Rancho Julio Extraña

Welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for June. This month's issue is much closer to being on time but things are still rather hectic around here and the dust usually never settles. We’re still busier than a coon dog with a pound of hot dogs and three buttermilk biscuits.   

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the pining-for-green golden foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. We've had no, and expect no, rain for a long time. Our rainy season is gonzo so we don't get our hopes up at all. The other side of the high Sierras did get a couple of thunderstorms 30 miles east of us which will keep the fish happy in the Kern River. The Tule River is stocked with trout and Lake Success is full to the brim thanks to a new spillway  (our tax dollars at work). The plan is to go fishing on my next...day off.

We've been spared any major concerns so, tired as we may be, we're quite happy to be here with all body parts in place and at least functioning  (to whatever slow degree). The chickens are laying, the dogs are barking, the Freestar is running like new, it's yard sale season, so life is good. Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo happy huevos industrial complex. 

Click on pictures to enlarge them

We needed to go to our hangar at the airport so I stopped by here when I saw this little cutie sitting outside a familiar hangar. This is a "straight back" 1961 Cessna 172 that has the four cylinder 180hp Lycoming O-360 upgrade with the constant speed prop. It came stock with the six cylinder 145 hp Continental O-300 and a fixed pitch prop. It's also the first year that 172's came with a swept tail. This is one of the sister ships to the 172 I used to rent from "Del-Air" (that's their sign on the hangar in the background). Adding the extra 35 hp makes that ship really want to fly. They are difficult to see but the wing has "wing fences". These, along with the "bat wing" wing tip additions, help maintain stability when the airplane is nearing stall speed. I think the stall speed is lowered a couple of knots, too. While not a true "STOL" aircraft, these are really nice additions to the plane. I loved flying that fast and sweet plane. One favorite place we flew to was Oceano Airport (L52): only one hour away in the 172. I vaguely recall posting that trip on the blog many years ago. That 172 was sold several months ago and "Del-Air" no longer rents aircraft. Bummer. 

This is one of my yard sale/estate sale finds. It's a vintage Emerson MBR-1 Short Wave Radio. It's an extremely capable receiver which sports Short Wave 4MHZ - 12MHZ, Aircraft Band, VHF Marine Band, AM Broadcast, FM Broadcast, CB Band (11M/27Mhz, and Weather Band (VHF 162.4-162.55). It also receives the defunct Television Band (analog).  Power is AC/DC which means that it's portable by using 6 D cell batteries. It also has a direction finder antenna on the top and PA capability so you can plug in a microphone and use it as an amplifier. There is an auxiliary antenna jack in the front. I don't have room for it so it just sold on Craig's List. I have other rigs that can do what this one can do. 

We saw the smoke from this fire in the distance as we departed Porterville on Highway 190 and headed home. When we came around the curve just past "Success Market" (where the "Lakeside Market" used to be), we saw the source  of the fire and a few CalFire rigs on scene. It was a well-developed grass fire. Equipment was still rolling in when we got there. 

For whatever reason, the FD hadn't blocked the road yet. The fire is having it's way for the moment but that wouldn't last long. 

Here's one of the Grumman S-2FT fire bombers from the Forestry fire attack base at the Porterville Municipal Airport. When he flew over, things got interesting for the Minnicks. We got bombed with fire retardant! Getting hit by a 500-gallon water balloon was definitely a first! 

For the ex-pats, the building to the left is the old gas station that has seen numerous incarnations over the previous decades. It has been a storage yard and a tree nursery but it has sat forlorn for many years at a time. Lately, there has been some activity but I can't attest to what it means. The little gazebo and the fence in front are recent additions. Looks like someone's BBQ grill may have gotten loose and started a fire. 

Here is the residual fire retardant being swept aside by our windshield wipers. The red stuff consists of a bunch of phosphates which can act like a fertilizer.  It usually just goes away if you wash it off or even just neglect it. The sun will make it fade away, too. 

Here's what a "fire proof" car looks like. It got washed off the next day. The old folks were too tired to deal with it at the time. It's harmless to the paint. You'll notice that the driver's window is not red. That's because it was down while yours truly was taking pictures and not watching the sky for fire bombers. My arm was wet and a tad red so it's fire proof too. 

Good thing that this red stuff isn't overspray! 

This is "Big Bertha" the freeze dryer. She up and decided to be "Big Headache" so she needed an attitude adjustment. This is all 200 pounds of her neatly boxed up and awaiting a FedEx pick-up truck. It was "long batching" and it couldn't be resolved with troubleshooting methods. So, it's off to "Harvest Right" in the Beehive State, Utah. She'll be gone about a month. She'll be missed because this is harvest season when Rancho Relaxo is flush with green and fruity things. Our chickens will make sure that most of it won't go to waste. 

Here's the latest addition to the family courtesy of local ham, Eddie, KB6BK It's colloquially  referred to as a "skeleton antenna". More officially, it's a stacked 14 element Yagi VHF 2 meter beam antenna. If you look closely, the driven element is a "square  magnetic loop" with a gamma match. The single reflector element is to the rear of the driven element while the director elements are forward of the driven element. It's an improvement on the standard "Yagi" beam antenna. 

This is a seriously high-gain antenna. If possible  (i.e. if the land lady, Connie the Canner, doesn't object), it will be mounted on the roof with the 5/8 wave 11 meter vertical and the dual-band "Comet" VHF-UHF vertical. If storm clouds arise, it will be mounted on the crank-up tower at the back of the barn. That would be nice but I have yet to establish my radio shack in the allocated room upstairs. But, I can feed it with a 125' of coax from my office which is the temp shack for now. The only concern is that low-loss coax will need to be used and that stuff is expensive. If that ends up being the case, then the alternate beam antenna, an 11 element 2 meter beam, may be mounted on the roof since it's only half as ugly as this one and Connie the Canner will only be half as upset. I may use an antenna switch, too, since I'll be feeding both antennas with whatever main VHF transceiver being used. The HF transceiver will feed my 105' off-center fed multi-band sloper dipole, one end of which will be mounted to the tower. A switch will be used to change to the HF vertical on the roof.  

Tip O’ The Day

“Some of us got it and some of us ain’t” (Roy Clark)

And now, a word from our sponsor:

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by “Molly Mae’s Mallitoted Muddermasts”. Now, these are the best “Mallitoted Muddermasts” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Mallitoted Muddermasts” anywheres! And, folks, they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of “Molly Mae’s Mallitoted Muddermasts” 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 chicharrones, Batman! It’s June already!! Doesn’t that just make you want to hock your "Vita-Mix"?! And, it's only 202 days until Christmas!! *SIGH*. Moving long to the Rancho Relaxo report......

We're still spring cleaning here at the rancho (last spring's cleaning, of course). One chore was to spiff up the stairs. That means that we had to break out the Orrick XL which is the smaller version of the big Orrick rug sucker. I call it the “mini-sucker” while the larger one is “the big sucker”. So, it was my job to start sucking. Fortunately, I didn’t suck at vacuuming the stairs so Connie the Canner was pleased with the all the sucking I did.  I did such a good job that I didn't even have to redo the job. That would have sucked. 

Kin folks at Rancho Relaxo

Because of everyone's busy schedule and because of many of our relatives live far away (1,000-1,700 miles is pretty far), we don't get to seem them very often. So, you can imagine how pleased we were to have the opportunity to have Connie's brother, Chris, his wife, Carol, and his son, Jim stay with us for a couple of days! They were heading back to Texas where they had recently moved to. They had lived in Corona, CA for decades prior to the move. 

For dinner, we simply had to knock over the local hamburger joint, "The Hamburger Stand", in Springville. The food is great there and so are the folks running the place. It wasn't intentional but we actually closed the place down. Lot's of yakking going on. 

That night, after the burger feast, though they were still on "Tulsa Time" (CST - they live not far from San Antonio), we talked until after midnight. That's also way past my and Connie's bedtime (PST) so, after all of the great fellowship, we all called it a night. 

For breakfast, we knocked out some of our famous "Rancho Eggs" from the vaunted "Henhouse Hilton", toast, fried taters (much like potatoes but with lots more TLC [grease] involved), fried pork belly (think bacon or salt pork but thicker and more like pork steak) and coffee for those who were so inclined. It's par for the course for the old folks to stay close to the southern style of breakfast when we can, don'tcha know.  

They were on a timeline so the morning was gone only to quickly. It was "Adios" and huggies all around then they drove off into the clear, bright, sunny day. It was super to see them again since we hadn't seen them in so long. 

Our hope is to see them again when head back to Texas sometime this fall when we finally get a.....day off. Connie's two other brothers, Steve and Roger, both live next door to Chris and Carol so it'll be a family reunion of sorts. We're looking for the great fellowship but also the great Texas food! Roger is known for his great (and I mean great!) cook outs at the his airport in Kingsbury!

More on that on another posting. But, the Ol' Rancher would love to just eat his way through Texas! The first place we'll start is the "Grist Mill" in Gruene (near New Braunfels) on the Guadalupe River. That place is unreal!! When we were there the first time, they almost had to grab a block and tackle to get me out of there! The food and service was over the top super and everything was pure TEXAS! 

Another place is similarly super. It's "Cold Springs Restaurant" about 5 miles away from the "Grist Mill" and it's also in New Braunfels. Then there is "The Market" BBQ house in Luling 11 miles east of Kingsbury. That's a place that is hard to leave even if you are stuffed to gunnels with BBQ'd meats! Folks haul their hunger on down there from Austin (40  miles) and San Antonio (50 miles)! They are quite famous! I had actually read about this place in a travelogue magazine a couple of years prior getting to make a greasy mess there. That was in California at the time! Who woulda thunk that, a couple of years later,  they would have a new biggest fan?! Oh, man! 

It's difficult to describe just how good these places in Texas are! Whether it's steak and fries, catfish and fries, BBQ'd brisket and sausages, or just a big ol' huge hamburger and fries; you just can't get any better chow, no how! Ain't no way your backbone and belly will be bumping into each other after a gnash fest at any one of them (thank you, Guy Clark!)!

This is to not even mentioning the rest  of the many great places in Seguin and all points within a 25 mile radius! If we're not mindful on our vacation, it'll take a month just getting to the Texas/Oklahoma border, another month to get to Tulsa, and then another month in Tulsa! In Tulsa, we may start with "Goldies" burger place then "Famous Dave's" and "Ike's Chili" after that! Whooooo doggies! 

Chickening: A  Real Wild Time or The Last Feral Hen 

 A while back (which is longer than "not long ago" which is longer than "the other day" but not as long as "some time ago"), we had four feral hens who showed up at the coop. There wasn't so much as a clue as where they came from but it's likely that they escaped from a good home. They showed up every day for a couple of months. Being the bird brain that the Ol’ Rancher is, chicken scratch was tossed around to keep them interested enough to so that they may become tame enough to enroll in our egg laying club. 

One day, one of the birds was coaxed to the front door which was opened up just enough to encourage her to hop in. She did and quickly made herself at home. The cutie little bird has now become very comfortable being one of the cackleberry crew. A few minutes later, another bird did the same thing and, she, too, was welcomed in with a slight swish of the foot. That was all that happened that day. But, the next day, a third bird was lured in and she settled in and became a club member, too. 

Now, the fourth bird is another story. She was the wildest one and was a spooky as sparrow on crack. She acted as if a bobcat was within three feet of her at all times. This was despite the fact that I had been somewhat near her many times while tossing scratch around for her. After a month of that, she disappeared. The first thought was that she had succumbed to the local predators. Ah, but this is Rancho Relaxo and you just never know. She then started to sporadically show up for breakfast. Then, while cleaning up the huge pile of boxes in which our produce comes, the feisty little hen was found setting on a bunch of eggs not far from the front door of the coop! It was obvious that she was quite certain that no one would find her. 

It was known from experience that she would not abandon her nest so the next step was easy. She was gently picked up and hauled into the coop and equally gently set down before she could come to. Roosting birds are in a type of torpor unless you mess with their chicks then the fight is on (and don't expect to win). She is still a bit skittish and doesn't feel welcomed and comfortable yet. She's not yet ready to shove in wing-to-wing with the other hogs at the trough. But, there's no doubt that, in time, she'll be just one of the gals. 

What about her eggs? They were infertile and had been there for probably two weeks rotting. So, it was into the trash they went. 

Dump, to the dump, to the dump, to the dump, dump, dump (to the tune of the "William Tell Overture". Singing in E Major not required) 

 When we pick up our produce trimmings, we get from 8 to 16 boxes twice per week. Just exactly what can you do with that many boxes that, by and large, are not configured for anything else but produce? Right: you cut them down and haul them to the dump. 

After loading Wooly Pully to the gunnels with boxes and ratchet strapping them down, it was off to the Springville Transfer Station about a mile east of the rancho. Because the load consisted solely of boxes the job wasn't a back breaker and not even a really good cardio workout. But, this is Rancho Relaxo and things were about to change. 

The next day, it was regular trash time. But, there was a catch and that catch was that the cans were overloaded and didn't have their lids on them when it rained not long ago. The cans were dumped over to help empty them of water (at 8.34lbs per gallon) but a lot of water had soaked into the trash. There are twelve cans but we can only take eight at a time. That was good because each can weighed more than a hundred pounds. 

To help with that muscle-bruising project, our rancho rampo was deployed. It's a two-hinge aluminum ramp that fits nicely at the back of trailer. The elephantine trash cans were walked, dragged, and shoved up the ramp until they were all onboard. Now, that was a full cardio workout, let me tell you! After strapping down the requisite tarp (it costs extra if your load isn't covered), it's break time! 

After the break, it was off to the transfer station where all the trash was hauled off the trailer and into the huge sea-train type containers (after paying the $25.00 fee, first....grumble grumble). It'll be awhile before the Ol' Rancher will be in the mood for that much work again. 

Sale'ing

It's yard sale season but, for whatever reason, we didn't have the usual crop of yard sales popping up on just about every corner. We've managed to pick up a few super deals so far but the number of sales themselves have been pretty sparse. The weather hasn't been all that hot which has extended the season somewhat but folks seem to not have gotten the hint. When the real heat hits, not many people will be braving the ordeal of hosting a yard sale. 

It's Biscuit Time in P'ville or Good gravy! 

When mostly through with our shopping and bill paying list during an early morning jaunt down the hill, we decided to break for breakfast. Connie had the marvelous idea that we should knock over "Carl's Jr.". Well, let me tell you, fellow hound dogs and hound dogesses, much experience has led to the belief that "Carl's Jr." is the joint to go if  your behind in your biscuits and gravy rations! 

Let's give you the back story on this. If you do a bit of homework, you'll note that "Carl's Jr." and "Hardys" is one and the same outfit (think, "Hellmans" and "Best Foods"). Well, this old biscuit chaser lived in Tulsa, OK a couple of times and has been to Texas no few times and has become quite an expert concerning biscuits and gravy. It's not about being picky; it's about being good. Either the dang thang (no relation to the Vietnamese madam of the same name) is good or it's landfill. Thankfully, those places that are still in business have mastered the concept and aim to make sure that their customers return. That's me and that's why, after dining on "Hardys" biscuits no few times, the choice for a B&G breakfast is "Carl's Jr.". He's back!

The "Black Bear" restaurant  is good but only comes close because they're not as dialed in as some places. "Boss Hogg's" in Exeter is a place that shouldn't be forgotten; they're the real deal! They do a great job of it, too, and the service is great! Sadly, not everyone actually knows what a "real" biscuit and what its taste and texture should be. Making biscuits is about the same as trying to interpret which abuela's menudo recipe is the best. That's why it's fun to hunt around for the best one in the area. 

It was almost time to change from the breakfast menu to the lunch menu. That meant that they would have gravy left over and would just have to dump it (oh, how I hate to see good gravy wasted!). So, wanting to do my part to not waste good gravy, when the order was made, I made sure that the guy behind the counter knew that I wanted my biscuits buried in rescued gravy so that they'd be good and dead (I would hate to have one of my biscuits crawl off the plate, wouldn't you?). I figured he wouldn't mine using up the rest of his good gravy on me. He grinned and complied. The order came as requested and with a hot cup of coffee so it ended up being a really fulfilling and enjoyable breakfast that morning. 

When we moved from Rockford, IL back to California in '74, we stopped at a small truck stop in New Mexico. It had been a terribly long time since I had "real" biscuits and gravy and was longing to dig into a big pile of that wonderful stuff. So, without even looking at the menu, I ordered up. The nice server looked at me a little strangely and asked what I ordered. "Biscuits and gravy", was the reply. Guess what? She had never heard of that! Reckon she was one of them Yankees from that far eastern country called "New England". 

 Another shocker on the trip was when stopping for lunch somewhere in Arizona (probably Kingman) Even though I-40 went right by this town, I had to track down a taco! That was really weird. They didn't have a "Taco Bell" yet. 

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 Connie the Canner, the world's greatest side-kook and CEE (Chief of Everything Else); together we are the Yo-Yo  twins who are always forgetting things and having to return to the rancho for something. We are home to our one duck that we try to keep in a row (which is difficult since he's retarded). Our home is where the air always 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 us and where...you just never know.

RANCHO SIN QUACKOS

Welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for Mayl Surprise! This month's issue is almost not on time. Things are still rather hectic around here and we had to reprioritize some things but here we are! We’re still busier than an ant colony with a new dead buffalo. 

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the more-brown-than-green glory-gone foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. We've had another "mad rain"  which is about enough rain for the county to wet my four above-ground garden boxes but not the neighbor's garden. Our rainy season is gonzo so we’re not all that hopeful that we’ll be getting any more rain until next December. There could be a "mad rain" or two when the expected lightning storm hits late in the summer (just thunder, no real rain). Our broad smiles and sighs of relief have become sighs of resignation to the forces of the winds and weather.  Anyway, thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo happy huevos industrial complex. 

Click on the pictures to enlarge them.

Here's my friend, Spook, the gopher snake. He sneaks into the coop and scares the workin' girls if they see him. A real joker, that guy! He usually parks in one or the other bottom corner laying boxes and snoozes off his lunch. This may not be Spook. It could be his identical twin, Slick, who slides in undetected like Spook but stays longer. I can't tell them apart. I usually let him go near a ground squirrel colony so that he can minimalize their population and leave our eggs alone. 

This is some of the remaining "purple lupin" that populates our hills. We never get tired of seeing it. This shot was taken on Wishon Road going from Highway 190 to Wishon Campground above Springville. More on that later. 

Another pic from Wishon Road. Looking south. It's about four scenic miles off Highway 190 to the campground.

This shot would have been much prettier a few weeks ago but the opportunity to get up here never presented itself. It's still a majestic shot of some pretty rugged hills. 

Wanna see my dead fish? The big brother of the one on top slipped off my hook at the last second so I didn't get to haul him home. I will bring my net next time. 

After cleaning them, they sat in the fridge overnight and were fried up in butter the next evening. It has been awhile since I've had trout and Connie the Canner isn't really sure if she's had trout before or not. Anyway, we dined on risotto parmesano and fresh trout and enjoyed it to the max. We're going fishing again....soon!! 

PS. A CA fishing license is $62.90! After accounting for inflation and such, the price has almost doubled. It should be about $40 or so (compared to 1986 when it was $7.50). 

 

Quacks begone! or Don’t Duck! This is Lucky Ducky and Doofus Duck. After having them for quite a while, we decided that they were "useless eaters" (a least he was. She was laying sporadically). Thanks to the previous president, the price of chicken scratch and layer pellets doubled. So, having ornamental ducks around here just wasn't working. I wasn't in the mood to take the "duck l'orange" recipe for a test drive so  other arrangements were made. Thankfully, my cousin, Heather, has a nice rancho in east Porterville. She took them off our hands, bless her heart. It was a bit strange to not hear their quacking and insisting on getting their share of the grits at feed time.  

Tip O’ the Day:

"He that tooteth not his own horn, of the same is he not tooted" (anonymous but probably not Louis Armstrong)

And now, a word from our sponsor:

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by “Toni Tonderlegger’s Torpolated Tombanders”. Now, these are the best “Torpolated Tombanders” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Torpolated Tombanders” anywheres! And, folks, they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of “Toni Tonderlegger’s Torpolated Tombanders” 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 “Fruity Pebbles”, Batman! It’s May!! What happened to the last four months?! We were just getting ready for "spring cleaning" and it's almost summer!! Yowie! Reckon we can just re-label our "spring cleaning" to "summer cleaning". And, it's only 233 days until Christmas!! *SIGH*. We best move on prior to a lengthy, hostile, and lamenting diatribe about how fast the clock is spinning......moving along....

RANCHO RELAXO REPORT

We're managing to do that: move along albeit, somewhat more slowly than what I remember. There seems to be an issue with our respective "earth suits" having debilities. It's apparent that something is making them heavier and heavier. For instance, it takes longer to get up off the couch.  It's almost as if we need to construct a plan in advance on how to stand up in a reasonable amount of time. Know what I mean? And, it's much more difficult to drag the dang thang (not related to the Vietnamese language) out of  the sack in the morning. We're hoping that we won't reach the "Why bother" stage or start thinking that we may need the assistance of a D-9 Caterpillar soon. Obviously, something is amiss. We're even tempted to grab a can of WD-40 but others who suffer the same affliction haven't mentioned its use. Wonder why. 

Evidence points to there being a nefarious loading of lead that has seeped in and gravitated to just the wrong place which makes vertical articulation a lot tougher. We  know this to be true because vertical descension is much quicker than in younger days, too. Up in a long time and down in no time. "Plunk!". After checking all of our pockets for work-out weights, we're left with speculations but it's pretty telling that something's off. C'est la vie.  

Adios, Harvey Henbanger II

Everyone knows that all bad things come to an end. So it was with Harvey. He really wasn’t a big bad bird overall. It’s just that Connie, the egg monitor, wasn’t comfortable entering the coop when Harvey was present (and cocked and loaded). He and I had an agreement: I didn’t mess with him and he didn’t mess with me. Well…most of the time. He wasn’t all that good at keeping treaties. We had a blood covenant but it was only my blood that was used. So, it wasn’t valid, I suppose. Connie had no such agreement, though, which meant that we had to find him a new coop to rule over. 

So, not long ago (when lots of things happen around here), there was an ad posted on “Craig’s List” for 12 of our roosters. The reason is simple; they were “useless” eaters. And, they were banging the brains out of our hens who got no peace at all. Not only that, most of our girls were getting bald on their backs from being ridden so hard and so often. We’re really into peace around here but there just wasn’t any in the coop. Thankfully, the roosters got along fairly well and had pretty much settled into the self-established pecking order. Otherwise, there would have been fried chicken on the menu every Sunday at Rancho Relaxo.

There was a couple from Pixley (about 35 miles SW of here) who contacted us and expressed that they wanted all the birds! No problemo! They came over that day and loaded them up. Upon seeing Harvey, they asked if he was for sale to which I replied, “Yes. He is for sale”. They paid the pesos for him, too, and loaded him up with the other roosters and, "Adios!". C-YA, Harvey!

We still have a couple of roosters who will, I’m sure, keep our ladies entertained but not run ragged. We may want to let one of our gals do her brooder thing so that we can replace older hens. Who knows; we may even raise some (male) meat birds. In any case, there’s peace in the Pecker Palace. 

Big Bertha’s rebellion

A while back (but longer than not long ago which is longer than the other day), Big Bertha, the commercial freeze dryer, started acting up. She was presenting "long batching" which is when it takes far longer to complete (or doesn't finish) a batch than normal. In fact, it wasn't just taking longer; it was stalling and not reaching the completion stage at all. It would only complete if we manually advanced the settings. After contacting "Harvest Right" (the manufacturer), they provided us with a software update and asked us to run a test batch. The test batch was also an unresolved "long batch" so we sent them the recorded data that reveals the operational run status of the machine. 

After a few days, the company responded with the news that we will need to send it back to them. GREAT! We get to wrestle a 250lb metal freeze dryer out of the house and box it up....again. This is the second return to the company we've experienced. That makes us experts a boxing up  elephants, I suppose. The good news is that they considered the machine under warranty. However (there's always a "however"), we get to pay the shipping: $387.00. Ain't it great? Do the math when it's the second time we've done this. 

Did I mention how our "earth suits" are in need of a factory overhaul and that wrestling large weights around wasn't much of a consideration here at the rancho? I probably failed to mention that we didn't consider the un-willful lightening of our wallet to be helpful in facilitating our daily movements. *SIGH*. 

We're in the process of fulfilling the pre-shipping requirements after which they will send us the shipping box and shipping label. We hope to have it back home in a month or so. C'est la vie x 2. 

Diggity Dog Report

Well....it's time to report on Coon Dog and Fuzzy Butt (sounds like a new Disney release). It is with great pleasure (and no small amount of relief) to report that our doggies are doing splendidly and they have no particular health issues. 

Abbie, the Coon Dog, is busy being her laid-back regal self and ruling over her realm. It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that she's ten years old! She certainly does present herself as an adult doggie who is in charge. But, she still has much of her youthful stamina and elan. That may well be attributed to trying to rule over her bouncing, prankish, impetuous, high-balling, buddy who keeps her on here toes. She barks her demands but Fuzz Ball pretends that he doesn't speak her language and commits to the next bout for dominion over the turf. She's serious and let's him know it but he thinks of it as just a game and a hoot to jack her up all the time. 

Also, the word may have gotten out about her prowess amongst the raccoons because we haven't seen one in a few years. Good doggie, Abbie!

Fuzz Ball is presenting his youthful ability to leap over a tall fire plug with a single bound (wish I could at least leap over a short fire plug without a step ladder). He has completely recovered from the incident involving a car on Highway 190 out front and is bounding about with great alacrity. He limped about for about a month but is now back to being his springy and ebullient self. His top speed hasn't been slowed one whit and he proves it with his frolicking with Abbie! We are utterly thankful for that. 

Wishin' for Wishon

Though the Ol' Rancher is a native to this neck of the hills, he had yet to discover a beloved camping area about eight miles above Springville (we live 3.5 miles below Springville). There is no reasoning for that omission other than the fact that neither the opportunity nor the desire presented itself in all of this time. The place is called "Wishon Camp" and it's a park that inhabits the banks of the Middle Fork of the Tule River four miles north of Highway 190. It's another 8 miles up the hill to Camp Nelson. 

Well, the opportunity and desire hit at the same time thanks to friend and brother who knows where every fishing hole is in the entire county! Once a decision was made to take a few hours off from the rancho, it wasn't difficult to round up some fishing tackle around here. We have more than 100 rods and reels (that's not an exaggeration by any measure) and boxes of lures, hooks, bait, and line. 

It was beyond imagination that there would be any difficulties other than those which are common to a fishing trip So, only three rigs and three tackle boxes were packed in the back of the van. There were three different sized poles, two open-faced Shimano reels (one was an ultra-light reel), and one closed-face Shimano spin-cast reel. Four pound test mono line was chosen since no large mouth bass had been seen in the vicinity (dang!). Though available, no leader line was used (a decision that would later be regretted). A big lesson was soon to be learned (keeping in mind that these are highly revered Shimano reels). 

The preferred "trout gitter" bait is the bubble and fly rig. Ye olde tackle box had at least 30 wet and dry flies to choose from and at least 6 different sized bubbles. So, it was off to the river time! The trout were sure to be in trouble! 

The first issue can't be blamed on any equipment. Rather, it was to be blamed on a the fisherman who hadn't been fishing in so long that he almost forgot which end of the pole to use. He wasn't paying attention while casting and soon ended up with a "birds nest". UGH! Well, that took awhile to rectify and cut into my fishing time (it's called "fishing" and not "catching" for a reason, eh?).

After that mess, a couple of trout were hauled out of the really nice "honey hole" on the other side of the river and at the foot of a small tree dam. Then, things got interesting. Another factor of learning to fish all over again is not being accurate with your casting. That debility ended up with my catching a really nice "tree trout" and the loss of the bubble and fly rigging. UGH x 2! No problemo! There are two more rigs! Rather than re-rig, the ultra-light Shimano was employed. Great! Uh....no. After a few casts and no hits, the reel handle came unscrewed! To make things even crazier, despite there being no obvious reason for the retainer screw not to do its job, the screw and handle would not come together! What?! This ol' crappie and bass chaser has never has such a thing happen! Trying to get the nut to hold was fruitless. 

There was no immediate remedy so the closed-face Shimano rig number three was deployed. The first few casts were without issue and were within a couple of miles of each other.  An observer would have thought that this was my very first fishing trip without dynamite. But, they did hit the water fairly close to the "honey hole". Since a small Mepps spinner was being used, it was hoped that accuracy would be improved. Nope. In fact, in only a two casts, another "tree trout" was solidly hooked. Great! The new Mepps spinner was lost. UGH x 3! 

So, it was back to the open-faced Shimano that was re-rigged back to the bubble and fly lure. When using this rig, you have to account for the fact that the fly is three feet below the bubble. It means you need to be accurate with your casting. Sure. After a couple of cautious practice casts, I was able to secure another "tree trout". A professional couldn't have done that any better! UGH (one more UGH! and I'll be part Navajo!)! 

After a few more unproductive casts, it was time to pack up the poles and go home. It seemed that the trout were too busy laughing at me to hit a lure. There's always tomorrow and this next time, there will be 5 backup rigs and an extra tackle box as well. 

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 a retarded duck that we try to keep in a row: 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 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. 

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, though. 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 are 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. Hondo, the Four-Trax quad hauler, is down and Ranch Rhino, the Ford 8N tractor, is down. The riding lawn tractor, Rancho Clippo, needs a seasonal tune up (which it needed a couple of seasons ago). It'll need to be hauled down to Porterville Ag-Home soon. The robust Echo weed whacker is OK as is the hefty 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 Fuzz 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 (no one voted 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 kid ourselves by calling it "California gold").

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). Having said that, the coop flooded after the recent rain. Swell. 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. 

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 kept to myself, especially the first one (though it was a very accurate summation of the matter). Though the move was executed with precision, 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 winning way 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. 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 somewhat dryer), 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 at hand.  Had the flailing been in another direction, the result of crashing on one of those would have been far worse. The thought of narrowly avoiding a subdural hematoma or a 20 stitch gash by a coon's hair was somewhat therapeutic. You can believe me when I say that, somewhere along the line, there was a temporary failure of a sense of humor.

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

Face off with a middle-aged Mutant Ninja 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. I'm just sooooo honored) 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 and has it has even been reported in the blog prior to this time how he just wants to be the first to be fed. 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 hastily and 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 was 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 never 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 large bump and a couple of 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 spanking new “Tasty Burger” without raising at least one eyebrow at such a  dated, corny, and perhaps even silly 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. My guess is that they got it from Pee Wee Herman. 

It sort of reminds me of a trip I was on heap many moons ago (and no few suns, too!). I was headed northbound to Idaho 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. The burger was the best one within probably a few miles or so. Not bad, at all. Moving along....

 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 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! A week later, we returned! This time, Connie the Canner also 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.