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:

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by “Inez Icely’s Insulated Inuit Igloos". Now, these are the best “Insulated Inuit Igloos” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Insulated Inuit Igloo” anywheres! And, folks, they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of " Inez Iceley’s Insulated Inuit Igloos" at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Save Mart, Quick Mart, Rapid 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!

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.

RANCHO DUSTO STORMO

 

Greetings and welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for Novembre. This month's issue is not on time just like the previous 180 months or so. Things are still rather hectic around here. We're busier than a five pound bass in a bath tub full of minnows.  

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the hopin'-and-prayin'-for- rain foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. This should be our last month of drought. We've had a slight seasonal break in the weather and are mighty grateful for the "mad rain" we finally got (though just enough rain to get your windshield muddy). But, there's hope! We have a .05% chance of .0001 inches of rain just around the corner! Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo happy huevos industrial complex.

Note: click on the pics to enlarge. 

I haven't seen this phenomenon since 1963. This is a genuine dust storm. They are rare because there is a lot more tilled and tended farmland in our area than prior to the '70's. Prior to that, dust storms were expected every few years (I've experienced two). What made this storm different was that it that it happened so late in the year and that there was a rainstorm that precipitated it. We had dust and rain at the same time! Wild! Thankfully, it was a rather brief event and we weren't choked by the dust. Rain is our friend!                                                                                    

When I first received this picture, I think I had about a dozen captions for it within about 30 seconds. But, there was a change of mind so it was decided to report it for what it is. Eldest son, Jeff, and his wife, Sandra, just experienced a new four-legged addition to their family. There's something cute about baby animals that we all appreciate and this little guy is sure a camera pleaser accordingly. The name that immediately came to mind was "Pepe". However, it was surmised that he would have been the three millionth donkey to be named that. There may be a need for a tad more creativity around here. Maybe "Ziggy" or "Honkey" will work, eh? 

The other day (when lots of things happen around here), we had to make a trip to a "real town"; that would be Visalia which is about 40 miles from our front door. It was decided that, before the trip home, we would stop for lunch so that we could crack a gift card for IHOP (I Hate Old People?) on Mooney Blvd. It was past lunch time so we certainly had a case of the "hongries". One item that has intrigued this old waffle eater is the "chicken and waffles" craze that seems to be growing around here. It's probably been here for years and in its dying phase but you just know which Luddite hasn't been paying attention. There was no better time to do it so the order was made while Connie the Side Kook ordered pancakes with a pile of blueberries on top. I’m now a paid-up member of the Chicken ‘N Waffles club.

To the left is a shot taken about15 seconds after the plate stopped moving. Naw....just kidding. It was more like 30 seconds or so. This was only the third time in 22-23 years that I've eaten at an IHOP. I was turned OFF the previous time about 3 or so years ago after they served me a "steak" that was little more than a                                                                        "Dr. Scholl's" shoe insert that had been microwaved to death. 

For the ex-pats: here's two shots of the two new bridges at River Island Golf Course. They have a new owner and, whoever it is, have overhauled everything and rebuilt things that the flood destroyed. Lookin' good!

Here's Fuzzy frolicking about with Abbie who is giving great diligence to keep up with his boundless energy. This is no small saying. She doesn't have his boundless (and bounding) energy but, because she can track a coon all night, take a ten minute nap, and hunt all the next day, she can keep up with him on the whole. They keep each other busy, to say the least. Fuzzy is also our "trash inspector" who pulls over and dumps out our 8 trash barrels to make sure they are solid and sound enough to be pulled over for inspection (bless his little doggy heart). Can't think of any other reason he'd do that since he also hauls his large stainless steel feed bowl thirty feet from the back porch every morning. My pal. 

Wanna see my soup stock?! The other day, Connie the Canner roasted up a big ol' turkey. She had run out of room to freeze or store it so she decided to can the thing. I don't mind at all what she does with it as long as the carcass ends up in the big ol' stainless steel cook pot! To the right is a picture taken just after stuffing the carcass and some spices (chicken stock, garlic, salt, and a tad of "Liquid Smoke") into the pot. The first application of the soup base was to make a turkey gravy over toast. Oh, my! What a delight! 

Next we'll likely try the soup base with Ramen noodles in it. I can go for that, too! We'll see. 

'

About a week or so after the soup base was made, there was a big cache of Portabella mushrooms that came our way. It didn't take long to know what to with them. Out came the stainless steel sauté pan, olive oil, and butter. Add some heat from out vintage O'Keef and Merritt range, shake the pan a bit, and voilà! "Ze 'shrooms are fineeshed, monsieur!".

 

Tip of the Day:

“Never go full retard” (Robert Downey Jr. “Tropic Thunder”)

And now a word from our sponsor:

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by “Happy Hannah’s Heepy Hoogie Hadder Hudders". Now, these are the best “Heepy Hoogie Hadder Hudders” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Heepy Hoogie Hadder Hudders” anywheres! And, folks, they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of "Happy Hannah’s Heepy Hoogie Hadder Hudders" at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Save Mart, Quick Mart, Rapid 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!

Well....it's November and I'm still waiting for spring so I can get my cleaning done. Doesn't that just sink you new canoe?! If that doesn't, it's only 42 days until Christmas!! It'll be here before you finish using the leftovers from your Thanksgiving turkey! Moving along..........*SIGH*

Chickening Report: 

How are the Gluttonous Gallos doing? or Yes, we have lots of huevos; we have lots of huevos today.

Well, we up to our hips in itsy bitsy, teeny weeny, yellow fluffy chirpy thingies. Our gallo gang has now grown to 55 birds! All seriousness aside, we really hadn't wanted to re-start our career as professional chicken sitters. The previous time, we went more than two years without a day off! I mean, just who are you going to call to baby sit almost a hundred hens?! So, it is with some trepidation that we are committing to such a feat again. 

This latest endeavor wasn't a planned operation but it may well turn out for the best. This is to say that we can always treat the birds as "currency" and barter or sell them at will and be unencumbered forthwith (and take a day off). And, it is a rather positive thing to never having to give thought about running out of eggs. In any event, all of these new chicks came upon us fairly quickly (about a month) so something had to be done. And, there's really not a way for the chicks to receive sufficient nutrition in the coop until they are big enough to eat crumbles and scratch without a momma to help them (we separated the chicks as day-olds). 

So, we started with Connie, the Chicken Granny, who conducts our chicken “pre-school”. Since we snatch the little guys away from their mommas, there’s no one to protect them. We maintain a chicken pre-school/pre-coop for them and that’s where a chicken granny comes in. We can’t just toss our little birdies into the main coop; the big birds will peck them to death unless a big ol’ mother hen says, “Touch my chick and the only thing that'll be left of you is three feathers and a bloody beak!”. 

The little birdies really do need to be "chicken sat" so we have a large plastic tub that we maintain as a coop of sorts. We place a watering bottle at one end and a feed pan at the other. There is also an incandescent hooded bulb parked over it at one end to provide some extra heat. When they get big enough to get out of the tub without assistance, they graduate to the small 4' x 3' x 3' "hootch" inside the coop. When they're there a couple of weeks and can get out without assistance, they are added to the general population. They are guarded for a few minutes or so to make sure they integrate without issues. 

I’ve not yet figured out why chickens are programmed to try to commit chick-o-cide (you probably won't find that in your Funk and Wagnalls). You would think it would end the species rather quickly. But, it must work since there are ten times as many chickens on earth as there are humans (who seem to be set on genocide…and we think we’re smarter than birds).

The big birds are doing well but are still rather inconsistent with their egg production. It's likely the change in weather. They were used to nightly lows of around 50 degrees or higher. Lately, the temps are in the 40's. Layers are prodigious egg factories but only when they decide to be. That means that we have tons of eggs for awhile and very few at other times. We're not concerned since we have plenty of eggs in storage (e.g. water glassing). C'est la vie. 

Before long (but not next month), it'll be a good idea to replace the plastic curtains on the west side to attenuate the breeze that comes in from that direction. They're hardy enough to handle the cold but adding wind isn't a good thing. All I need is a....day off....so I can get to it. 

Well, it's eatin' time again. I guess I'll see yuh or What's for Lunch?!

It may have been a good idea to label this edition of RR, "Rancho Fiesta" or "Rancho Comida" since there's so much food happening this time. Not long ago (but longer than the other day), we had to go to the nearest "big town" which is Visalia. As it happened, we were finished with business and ready to head back home a little after 11AM or so. And, since we hadn't had breakfast, and since we just happened to  have a gift card to "Red Robin", we figured it was time for a "free lunch" (free lunches are our friends!). 

The problem was that, the previous time we were in there (a year or so ago), the music was deafening and far too unpeaceful for us to enjoy their tasty burgers. Taking a chance, we peeked in and found that their music was playing but at a comfortable level. "Table for two, please!". 

We had gone to the "Red Robin" on Ming Avenue in Bakersfield and once there in Visalia so the two old people had great expectations of having a super burger this time around. It was difficult to be disappointed what with the "bottomless fries" component of the meal (I didn't wear out the server, this time) and having an excellent server helped a lot, too. That said, they use a standard (i.e. small) bun for their burgers which was a minor but real "thumbs down" matter for this old burger gnasher. Tall burgers are more difficult to eat because their guts fall out when you try to eat them. It wouldn't be an issue if I just did what Fuzz Doggy Dog does and just gulp the whole thing down in one gulp without caring if any part of it hit any teeth or not on the way down. 

No, I didn't pout and whine. It's just that it made the lunch a four star event instead of a five star one. If folks keep throwing gift cards at us, we'll gladly gain weight at "Red Robin". Just keep them fries a'comin'! 

Wouldn't you know that October was "eatin' out" month for the old people. And, you know me. I'm all for eatin’ good in the neighborhood!

We had yet another  trip to Visalia (making three that month) at about noon time or so. This time, we had a sister from church with us and it didn't take long for a consensus to be made. We all agreed that, prior to returning to Hooterville, we would head down to Tulare (Tulare is ten miles south of Visalia and right on the way home) to knock over a "Popeye's" for a chicken sandwich. It had been at least a month since we had had a "Popeye's" fix so it was nigh unto time for another one. 

Now, both of the old folks find that chicken, in just about in configuration, is our friend. We've been to "Chick-Fil-A", "Popeye's", "Big Boss Grill" and "Super Burger" in Porterville, and a few other places thither and yon for their chicken sandwich. But, the winner seems to be "Popeye's". We've never left their hungry or displeased for any reason. 

This time, yours truly added the "red beans and rice" side dish since it hadn't been tried yet. There's two parts to this event. First, it truly was delicious; no doubt about it. However (I hate howevers, don't you?), it seemed to me to be a bit presumptuous that they charged 3.99 for a total of about 5-6 tablespoons of beans and rice. It was especially sad that there were only about 3 or 4 beans and a smattering of rice in their skimpy serving. All the rest was just gravy of some kind. Didn't make since to me given that there isn't much on any menu that's cheaper than beans and rice (wholesale, that is). I was expecting at least a half cup and they wouldn't lose money if they had served a full cup (especially at that price and being so watered down!). So, though not disappointed or dismayed, you know who will never again be taken advantage of in their restaurants again. 

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.