount of wrangling the birds and other ancillary costs, our eggs probably are only slightly less in cost. But, they are fresh, they are organic, they are without hormones et. al., and they are vastly superior in taste and quality than the store-bought ones. Farm fresh eggs are our friends!

I just had to share a picture of this little cutie pullet. She's one of several mixed breed birdies that are simply gorgeous. We have a couple of gray pullets that are also very pretty little critters. 

Dos eggies. This is an encouraging sign. Some of our pullets are starting to get the message as to why they are being fed so well at the Henhouse Hilton. 

We had a local pump outfit check our well pump and system. We needed them to see if they could help us regain access to all that nice water in the ground that we just love so much. The great news was that, after being here less than an hour, they had us up and running again! A controller box of some sort had to be replaced. The tradesman's name was Art. The guy was quite good and quite personable, and quite professional. He is our hero for the year! They'll send a bill so we can know how many sheckles to toss at them. 

The plumbing in the front is where one of our filters was placed while using the river water. It's been disassembled so that I can clean it/replace it (not sure which yet). In the upper left is the "pitcher pump". If we loose electricity (not likely since we have a back up residential generator), we can always pump water like our great-grandparents did (geee...that sounds like fun).  

Tip O' the day: 

Never trust an electrician with no eyebrows 

And now a word from our sponsor:

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by "Pooky Pearson’s Pernolated Padmium Peskers". Now, these are the best “Pernolated Padmium Peskers” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Pernolated Padmium Pesker” anywheres! And, folks, they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of " Pooky Pearson’s Pernolated Padmium Peskers" at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Rapid Mart,  Speedy Mart, Save Mart, Quick Mart, and all those marts where those guys have them towels wrapped around their heads. Tell'em the Ol' Rancher sent you. You'll be glad you did!

Holy crab salad, Batman! It's January! And, it's already two weeks past Christmas! Doesn't that just tangle your tutu?! I really don't think Superman can keep up with how fast time flies! Movin' along...

Things are sailing along fairly smoothly here at the ol' rancho. We're taking things as the come though we didn't expect so many things to come so quickly. The good news is that we're still prospering and  in good health. That's' a plus. Nothing major to deal with that I can think of  (I don't think the failure of our well pump to be a major issue). I wonder if a whole lot of non-major issues equals one major issue? Naw. 

Christmas: We had a nice unremarkable Christmas this year. We just stayed home, rested, and counted gift cards (gift cards...are our friends). It was comfortable day of getting anything that I needed to get done while wearing my bed pants (my coveralls helped with that when I had to tend the chickens). There were a couple of days of minimal activity which included the massacre of a couple of our gift cards. Hey; you can't celebrate Christmas on an empty stomach, eh? It was "que sera sera" for a couple of days then we had to get back in the saddle and try to keep Rancho Relaxo from free falling (close call).

Happy New Years and Happy Birthday: 

The new year brought another birthday to the forefront for the Ol' Rancher. That makes for 76 circuits  around the sun. Heap many moons, too. It was a nice birthday with a bit of time off (I was hoping for at least two bits). Then, it was back to the salt mine. 

One of our dear friends who has the same birthday, invited us to participate in her birthday party on New Year's Eve. It was being held concurrently with the annul NYE bash at the Veteran's Memorial Hall on W. Olive Avenue in P'ville. I hadn't been out there in quite awhile. I had actually been part of the same band on this same exact occasion several years ago.

I was invited to sit in with the band and got to play a couple of numbers. I was deeply humbled to get to play with them. For one thing,  I was really rusty: so rusty that I was afraid that I would be getting rust dust all over everybody. That wasn't what happened but it was a close call. We all had a good time! 

Hamming it up: During that day of trying to rest, the Ol' Rancher had the opportunity to tinker with his Ham Radio toys. Not much operating was accomplished but it was fun to construct a couple of "Tiger Tails". "Tiger Tails" are  counterpoises used for making your HT (handy talkie) more efficient. HT's usually have a "rubber ducky" antenna. But, it's only a quarter wave resonator. By adding the "Tiger Tail, you make your antenna (electrically) a half-wave dipole/resonator. 

I recall being in Longview, WA and testing my HT to see if it could break the 2 Meter (VHF) repeater 42 miles away in Astoria, OR. In fact, it would not reach that far. However, after adding the "Tiger Tail", it did a good job of making contact with the repeater. So, I'm a big fan of "Tiger Tails". 

So, the ol' hamster cut and soldered a few of them for his Ham and FRS/GMRS HT's (walkie squawkies). 

Chickening Report: There are a lot of positives about wrangling inordinately stupid, dirty, messy, impolite, sometimes aggressive, indiscrete, and ravenously hungry (even after being fed). "Chicken TV" is one of those positives. You get to see chickens going all kinds of crazy things like deciding to pick a fight for no good reason. 

They can be funny as a barrel of monkeys but particularly so when they can free range. Connie the Canner and I would just sit outside and watch the bird herd at the end of the day as they made their way towards the coop.  Barney Fife wasn't as hilarious as our birdies! Sadly, we learned the hard and costly way that that dynamic couldn't be allowed due to the large number of predators. 

One of the funny things is watching the cockerels learning to crow. These birds come up with the most hilarious renditions of crowing that you can imagine. You can tell that they're trying to mimic Henry Hen Banger II who definitely has his crowing act together. It sort of like teaching your 2 year old how to say "refrigerator". It's close but no "ceegar". They're a hoot!

But, for all the upsides, there are downsides. One of them concerns how and what to feed them (especially since the price of chicken feed doubled in the previous four years). We have been favored and blessed to have a local supermarket (whose owner is a friend and with whom I went to high school) give us the trimmings from their produce department. Can you say "green leafy things"? We get as many as 17 large boxes twice a week! That makes for happy healthy layers! 

Here's a downside: do the math. Let's say that we only get 8 boxes twice per week. That's 16 boxes per week. Just how long does it take to have your back yard filled with boxes? Answer: not long. What happens if you are unable to haul all the boxes off in a timely fashion (remembering that it does get rather busy around here)? Yeah....it gets crowded and messy.

Part of that is because not all of the boxes are empty. The birds can't eat citrus items, peppers, onions, potatoes, yams, hard squash, (there are lots of them), and other produce that's impossible to peck. "Somebody" has to break down all of the boxes (dozens of them), load them up, then haul them to the local transfer station/dump. That's a lot of work that can't be always be done because the trailer is in use or because our schedule won't allow the time it takes. If that isn't enough to overbake your brownies, our dump is only open two days per week. Swell. On the bright side, things look great around here when that "someone" cleans all of that up, rakes, and spiffs up the place. 

Booting up: booting up is supposed to be simple: you sit down, pull your house shoes off, and pull your boots on. But, what happens if you're old and not paying attention (I call it "focus interuptus")? Let me 'splain that to you. 

Guess who didn't notice that he had left his galoshes standing up in their regular "galoshes place"? Yeah. You got it. And, just who was it that forgot to notice that it had rained a little bit the night before. Yeah. You got it. Well, can you guess what happened when the Ol' Rancher pulled his boot on that morning so he could slop the chickens? His foot was met with what seemed like a gallon of cold water! Great. 

When it's 6:30 AM and there's chores to do, you can't just wait for you boots and socks to dry (especially since it's 42 degrees outside). So, the boots were dumped over and freed from their load of water and "Mr. Wet Socks" (maybe I can start my own Saturday morning kiddy show since I took lessons from "Captain Kangaroo") plodded into the cold morning with less than a sparkling attitude. Note to self: pay attention, Ran. 

Freeze it again, Ran! Not long ago (but longer than the other day), I had to pull one of ice boxes apart because the lower section wasn't getting cold. That entailed pulling all the stuff out and getting to work to restore its functionality. The channel between the top and bottom had frozen over so it had to be thawed out again. 

Well, guess what? You guessed it. It froze over again! This time, the Ol' Rancher had a plan. Instead of pulling all the stuff out (rancho law: whatever stuff is pulled out must be stuffed back in), only the freezer section was cleared. Then, a great idea was sparked. Just when the ol' trusty blow dryer was about to be readied for action, the idea struck that I could use the rancho heat gun (which is usually used for heat shrink tubing but which can be used for stripping paint and such other great feats of labor saving) and get the job done quicker and easier. Being rather convenience oriented, there really wasn't a second thought. So, out came the heat gun; the ice was in deep trouble. 

The ice quickly gave way to the searing heat but much caution had to be employed. At the last second, it was noticed that the channels leading from the top to the lower box were insulated with shaped plastic foam (the same stuff which is used in making those cheapie ice chests). That stuff will melt almost as quickly as the ice if one is not mindful. After only singeing the foam, the ice was thoroughly gone.

After some quick re-stuffing of frozen goodies, the tools were stored and the ice box repairman took a break. 

 Fuzzy's close call: Three days ago, when we came home, Abbie greeted us but Fuzzy didn't. That was an instant alert that not all was well. I called for Fuzz Ball and he didn't come. I then headed to the back porch where I found him on his large couch pillow. He had a small amount of blood on his nose so I thought that maybe he had been in a fight. He was content to just rest and be left alone so I went back inside. 

We had to go back out to the car to unload some stuff and the neighbors approached us and advised that Fuzzy had been hit by a car. That wasn't good news at all. He has an electric perimeter collar that only allows him to go so far then it will shock him. So, why was he out in the street 75' past his perimeter? It seems that his fur had grown since I had given him a haircut sometime ago. The contacts on his collar weren't making contact with his skin. Since he didn't feel restricted, he started doing his natural "doggie  thing" which is to hunt around town. 

He's recovering well but is limping because his left hind leg has been injured. It doesn't appear to be broken so his recovery looks good for now. 

Quick update: he's doing much better now. He's starting to act like his usual self. His limp isn't quite as bad as it was. He'll be OK. 

Burger, fries, and a coke combo.

The other day (when lots of things happen around here), we stopped at "Burger Kings" for lunch. The local store takes expired coupons so we're sure to get a good deal when we have to feed the old folks. Get this....even with the significant coupon discount, the "two-fer" Whopper combo meal deal was right up against 20 bucks (25 without the coupon). 

We also went to another burger place in town that we hadn't been to in a few years. Again, we ordered the burger combo meal. I suppose we shouldn't have suffered "sticker shock" when the tab was within easy reach of 30 dollars!! This messes with the minds of the old folks who easily remember purchasing a burger combo meal for less than a dollar! It was a good thing that we didn't order anything fancy (with cheese or such). 

Due to the high prices and how thrifty we are, we may cease knocking over these places. It's just as well as I was turning into the Incredible Bulk. Reckon I can wait to be discovered by Hollywood (or at least a comic book writer). Maybe I have another super power that I wasn't aware of. 

Ham Report: Lots of good news this time around. One thing is that my tower is up! It still needs to be guyed down but at least it's vertical!! The plan is to use it as an anchor for other antennas so that they'll be up high enough to be effective. There is a hope to mount a dual-band (VHF/UHF) vertical on it like the one that's mounted on the house almost directly over my office. Also, it will be the anchor for my 105' off-center fed Windom dipole antenna. 

If the mounting isn't too difficult, the plan is to mount my 40' mast to our 10' tall 4" pipe mounted near the front driveway. It was a mount for a basketball hoop at one time but it never got used so I took the hoop down. It appears that the mast will slide down inside the pipe with a snug fit. That'll help in keeping it vertical. There's still the matter of guying it down properly so it doesn't wake us up in the middle of the night during a windstorm of some kind. It may be possible to insulate/isolate it from the mounting pipe. If that's the case, I'll use it as a vertical antenna. We'll see. All I need is...a day off. 

Because of the current radio wave propagation dynamic being on the "high cycle", the HF (high frequency) bands are "open" and are facilitating what some folks call "skip". This is really great at any time but it's really super when you are (purposely) running a low powered transceiver. Even transceivers with just a few watts of output can reach out for great distances. 

My low-powered rig is a Yeasu FT-817 with 5 watts output. That's roughly the equivalent in performance to a CB radio. Nothing fancy here. The antenna for now is a 19' CB vertical tuned with an MFJ-949E antenna tuner. 

So, it was really neat when I made a contact with a ham operator in Kansas City, KS who had a mobile ham rig in his pickup truck.  A few days later I made a contact in the Solomon Islands 6,100 miles from here and using 5W output (about the same power output as a stock CB radio which is 4W)! That's the marvel of the 10 Meter ham band when it's open for business. 

Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo (aka “Dos Acres”): home of Rancho Ran, the world's least-most greatest authority: home of the Yo-Yo  twins and  three ducks that we try to keep in a row (one of which is retarded): home of Connie the Canner, the world's greatest side-kook and CEE (Chief of Everything Else): where the air smells and where alliteration reigns supreme: where being modern is optional and where there are no slaves to fashion: where the eggs are always mostly fresh: where things can get...interesting: where it's all news to me and where...you just never know.

RANCHO CRAZIO BUSYO

 

Greetings and welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for Decembre. This month's issue is not on time just like the previous 180 months or so. Things are still rather hectic around here, too. We're busier than a one-legged rodeo clown. 

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the hopin'-for- green foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. This should be our last month of drought. In fact, it's supposed to rain tomorrow (though ony about a 50% chance). And, we're mighty grateful for the second "mad rain" we got not long ago. There's a rumor that the local Indian casino spent a lot of money on a "rain dancer" and a cloud seeder. So, there's hope, eh? Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo happy huevos industrial complex.

Note: click on the pictures to enlarge.

A couple of months ago, this exact corner was the location of 8' tall skeletons, ogres, ghouls, monsters, and such. Why aren't Santas 8' tall? 

Golden Corral W. Ming Ave. Bakersfield

We hadn't been to a GC in several years so it was decided to just up and get outta Dodge for part of a day. So, we mounted the Coop DeVille and headed to Bakersfield to knock over our favorite smorgy. 

The main goal was to try to sample at least a small amount of most of the delicacies offered. Come to find out, there so many of them that, instead, I had to be satisfied just eating until I made money. You'll want to note that, when you over-eat, a great deal of your blood supply rushes to your stomach so that your brain won't be able to figure out why you ate until you ached.

That somnolent condition (post prandial fatigue) called for an immediate nap after we exited the building. There was a short dead-end road adjacent to the place so we just found some shade and laid back the seats. Neither of us could move for about an hour. That was great because I could just see us getting a ticket for "DWS" (driving while stuffed). 

 

Wanna see my noodles? This is our "Gonna cook a huge pot o' chili one of these days" pot. Since we weren't planning on having a huge pot (or a non-huge pot) of chili any time soon, it was put to good use. The other day (when lots of things happen around here), one of our large boxes of stored spaghetti noodles was compromised when it got wet. Since Connie the Canner disallows contaminated food stuffs in our house, we purposed to do what we always do with anything we can't eat: give it to the chickens. This is the second of probably 4 pots of noodles headed to the henhouse. 

Chickens, being ravenous omnivores that they are, absolutely attacked the ol' noodle flinger when he entered the Hen House Hilton. When noodles are added to the amazingly varied diet our biddies are pampered with, it's little wonder our eggs are quite superior in quality. 

This big beauty is a deHavilland DHC-4 Caribou converted to the DHC-5 Buffalo (upgrading the piston radial engine for a turboprop). It's used to haul skydivers locally. 

This is the dawn that greeted me when I went out to feed the chickens this morning. 

Tip O' the day: 

"Consumerism may be vulgar, but it beats hunger and poverty seven days a week" FEE  (Foundation for Economic Education)

And now a word from our sponsor:

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It's December already! And, it's only two weeks until Christmas! Doesn't that just beat the thunder out of you?! Anyway....moving along........

Rancho Relaxo Report

Well…we finally did it. We took a day off so we could get some work done around here. Boy, oh, boy, was there a lot to do! 

Chillin’ with Ran, the Reefer Man, or Cool, Dude!

Not long ago (but longer than the other day), our coolerator (thank you, Chuck Berry) was freezing on the top but the bottom part was not getting the message that it was "cool to be cool" . Great. Just what we needed, a stupid cold-free refrigerator.

The presenting issue was a common one so Ol’ Ran, the Reefer Man (the other reefer, silly), grabbed one flat and one Phillips screwdriver, nut drivers, and a big ol’ LED light, and went to work. Of course, to be able to work on the dang thang, you have to empty the contents and the glass shelves so….that was fun  (the freezer was stuffed to the gunnels).Thankfully, there were three big ice chests available. They were immediately deployed and stuffed full of frozen goodies (found a few hidden treats, too!).

After denuding the ice box, the inside back wall covers (upper and lower) were unbuttoned and removed. The upper cover was the problem because the port between the freezer part and reefer part was completely occluded. The remedy was to take the cover to the sink and run hot water over the blockage until it was free of all ice. That didn't take long. 

And, since you have the machine open and available, shouldn't you just up and scrub the thing down while you're at it? Yep, you should. Ol' Ran donned his "Scrubber Dude" hat and grabbed a bucket and some rags. By the time the scrubbing was done, it looked a lot like a new ice box. Connie the Canner was mighty pleased with the outcome. 

After that, all the parts and pieces were reassembled and the freezer contents were returned to their rightful place. Some of the reefer stuff had been warm and/or out for too long so they were tossed. 

Fun fact: during the first part of WW2, aircraft manufacturers switched to Phillips head screws. Their production rate was boosted by more than 20% because the mechanics didn’t have to stop and find and get another screw all of the time. They saved a ton of money, too. 

Chickening report

Our dirty birdies are doing well and are happy and healthy. They should be; they eat better than half the world's population! Seriously! They eat fruits, veggies, and grains for practically every meal! They also have fresh water daily and there are many humans on the earth that can't say that (I'm most sorry to say, of course). 

There is an issue during the cooler months, though, and that's the matter of the coop not drying out if too much water/rain has been introduced. "Someone" (can you spell "blame shifting"?) didn't notice that the  water hose wasn't completely shut off and the forward coop flooded. Great. During the summer, that isn't an issue since it would be dry in only a few days. Not so during the cooler season. 

This means that the Ol' Rancher has to don his trusty rubber boots/galoshes every time he deals with the bird herd. Since chickens are not at all a tidy bunch, they stomp through the mud and everything....as in everything....in the coop gets muddy. Also, mud is slick and if a person (e.g. an old rooster rouster like me) isn't acutely mindful, he becomes Sonja Henny but without the style. This leads to a mystical experience of simultaneously becoming one with with the mud and coming into unity with limitless pain (ask me how I know).  

This dynamic of caution precipitates yet another practice and that's the one I call "The Chicken Coop Shuffle". Being cautious because of the mud also means taking extra care to not step on the cluckers. Most of birds are actually pullets and cockerels (the newest of them being fairly small). These little birds can flit and dart all over the place and, because they are fairly tame, they aren't afraid to get under foot. To avoid mashing one of them, I've gotten into the practice of  only taking small steps and shuffling along the ground. There have been a few squawks but no injuries so far. 

Water is our friend

A month ago, our well pump motor decided to croak. We immediately called the local long-time pump guy for help. It was cool since I knew him and some of his relatives. Well, well, well....he's no longer in the well business. Swell. It took awhile to search around and find another company but there's a well company out of Fresno who will be glad to help us. But, it'll cost us a couple of Benjamins to have them take a look. 

Thankfully, though we can afford a couple of hun to do that, we also have options. It's possible that the bladder tank pressure switch may be faulty so it'll be checked prior to calling the professionals. In any case, the pump isn't working. 

Now, to the good part. You would think that, because the pump was dead, we would have no water. Ah, but the Ol' Rancher is "Joe Backup" and was ahead of the game. We have a dedicated irrigation water supply that directs Tule River water to our "ditch" that runs around the hill above our place. So, when we had our 2,200 gallon water tank (used for fire suppression) installed, I had it and the ditch water plumbed into the main water line from the pump house. 

No, the big tank won't be used for potable water (I have no need for green goo in our water lines) but it may be used in a "pinch" if we need non-potable water for whatever the exigency is. However, the ditch water is just clean river water that only needs to be filtered. That's why there are three filters used between it and the house. So, the old folks have plenty of water to go around. We do use bottled water for drinking as well. No worries. The pump should be up and running soon (we're not livin' on Tulsa time so only God knows when that could be). 

Side note: we are saving about 150 dollars per month on electricity to run our pump. I had no idea! 

Movin’ On or Mom’s Gotta Go

A week ago, my  96 year old mother moved into "Sierra Hills" assisted care facility. Due to a mis-communication, she wasn't ready when we arrived with "Wooley Pulley", our  5' x 8' stake-side trailer (with 48" removeable sides) . That meant the, instead of taking only a couple of hours to make the move (after church), we were busy for six hours. We started at 1:30 PM and finished at 7:30 PM. I don’t mind being the life of the party but truly hate being the wreck of the party. It took a couple of days to recover from the entire day which began at 5AM. 

She's now settling in and doing well. There are folks out there that she knows and others, get this, she knows their...parents! Lots to talk about (and you just know how much mothers love to talk, eh?). 

A couple of "kids" I went to high school with were there, too. It was great to see them. But....why are they so... old? Oh...yeah.. 

Turkey day

We had a peaceful and uneventful Thanksgiving Day. The old folks just stayed at home and "un-laxed" (thank you Amos and Andy). I don't recall even getting out of my bed pants. The rest was greatly needed even though it wasn't nearly enough to coax us back to normal. 

Connie the Cooker made a traditional meal including the dead turkey and all the trimmings. We had leftovers for days but that's a good thing. Leftovers are our friends! Our doggies were treated with some of the offal and some of our leftovers. They committed to stay as along was we treated them like royalty. 

How to fall out of bed without you don't even half try

I've experienced some strange things in my life but few are as strange as what happened recently. I was dreaming that I was on recon patrol in WW2 (I'm a WW2 history buff) and was watching a smallish (40' ?) Japanese  troop transport boat land nearby. As the leader of the platoon started toward me, I began to fall back trying to not be discovered. As they drew nearer, I felt myself actually falling backward. It was at that point I exited the dream. Simultaneously, there was a sense of falling, a sharp pain on the left side of my head, and then an immediate noise of a human body making contact with the floor. 

Being somewhat dazed, and having been violently ripped from a deep sleep and a really interesting dream (and not knowing if I would be captured. Dang!), it dawned on my that I had fallen out of bed! That was a first! It took a few seconds to regain a grip on reality. 

There was another dream that I remembered from when I was about 4 years old. I was next to a creek and needing to urinate. So, I just unloaded into the creek (what a handy gadget to have on a picnic, eh?). But, it wasn't the creek; it was my bed! Lesson learn; don't trust dreams!

But, this? This was a real shocker! My attention was immediately drawn to the pain in the temporal region of my noggin. After palpating the area, it was determined that there was no significant denting (my grandmother called me "lumber head". How did she know?!). And, since there was only pain and no blood, there was no problem. What had happened was, when I fell from fantasy land back into the real world, my head smacked the night stand which was a 6" below the level of our bed (which is up high on stands since I park my guitars under it). 

After letting the dust settle and after counting parts and pieces, it was determined that it would be OK to attempt to hoist the sleepy pile of injured flesh from ground level to see if there would be any dizziness. Nope; no dizziness. That's good news. 

In the future, I think it would be great if I stopped stalking Japanese soldiers and just stick with shooting down Messerschmitts and such. 

Anyway, may all y'all have a very merry Christmas and happy New Year! Grace and peace be multiplied unto you. The blessing of the Lord come upon you and overtake you. The Lord compass you about with favor as with a shield.  

Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo (aka “Dos Acres”): home of Rancho Ran, the world's least-most greatest authority: home of the Yo-Yo  twins and  three ducks that we try to keep in a row (one of which is retarded): home of Connie the Canner, the world's greatest side-kook and CEE (Chief of Everything Else): where the air smells and where alliteration reigns supreme: where being modern is optional and where there are no slaves to fashion: where the eggs are always mostly fresh: where things can get...interesting: where it's all news to me and where...you just never know.