REGRESO EN EL RANCHO

 

Well….it’s May, June, July, August, September, and October….again….and it’s sort of quiet on the creek for the time being. Even a hurricane can last for just so long. 

Sorry that the previous six months has been “Rancho Relaxo” free. I reckon the Ol’ Rancher was a tad distracted. A lot of that was due to an irrecoverable hard drive failure which set me back a really long time. After the weeks-long grueling rebuilding event, I'm still not finished! I suppose there was a half-cup of discouragement that set in (OK...maybe a cup and three-quarters). 

And, there was no way to confirm that anyone was even reading the Rancho Relaxo Report. Part of that was the “hit count” provided by Google showed that only a dozen or so of the 100+ contacts had even read it. (I think they were probably lying). Thanks to a recent mini class reunion (see below), some of the classmates encouraged me by advising that they missed reading it and how they enjoyed the adventures we shared. That did help….a lot! So, here ‘tiz. 

The chickens and pigs have been gone for awhile. That's a huge change. What a load off the old folks! It really is nice not to have to brave the elements to feed animals. Braving the winter to keep your egg producers happy is a real chore. Though it really was a blessing, the twice-weekly hauling of 8-16 boxes of produce from the supermarket was tiresome. 

Lots of those sorts of changes have been made at the rancho. Some are welcomed and some were not so welcomed but, life has a way of dealing some strange hands at the poker table. 

That is, of course, not to mention Abbie, the princess doggy, who still has yet to understand that we are in charge of things around here and not her. She’s still her happy, well-fed. healthy coon doggie self who contends that she isn't being spoiled enough (princess pooches are like that). We will likely find a special friend for her to romp and cavort with because she’s bored now that Fuzz-ball isn’t here for her to boss around. I think that their constant wrestling matches have helped her to stay happy and healthy. Stay tuned for updates.

"Buffalo Springville". Isn't that that the name of a great rock band in the '60's? You know; the band with Steven Stills and Neil Young. NAW....this pic was taken right here in our modest little berg of Springville. This bison lives a short distance up Balch Park Road. Reckon he's safe from the Lakota Sioux for now. He's pretty laid back. You never know what you'll find in Springville. Seriously. We even have our own winery just up the hill from the buffalos! 

Everyone's mother told them not to play with their food. Well....she wasn't looking so I started a Facebook serious called "Awful Art" sometime ago. It's where faces are made in an ice cream cone. I mean, who wouldn't want to be an artist using a medium that is soooo easy to clean up? And, if you don't like what you did, you just lick it a couple of times and you have a new canvas! My kind of Picasso! 
Our favorite "studio" (and ice cream) is at the "Tasty Burger" at Olive and Villa in Porterville (the old "Long John Silver's" building). They have a "Happy Hour" special that includes one dollar ice cream cones. Now, that's a cheap (and tasty) canvas. What can go wrong when your tongue is a paintbrush? I'm stunned that the place isn't filled with other old people who love bargains!! No worries. It leaves more for us.

Everyone knows that Rancho Ran and Connie the Canner are rather...old fashioned (gingham, anyone?) Guilty as charged. But, maybe they didn't know just how old fashioned we were. Some time ago, which is longer than "not long ago" which is longer than the "other day", a dear friend and sister gave us this absolutely gorgeous grandfather clock which hails from the 1800's!! We have several kerosene lamps so all we need is  a wood burning stove!  

The tab for a HALF tank of  gas for the Coop de Ville.

Not a happy camper. I just found out that the North Slope in Alaska has enough oil....by itself....to provide oil to the US for the next 200 years. We'll soon have access to that and other of our VAST oil sources in our nation to bring the price down to about half what it is now. I'm ready. I need a vacation and the gas needs to be cheap!

FIRE ON THE MOUNTAIN!! 

This past August, things got...interesting. We woke up to the smell of burning wood. That isn't all that unusual around these parts. We've had grass fires and forest fires that have made national news with a couple of them being with three miles of us! 

It wasn't a big deal until we noticed a lot of traffic on the big driveway that lead to the doctor's home just behind us. Why  did we have so many "Cal Fire" units so close? A quick trip outside answered the question. The entire mountain behind our house was on fire. Yeah...that'll get your attention. 

The bad news is that the other side of the mountain was completely on fire and that was the side on which the                                                               fire started. The fire on our side was a "back fire" or                                                                 "proscribed burn" to counter the original fire. We                                                                       lavished our "THANK YOU" on the battalion chief                                                                   whose vehicle you can see in this next picture below.

This is one of the "working girls" who helped to contain the fire. She's a Sikorsky S-64 "Sky Crane". It's the largest helicopter ever used by the U.S. Military. Only about 100 of them were made. I'm not sure how many are still flying as flying but there are only a few being used as "fire bombers". One of this big babies was recently lost while fighting a fire in Colorado. The Grumman S-2T's were hot on the job, too. 

I counted seven vehicles attending to business. 

Smoke and haze for a couple of days. 

TIP O' THE DAY: Always buy the expensive toilet paper...always (trust me on this).

And now, a word from our sponsor: 

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by “Smiley Smitty’s Soggy Sago Saggers". Now, these are the best “Soggy Sago Saggers” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Soggy Sago Saggers" anywheres! And, folks, they're a real hot item and they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of “Smiley Smitty’s Soggy Sago Saggers” at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Rapid 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!

Moving along.........

 

No more chickens …..well….sort of.

We are enjoying not being chicken sitters and not having a hog heaven. But, there are four hens who have managed to not get caught and hauled off. It’s not too bad having them here but they are useless for now and they are experts at….ahem…fouling the back porch. That’s a huge “NO! NO!” for Connie the ex-huevos canner who prefers that there not be so many obstacles to step in or over when she visits the patio. There is a plan in the making to fashion a simple cardboard box trap with a stick and string trip mechanism. We'll stash them in the now-empty coop until we can find them a good home. 

We wouldn't mind a few fresh eggs but they are rather selfish and only show up for table scraps and keep the egg stash a secret. The good news is that the brother that we gave our flock to brings us fresh eggs now and again and we never run out! Zowie! 

Breakfast not as usual.

The piggies, Piglet and Squealer, have been converted to something more useful and far less noisy and stressful. This is to say, they make great sausage! We did have to rename them to “Link” and “Patty”, though. They were invited for breakfast and were paired with Connie the Baker's hot biscuits and gravy. I must say that this is the areas in which they excel!  It does help to ameliorate the punishing job of raising them. I’ll keep eating and let you know just how much amelioration there has been. Can’t be too sure. Not in a hurry. 

Time off, fun on:

Not long ago, but longer than the other day, we took a couple of days off! Hallelujah! We’re pretty sure we felt the ground move a little bit under us! Anyway, it was to attend a mini class reunion in Morro Bay, CA. We hadn’t been there since August of 2023 when we knocked over “Jocko’s Steak House” in Nopomo and “Pismo Fish and Chips” in Pismo for grits and grins (https://elranchorelaxodetortuga.blogspot.com/2023/09/). 

It had been a long long time since the previous formal class reunion (2017) but, even then, many of the “kids” couldn’t attend that one. It was a bit of a shock to realize that it had been (gulp!) 60 years since I’d seen some of them!! If there is a formal reunion, it will be the 60^th in 2027 (are we feeling old yet?).

We met late Tuesday afternoon at “The Pizza Port” in downtown Morro Bay. It was super nice cool day so we were outside on the patio. We ordered our pizza and set off to the patio to meet and greet the chums of old. Of course, pinning names to faces was a bit of a chore for all of us. After a couple of hours, we headed back to our motel which was only a few blocks away.  It was a great time but it was to be an even greater time the next day. 

Side note: our motel was the same one that I have been going to since the late 1990's. It has changed hands and names a few times, of course. It was surprising to see that they had completely overhauled the rooms! They were much nice and were new all over! The real surprise was the rental was truly reasonable. We were only 500' feet from the ocean!! If you head over there, it's the Blufftop Inn & Suites. It has a higher rating than the "Best Western" motel across the street (4.6 vs 4.1). This place is a bargain and we'll be back! 

The Next Day. 

After a fish and chips lunch at the “Great American Fish Company”, we retired to one of the gang’s home there in town. Most folks just floated around and joined in on whatever conversation was in progress. It really was a great to get to seem them all again! Of course, we had all changed. We all shared stories and such and how we got where we were. Some were still in Porterville while some were scattered across the state. I don't recall if any of the others came from out of state, though. I probably wasn't paying attention.  

Classmate, Carl Carter, an aerospace engineer, filled me in on a mystery that has haunted me since 1961 when we were in the 7th grade at Burton School. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember our teacher. That may not seem like a big deal but I also couldn’t remember a single classmate other than him!! Even after he told me some of the names, I was unable to place any of them. Strangely, I remembered the 8th grade teaching! I attended one month of my 7th grade year in Fort Scott, KS and remember the teacher quite plainly. Yet, after almost the full school year at Burton School in Porterville, I have yet to remember anything about that class including the teacher! Carl found it amazing, as well. 

No. It wasn’t a traumatic year that I can recall. I suppose that moving between the first month of my 6th grade in Rawlins, WYO, then to John J. Doyle school to complete that year and then moving again to start the 7th grade in Fort Scott, KS then back to Porterville could have had something to do with the matter. But, I don’t really see that at all. I seemed to relish new things and places (still do). So, it’s another mystery that will just have to be ignored. 

After a great time of more than three hours of chatting and getting re-acquainted, it was time for the old folks to call it a day. After our "good-byes", we headed back home. 

Home at last. 

 Because of the 3.5 hour drive, it was decided to depart reunion somewhat early. Since it was our day off (Hallelujah! X 2), there was no need for speed so we just dawdled our way home. This method actually diminishes the stress of driving somewhat. Works for us. 

The plan was to unpack and hit the rack when we got back to the rancho at about 8:30PM. But, we were beat pancake thin when we rolled into the driveway. It was a good beat, though (maybe a tad of rationalization here). Unpacking had to wait until the next day. 

Upon waking up the next morning, it was found to be a chore to get all body parts marshalled and headed in the same direction at the same time. Talk about being worn out! I felt like a tennis shoe that had be re-treaded 5 times. It turns out that Connie the Canner felt the same way. It wasn’t like we had climbed Morro Rock but we were nonetheless wrecked. 

After a few groans, Connie asked if I was OK. I respond affirmatively and that it was a positive thing that the pain wasn’t just coming from just one place. We made it to the sofa and thought about passing out the Ibuprofen. After a few minutes of commiseration, we decided that, if there was any way for us to get up off the sofa, it would be to call a neighbor to come over and ring the doorbell so that we would be forced to answer the door. At least would be up and moving. Not sure how but we did end up kick-starting the day. 

Hot heels! My, but they’re good! 

I don’t recall the first time that I ever had a “hot heel” from a freshly home-baked loaf of bread. But, I also don’t recall ever not wanting another one. It may have been around 1964 when my mother baked a loaf. Having a hot heel isn’t just a flavorful event; it’s an outright taste bud detonator! Imagine walking into the kitchen and the smell of freshly-baked bread smacks your smeller smooth into the back of your skull!  

With that in mind, the other day (when lots of things happen around here), Connie the Baker deemed that it was “hot heel” day at the rancho. She decided to haul out the new-fangled automatic bread maker (she’s not lazy; she’s just convenience oriented) and make some fresh bread. She hadn’t taken that contraption for a spin in many o’ moon so she figured that it was time to do so (reckon she loves to figure). Well, bless her heart and all her vital organs!! The aroma in the house was almost enough to make a man drown in his own saliva! Then, she rang the dinner bell! 

Not many things can bring a smile to the Ol’ Rancher’s mug like a hot heel and a slab of real butter! Man, oh, man! When she whacked off the heel of that hot loaf and handed it to me, I was happier than a coon dog with a quart of gravy! 

If that doesn’t just grease your buggy, we had thick hot toast with breakfast the next morning! She’s already planning another round of goodness in a few days! I think I’m spoiled and I think I like it that way!

Pizza Factory vs Eating Factory

Speaking of food, the other day (when lots of things happen around here), we accompanied some friends to our local “Pizza Factory” lunch buffet. I’m a bit ashamed that it didn’t take but one prompt to get me on board with the idea. It’s a given at the git-go just what and how much will be eaten by the Ol’ Pizza Slayer. This is especially true when it comes to their steak-cut potatoes. The bloody things are addicting which is precisely why they have them. You fill up on the cheap stuff and they don’t have to prepare as much expensive pizza. It’s a sneaky plan and…it does work. They have great pizza, too! 

After lunch, I sort of patted my stuffed self on the back because I didn’t eat until I made money (uh…to be truthful….I did get a significant discount). It was also a good thing because Connie didn’t need a wheel barrow with which to haul me to the van. We don't go there often so I can assuage my conscience for misbehaving in the name of "getting my money's worth". *SIGH*.

Speaking even more about food: Beans beans the musical fruit. 

It has been well documented around here that man does not live by bread alone; he has to have beans and ham hocks. I think it's a DNA thing. I'm the son of a CIO (California Improved Okie). That means that the Ol' Rancher has a heritage of eating certain foods for so long that they become part of his persona and DNA. That's why I think that there's "bean liquor" in my blood though it has yet to show up in any blood samples so far (I don't trust their testing). And, I've never met a bean that I didn't like. Pretty compelling, if you ask me. 

Think about this powerful protein combination. The science works well with this lowly legume and the equally lowly pig hock. You have a nutritional symbiosis that can hardly be beat. You get two types of protein and just enough fat to make it especially tasty while supplying enough grease for your universal joints. It’s an unbeatable combination especially when paired with (and you know where this is headed) hot cornbread! Whooo! Doggies! When that hock-flavored bean liquor hits that cornbread, the magic happens! You have to hold onto your eyeballs to keep them from rolling up inside your head! Then, when your bowl is empty, your wife has to elbow you to keep you from licking the bowl clean! Can I get an Amen!" ?! 

However….however....there is an obvious caveat and some chemistry involved here. There is a scientific phenomenon to be dealt with when approaching this scrumptious nutritional combo. It has to do with the improper digestion of said legume the reaction of which produces an unwelcomed "musical" result. 

Now, most adults understand such scientific things and have established our own argot about the matter. So, whilst in mixed company let us establish a parameter or two. We certainly know the colloquial euphemism that men use. Yes...that one particularly. Well, that's what men do. But, women don't do that; they "poot". See? It's much less offensive even though the "poot" may be of the same large caliber as the men's (though rarely and not that any man would acknowledge and live).  

Now, woman handle this as an embarrassment: something to hide. They aren't proud of a case of the "vapors" and will reach for the "Glade" or their perfume bottle post haste.  Men, on the other hand, have little thought about ending life on earth by ripping a vile smelly hole in the space time continuum. In fact, some of the guys seem to find it hilarious for some reason. 

These means that there are sound reasons why one must approach this meal with caution and at a predetermined location (not that anyone will heed this admonition).  

OK....science class is over. The moral of the story is that you must eat beans and ham hocks at your own risk and must eat them as often as you can. You're welcomed. 

More food and a sad note

September 19th was my mother's 98th birthday. She hadn't been feeling well so she declined the previous couple of invitations to knock over her favorite place. That would be the "New China" Chinese buffet on Olive Street just a couple of blocks east of the high school. So, this was a special event. 

As expected, we had a nice time of fellowship and feasting. I usually make at least three trips to the steam tables but only made two this time. Not sure why. I didn't leave hungry at all. 

After lunch, we did what we always do and made sure she had an opportunity to pick up a few things at whatever store she needed to stop at. Usually, we stop by her apartment once a week or so at "Sierra Hills" to bring things that aren't on the menu there. Donuts are a hit with her as is some fresh fruit and such. 

This was to be her last birthday. She passed away less than two weeks later on Oct 2 of a massive stroke. The good news is that she didn't suffer a lengthy illness. It was sudden and definitive. She had been reasonably ambulatory and used a walker and was in good spirits but, as is the way of all flesh, her time on this "vale of tears" was over. 

There will be no services of any kind but a memorial service will, at some point, be planned at our church. Thank you for your prayers for the family. 

So....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 having to return to the rancho for something: home to one duck that we try to keep in a row (which is difficult since he's retarded): 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 fresh: where things can get...interesting: where it's all news to us, and where...you just never know.

 

 

BABY, IT'S WARM OUTSIDE!

 The warm spring weather is finally here. All of the locals acted like a bunch of ectotherms and headed for the nearest patch of sun rays to thaw out. All of the large flat rocks down at the river were mostly populated by snakes but there was still a lot of competition. The snakes finally gave up and slithered off (well…that’s the story I was told).

Of course, this lovely weather will only last for a couple of weeks or so then the good folks will all head for the nearest shade. It’s a hoot to drive into a large parking lot in Porterville where the lots that have trees on them will have cars huddled together in the meager shade. Folks don’t seem to mind walking long distances to get inside where they have free A/C (we like taking our time to shop, don’tcha know).

The times, they are a’changin’ around here. For instance, we’re chicken and pig free, now; we’re a real residential zone again. It feels really strange not to be critter sitters and not having to have to regularly feed demanding beaks and hog maws. It’s hoped that feeling guilty for not being responsible should soon fade away.  

The chickens went to a brother on Yokhol Valley Road. The piglets went to the freezer. It just happened sooner than we had planned but we’er done.  

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho (which doesn’t even come close to meeting modern industrial standards) nestled in the rapidly-fading clinging-to-life green foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Thanks for stopping in at Dirty Bird Central, the ex-chicken ranch being run by two old turkeys.

 Tip Of The Day: Just don't.

And, now a word from our sponsor:

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by “Eddie Eider’s Ebonated Erballent Ectobabbers". Now, these are the best “Ebonated Erballent Ectobabbers” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Ebonated Erballent Ectobabbers" anywheres! And, folks, they're a real hot item and they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of “Eddie Eider’s Ebonated Erballent Ectobabbers” at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Rapid 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!

Rancho Report

 It’s April….again!! Doesn’t that just put stitches in our britches? If that doesn’t just ranker your panger, it’s only 262 days until Christmas! *SIGH*. Moving along……

 Wired

Not long ago (but longer than the other day when lots of things happen), there was an issue with Wooly Pully’s wiring....again. This saga began with when it had been damaged and needed to be replaced (some time ago which is longer than not long ago). “No problema”, said the ol’ wire guy who has already worked on the trailer wiring a number of times. The thought was that it would be fixed in no time. But, you already know that this is Rancho Relaxo where….you just never know. The tool boxes, splicing connectors, shrink tubing, and heat gun were piled up and it was time to fix things.

Trailer wiring is pretty simple stuff. "Flat Four" connectors are just that: four wires. How can this get messed up? Perhaps an explanation is in order so you'll know exactly how goofy it can get. The old section of wiring was resected and a new section was wired in using new tech solder lugs. You simply shove each end of the splice into the lug and hit it with high heat until the solder melts. If you've stripped the wires properly, the two ends will mesh and that renders a decent mechanical connection and gives you a good electrical connection (having both is the desired product). The shrink tubing insulation was already in place so the tubing was slipped over the solder lug which made everything look spiffy. Having been tricked by wiring on no few occasions, a pat on the back was held in reserve until it could be tested. 

That turned out to be a wise move because things didn't go as planned. The trailer was hooked to the Coop DeVille and the lights were turned on. No joy. Great. This was ridiculous because you can't screw up four color-coded wires. Not even I can mess that up! A quick scan of the rest of the trailer wiring was in order. Sure enough; further up the wiring and hidden beneath a plastic protector shroud was a broken wire. Great. Out comes all of the tools again and another splice was soon in place. Time for another test. Would like to guess the outcome? Yep; you're correct. No joy, times two. Great. 

This simple repair job is now really getting silly. The only thing that made sense was to troubleshoot the wiring on the van. After a quick scan of the connector and the wiring that disappeared behind the gas tank, it appeared that everything was fine. But, it wasn't fine. Going back to the fact that this was a simple project that can be done in your sleep, there could only be one thing wrong. The connector had to be bad even if it didn't seem so. 

A new connector was grabbed from the box of supplies and the old one was whacked out. In a little while, the new connect was in place and looking mighty fine. Time for a test. YEP. That was the problem even though you couldn't tell it at first. There's still a small issue that needs to be remedied but which won't disallow the use of the trailer. 

Pork Be Gone or Pass the sausage, please.

Well, the pigs are gone. They were taking up too much time and effort to deal with. Much effort was made to sell them to some other local who had pigs or who wanted to try their hand at raising them. The "patience bucket" ran dry after a few weeks so a friend was called for any advice he might have. You can imagine my relief when he advised that his brother-in-law was a meat cutter. Well...bless his heart and all his vital organs!! Guess who was so stoked he could have almost done a bit of break dancing?! 

It was only about a week later that the gentleman came and hauled off the piggies for processing. Piglet and Squealer are now Patty and Link and we should have some boss hog breakfasts around here in  the near future. 

 Bye Bye Birdies or A Feathery Fairwell

Well, the Ol’ Rancher is no longer the head chicken sitter around here. Enough is enough. The birds are gonzo. It's time to take care of and pamper the occupants here at the old folks' home. We have an ample supply of freeze-dried eggs and the brother we gave our bird herd to said he would bring by eggs once in awhile for us. Works for us. 

It’s really a relief to not be chained to a bird herd. Seriously. Not only that, we no longer have to pick up as many as 15 boxes of produce trimmings twice per week. And, we don't have to break down and haul those boxes to the dump every few weeks (at 25 bucks per trip!). 

The Henhouse Hilton will have to be cleaned up and ready for either the trash heap or maybe for the old people to decide to undergo another decade of abuse as eggheads. I’m thinkin’ it’s the former. It’s difficult to imagine that next occupants of the ranch will want to take on a bird herd so we may just tear it down. Who knows. 

In any case, it's time for the Ol' Rancher and Connie the Canner to take a couple of days off. I really want to take her to the Monterey to see the Aquarium there. I went there not long after it opened and it was awe inspiring then! It should be just as great now.

 RUH-ROH! What’s that engine light doing on? Or Tune Me Up, Scotty!

No long ago (but longer than the other day), our faithful ol’ van, the Coop de Ville, had been struggling for a while. Everything seemed to be running but the van was a tad sluggish and it was starting to run a bit rough. And, it was starting to act like it had already run a marathon when accelerating from a stop light. It lacked more energy than the Ol’ Rancher. The first thought was that it just needed a tune up. That was sensible given the fact that our faithful haul-it-all has 140K miles on it and had yet to be in the shop for serious servicing.  So, when the “check engine” light came on, the ol’ hoopie was taken to our local (Porterville) mechanic.  

The van was driven to our mechanic on Sunnyside in Porterville. He used the diagnostic tools which then revealed that there was some sort of a manifold leak which allowed the engine to run on too lean of a fuel mixture. You know, the manifold which is situated below all of the parts of the engine and which calls for removing the entire top part of the engine. Great. 

Since the car was going to be down anyway, the mechanic was apprised of a few other minor squawks so they could be fixed, too. Oh, yes; as long as you're at it, it needs a tune up. Would you like to guess what the final ransom tab was? It was $1,400. Let me tell you, cousin; that’s enough to put tears in your tacos. But, it needed to be repaired or it would have been your basic refrigerator with spark plugs. 

The good news is that the van runs really nice now and we're not afraid to drive it anywhere in the country. That'll work. 

So....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 having to return to the rancho for something: home to one duck that we try to keep in a row (which is difficult since he's retarded): 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.

Es Primavera Tambien En El Rancho (It's Springtime again at the Ranch)

 

Welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for March. We're kickin' but can't say that we're making a lot of dust. For one thing, we've had just enough rain to keep the dust down. We are in high praise to the good Lord for that because, finally, we have our desired depth of greenness. This is a good thing because all of us 'Villains" (Springville'ens), change our minds and unpack our bags, chests, pickups, and trunks that were stuffed at the end of the previous summer. We swear we are getting out of this "Devil's Kitchen" San Joaquin Valley and head for any place...any place...that's at least 20 degrees cooler than here in the summer. But, when the gorgeous green hits, we all cave and unpack and brace for the soon-to-come asphalt melting sunshine so we can all cook our huevos on the hood of the Hudson. Connie the Canner says she likens it to a woman giving birth to a 10 pound baby, swearing that she'll never do it again, but then getting pregnant a couple of years later. Hard to challenge the reasoning. 

Things are settling down somewhat due to only dealing with the two oinkers and a single princess pooch. We're going to make it easier yet as soon as we can. A couple of vehicle issues have kept us on our toes, though. To compensate, we've made a point to take at least a short siesta once per day if at all possible. Siestas are much more productive than merely taking a nap, dont'cha know. We can't yet explain the science but it seems to work for us. But, you just know that having such a regular break is a pretty much a pipe dream around here. It's a start, though, and it's greatly appreciated. 

The really lousy part of this wonderful cool weather is that it will all be concluded in only about three weeks from now. In fact, we're already starting to get faded green areas in places and even had to use the A/C in the Coop de Ville a couple of times!!. We were lamenting that fact only a couple of days ago. We have that same lament every...single....year. At least the fog was at a substantial minimum this season. 

There is a chance (though a pretty slim one) that we may take the Yokhol Valley drive again. That's something we haven't done in 5 or 6 years. It's a marvelous round trip of only about 65 miles (which is about the same distance from Ranch Relaxo to Bakersfield). It takes us six miles above Springville then over the hill and down to Exeter where we sometimes stop for lunch. The ol' cameraman usually shoots a ton of pictures (400 on one occasion!) and is ready for a nice burger or taco break. The scenery and landscape is phenomenal from any angle. But, it only lasts for perhaps a week then the glory fades as does any beautiful rose. We'll see. 

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho (which doesn’t even come close to meeting modern industrial standards) nestled in the beautiful vibrant green foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Thanks for stopping in at Dirty Bird Central, the ex-chicken ranch being run by two old turkeys.

(click on pictures to enlarge)

Even though the snow level dropped to about 2,500' and Camp Nelson got 3' of white stuff, we didn't get any of it here at the rancho. In only a couple of days, the weather warmed and all low-level precipitation ceased for the season. 

Contrast the cooler nicer winter picture with this flashback photo from a couple of summers ago. This is smoke and haze from on the nearby fires. The picture is shot from the same place behind our house. The entire area smelled like smoke for days. Lots of complaints because any wash hung out to dry smelled terribly. 

This is an actual old tow truck based here in Springville. It's owned by Roady's Towing downtown. 

We really hadn't planned to let our front yard turn into a silage crop. It got ahead of us when the rain caused green things to explode in growth. Thankfully, things are back to normal. The lawn was mowed and the weed-eater was put to work. The back yard is a huge mess but that should be straightened out soon. 

This is good friend and brother, Jerry Hall, and his band, "Trick Shot". Jerry is on the left, then bass man and singer, Bill Hughes, then lead guitar player and singer, Randy Fowler. They are a C&W fixture in this area and have been for decades. They do have a drummer but he wasn't needed for this particular gig.

 They've played all over including at Buck Owen's "Crystal Palace" in Bakersfield. I remember dancing to their music in 2003 at what was then "Carrows" on Highway 190 at Jaye St. (now Denny's). Not only are they a great entertainers with great music, they're great guys! 

Here they are playing at "Sierra Hills" retirement center on far west Henderson where my mother lives. She invited us to see them and we were quick to accept! They did a super job and everyone had a swell time! 

Here's our two Kuny-Pot Belly cross piggies, Piglet and Squeeler. Piglet is the black and white one. They are noshing on a box of whacked up veggies of all sorts and kinds. They seem to have stomachs that are larger than their bodies. Can't quite figure that out. I've never seen when they are not hungry and begging for chow. Seriously. 

But....the Ol' Rancher is getting out of animal husbandry and taking a break from feeding ravenous critters. It's a lot of work that I haven't been complaining about until now. It's just too much work to haul 6-16 boxes of blemished and out-dated veggies to our chow-wrecking crew twice per week. A main issue is that someone has to cut down and then load the boxes into the trailer and haul them to the dump. They're worse than rabbits and proliferate at about the same rate or more. That's a $25 hit to take them to the dump. It doesn't take long for such activities to eat a hole in your wallet. So, it's time for the piggies to go. The chickens went last month. There's a gent who will be taking them off our hands and will be returning them as BBQ sized slabs. 

Tip Of The Day:

"You don’t need a parachute to go skydiving. You only need a parachute to go skydiving twice"

And, now a word from our sponsor:

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by “Ornery Onie Olson's Oblong Oodleoders”. Now, these are the best “Oblong Oodleoders” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Oblong Oodleoders" anywheres! And, folks, they're a real hot item and they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of “Ornery Onie Olson's Oblong Oodleoders” at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Rapid 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!

Rancho Report

Well, I'll be hornswoggled! It’s March…again! If that doesn’t just keep your skillet good and greasy, it’s only 297 days until Christmas! Moving along.....

 

One of those days or One of those days

Sometimes, you just have "one of those days". That just happened. We had one and it was a doozy. The day started out as originally planned and, by noon, most of nothing had been accomplished. By the end of the day, the remainder of nothing was finished. It wasn’t that we weren’t trying: not at all. It’s just that we had this interruption then that interruption. If it wasn't a long phone call, it was some sort of challenge with Wooley Pulley, the trailer, or having an unexpected run into to Hooterville (a two hour tie up). After that, another exigency barged into the timeline. By day’s end, we were worn out and too tired to lead a banzai charge. Our ability to tend the ranch had been displaced by some sort of activity or another; nothing got done and we were a day behind. *SIGH*. The next day was better.  

Gnats to You or No Fly Zone

We regularly get a lot of produce and fruit at the rancho. That's a good thing. But, once in awhile, some sort of fruit may get left in a bowel on the counter and that's when things get... interesting. When this happens, nature simply does what nature does. It kicks into high gear and make sure that all of the gnats in the county get a text message that there is fruit ripening in the kitchen at Rancho Relaxo. The bugs come in from clear across the county. We know this because there can't possibly be that many gnats that show up from just this one small burg in the foothills. 

Well...you just know that Connie the Canner is a real "no bugs, m'lady" gal and her kitchen is a "no fly zone". It just isn't allowed. Zero tolerance. If you're a fly, “You die!”. She's been seen tracking down a fly with a hand towel and whacking it into oblivion. She even has a sign on the back door with a large fly on it that's being squashed with a swatter that says, "Don't even try!". 

So, you can imagine what happened when she found a gaggle of gnats swarming around some over- ripened fruit on her counter! She didn't go full Seal team but she did have her combat boots on! Armed with a tea towel, she managed to significantly reduce the gnat population. All of that swinging scared the rest of them into hiding. It was that way for about three days until the last of intruders were sent crashing down in flames. There will be no more ripening fruit on the counter. No...not any. 

Piggie report:

The Ol' Rancher is pretty much over the piggy vibe. The rancho just isn't set up or configured correctly for four-legged porcine gluttons and the old folks aren't mentally or physically prepared enough to live in hog heaven. That and we don't want to stress these little ham hocks by forcing them to live in a....pig sty. This is Rancho Relaxo so you just know that it's a long story.

The breakdown: the Henhouse Hilton is now a piggy palace and that isn't a good thing. It was drying out nicely when…it rained the most that it has rained in the previous 4 months. Great. Now, the coop is flooded again and the mud is just as deep as it has ever been and it's barely less polluted than the Ganges. That adds to the grief because the ground is muddy making it difficult to keep the pig's groceries clean enough for them to eat.  It's tasking enough to rake and clean a sty/coop when it's dry; it can't be done with mud. No way. Imagine, then, a muddy floor with a ton of muddy vegetables that have been trampled into the muck by piggies that are rooting and tearing up...the entire...floor of the coop. T'ain't funny, McGee. *SIGH*.

Wanna guess who gets to wade through all of that? My....but that's fun. Burying your overalls in a hog bog really isn't a good practice and slipping and sliding risking the integrity of one's pink fundament isn't either. The weather will be warm soon so, "this to shall pass". In any case, the porkies have to go. I’m getting’ hungry for ham steaks.

We have a friend whose brother-in-law will process and wrap them for a nominal fee. J&R Meats, in Porterville, had been called but I almost fell over when they apprised me of the cost! They wanted $250 to pick them up and kill and bleed them out. According to the law, that has to be done at an approved processing center/facility. Then, it's $2.10 per pound to cut and wrap them. Obviously, we had to rethink the matter. After consulting with another friend, we can get the entire matter taken care of on site here with the fee being 25% of the meat. Sounds fair enough to me. Both options are under consideration. 

As bad as the Ol' Rancher wants them gone, the piggies are only 5 months old. Since they are a Kuny-Kuny and Pot Belly cross, they are a smaller pig. This means that we wouldn't get all that much meat. However, it costs us very little to feed them (though it does cost in time and money to haul off all the boxes the feed comes in 6 to 16 boxes twice per week). In a couple of months, they'll be much larger and we can get more out of the deal. But, the rancher is tired and needs a break. We'll see. 

Home Home on the Range or Some Like It Hot.

Our big beautiful vintage O'Keefe & Merritt range has had an issue for a few months. That's a real stressor for Connie the Baker when she has no oven in which to bake her goodies! The issue was that the oven wouldn't come on even though the pilot light did stay on. The thermocouple was replaced which should have resolved the matter: it didn't do that. That meant that the oven safety valve was faulty. Great. The OEM replacement valve was...gulp....$375.00 (free shipping. Ain't that nice?)!! We tried to find a substitute but that ended up as a big flop. What can you do but grab a 45-70 buffalo rifle bullet and bite it. We chipped for the valve.

When the new valve came in about a month later (due to being back-ordered), it was installed with a new thermocouple. Connie the Canner breathed a sigh of relief. Ah, but this is Rancho Relaxo where, you just never know. The pilot light was on and steady, the new thermocouple head was properly positioned in the flame, so the gas valve button was pushed. What could possibly go wrong now since everything was shiny new? The sound of gas was presented and a match was lit and the oven came on. After 20 seconds or so the red safety button was released and ......the oven went out. That happened three successive times. Great. That really was a poser since all oft the parts involved were new. Ovens are pretty simple critters and you don't have to break a lot of brain cells when dealing with them. 

"Grapevine Sally's" was called for tech support (that's where we got the new valve). The owner of the place was quite cordial and most willing to help. After apprising him of the situation, he was stumped, too. Great. Two stumped mechanics are not better than one. The only thing he could suggest is purchasing the longer 48" thermocouple recommended for the "RoberShaw" OEM safety valve. UGH. That didn't make sense because "a thermocouple is a thermocouple". However, the Ol' Rancher has always stood by a modification of the deductive reasoning used by Sherlock Holmes. Holmes says: "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth". The Ol' Rancher's version is: "When you have done everything except what the more experienced guy than you has recommended, just shut up and take the recommendation". 

Taking his advice was wasn't a blow to my ego but it was a blow to my wallet. A new 30"-36" thermocouple is about $12-$15. The 48" thermocouple recommended by "Grapevine Sally" is....$48.00 plus tax and shipping. Ouch. 

Here's the good news. When the solid gold thermocouple came in (ok...maybe it was only gold plated), it was immediately installed. The magic red button was pushed on the valve and the match was lit. The oven came on as expected. The button was held for about 40 seconds and released and......the oven stayed on. Done deal!

Connie the Baker put the oven to work straightaway! Since then, it has hardly had time to cool down!! Don't think the Ol' Rancher didn't enjoy the freshly baked biscuits!! Whoo, Doggies! Everyone at church got a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies, too! 

 Wiring Wooley Pully or Let there be lights

The wiring on our trusty trailer ended up being compromised when, after a brief encounter with a high spot in the church driveway, the wiring connector got wrecked (long story). It needed to be dealt with ASAP since we use it to haul piggie food and chicken chow in it (such foods being one and the same).

So, the other day (when lots of things happen around here), a determination was made to fix the dang thang (no relation to the small berg of the same name in Vietnam). However, after a mighty large chili dog, potato salad, baked bean, and potato chip lunch, no one at the ranch had the energy to proceed with such a demanding project. It was doubtful that we could have handed out cotton candy to the kids. So, it was siesta time at El Rancho Relaxo de Tortuga.

After sleeping off the post-prandial fatigue, we woke up but still weren’t banging on all 8 cylinders. That meant that we probably needed a “Cereal Nap”. Now, to the underinformed, a “cereal nap” is when you wake up from a nap and have yet to discover enough energy to continue on with the day. In such cases, you simply eat a bowel of cereal and go back to bed for a back-to-back nap. What a grand idea!

Just as the Ol’ Rancher and Connie the Canner, were ready to succumb to the Sirens of slumber, the stupid clock happened to present the time right in front of my blurry eyes; it was late afternoon and it wouldn’t be long until sunset would deprive us of enough daylight to continue with the wiring gig. Yes, there are large LED lights that can be used but night time also brings chilly weather with it. Chilly weather can wait. Warmth is our friend. Nevertheless, the same old 45-70 buffalo rifle bullet was bit again and the wiring project continued into the sunset. FYI: bullets really don’t taste good but an ol’ rancher has to do what an ol’ rancher has to do. 

Is that the end of the story? Nope. Not at Rancho Relaxo where, you just never know. The wiring harness was expertly repaired and the shrink tubing was in place and tidied up. The trailer was hooked up to the van and the lights were turned on: no trailer lights! Great. Enough is enough. There would be no further troubleshooting that day. 

A couple of days later, the task was re-addressed. The entire female wiring harness was replace and all of the trailer wire was inspected (I just love to lie down on a creeper and crawl around under a trailer, don't you?). The job couldn't have been done better. What happened? Did I mention that this was Rancho Relaxo where.... you just never know? Nothing happened, that's what!! 

OK... more troubleshooting. The fuse block diagram was obtained from the Internet and the fuses were checked. No blown fuses. That means that the relay may be blown. Before it gets pulled, the male connector, though inspected and seemingly without issue, will be replaced (thereby eliminating another possible issue). The connectors are fairly cheap (about 7-8 bucks each) and it'll only take 30 minutes or so to rewire a new one in place. I have one in stock. If that doesn't work, the relay is the culprit (thanks, again, Mr. Holmes). 

So....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 having to return to the rancho for something: home to one duck that we try to keep in a row (which is difficult since he's retarded): 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 Pollos (Ranch Without Chickens)

 

Welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for February. Well...this month's edition is pretty much on time...sorta. It's been somewhat settled down around here and things are only frenetic; glad to slow down some. 

Part of the regression to sub-sonic speed is related to Connie's recovery from the nasty fall she experienced just prior to Christmas. For a couple of weeks, it was almost impossible for her to crawl out of bed. She's up and about and only has to take a few breaks during the day when her back gets stressed. 

Winter has, for all intents and purposes, ended. We still haven't had to break out the heavy jackets yet. The “La Nina” whether phenomenon has crept in and has deprived us of our seasonal rains. This also means that we have warmer weather along with far less rain. We only get 10” of rain for the entire season so, it there’s hardly any rain, we suffer accordingly. There’s no worrying about frozen water pipes and frosty chickens but….hey…..rain is our friend and we hate being without such pals.

There is still the possibility of a freak temp drop where we'll have to wear a heavy jacket but we're not holding our breath. We've been experiencing mid-40's for lows and mid-60's for highs and both temps are steadily rising each new day. A friend of ours already has a flourishing garden that he planted more than three weeks ago! No frost on the pumpkin this year but no snow pack, either. That's not a good thing in these parts. 

There still is an inconvenience to deal with regarding our coop, though. It's the man-eating bog that lurks in there waiting for any fool human to get within reach. That's because It takes a long while to dry since the temperature still isn't warm enough to hasten the evaporation. That makes the Henhouse Hilton about as useful as tackle box at a poker game. That's why we made some changes to our chicken program around here: no mas pollos (see report below). The problem is that the Ol' Rancher has to slog through there to be able to feed Piglet and Squealer, the two newest ravenous additions to our zoo. Thankfully, the rear section of the coop is just barely dry enough so that the hog chow (boxes of veggies) doesn't get muddy. 

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho (which doesn’t even come close to meeting modern industrial standards) nestled in the beautiful and almost Irish green foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Thanks for stopping in at Dirty Bird Central, the chicken ranch being run by two old turkeys.

Click on pictures to enlarge

This is a shot of Success Lake looking west toward

Porterville. It shows the valley fog rising up to the same level as the dam and spilling over into the lake. When we left this beautiful clear area, we immediately drove straight into the fog. 

Wanna see my rooster? This is one of our handsome roosters that we hope to rehome soon. He's the head of our "cock-a-doodle-do" choir that awaits us in the early dawn. He's a pretty boy and he knows it! We're downsizing and need to be without "farming incumbrances" including our feathery alarm clock. That is to say, we need a break from our green acres. If we somehow have a desire to have a few more birds in the future, we know the drill. For now, no mas papagallos and our pretty papagallo has to go.  

Tip Of The Day:

"A giant on the ground is just a rug" (anonymous)

And, now a word from our sponsor:

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

Well, I'll be dipped in hog lard! It’s February…again! It that doesn’t just blow your wig in the creek, it’s only 323 days until Christmas! If time goes by any faster, I'll need to buy an anchor! Moving along.....

Hot-not-hot or I'm not warming up to this

The other day (when lots of things happen around here), all of the guts of our big beautiful Maytag dryer had been overhauled or replaced. Everything had been buttoned up and all was well. But, this is Rancho Relaxo where...you just never know. 

All of the items on the repair protocol list had been accomplished save one. It was a small factor that had been addressed....or so it seemed. This is to say that the dryer vent had been checked for clogging and then carefully reinstalled. So, the dryer was fixed: except the dryer had no heat after the first couple of loads. This was a head-scratching mystery since all (as in all) of the sensors had been replaced and all repair protocols followed. There’s really no reason for this dryer not to dry; but, it wasn’t. Great. 

Connie the Washer Woman had had enough of the rebellious appliance and its “tude” towards her. She had laundry to do and was now ready to haul the thing to the nearest high cliff and shove it off and shoot at it on the way down. She almost had her coat on and would have been heading to Lowe's to buy another one but I pleaded for mercy for the stupid thing. It was a good thing she wasn’t near the gun safe or we would have had to give the blamed thing a decent burial.  

Though it didn't make any sense that the dryer wasn't drying properly, only one item on the protocol list did require a re-think: clogging. Though the rear vent had been checked for obstruction, the blower itself had not because it required taking off the blower cover at the bottom. The odds were extremely high that it wasn't clogged. And, checking it required work which El Mecánico had deemed to be unnecessary at the time (and we just know how "convenience oriented" the Ol' Rancher is). No matter the thinking, there was only one option to save the big Maytag from great bodily harm: pull the front off and remove the vital organs….again (big groan).

By now, the Ol' Rancher could rebuild the dryer in his sleep. But, all of the work required to get this far had drained his energy ration for the day. So, despite the lack of energy for the exigent cause (and probably because Connie the Washer Woman was nearby to make sure that her recalcitrant dryer would be working that evening), worked progressed slowly but without delay. A mile-high stack of laundry is real motivator.

Long story longer....sure enough, after the blower shroud was pulled off, a huge ball of lint was totally occluding the blower vent. It was removed and the guts replaced, the tumbler was reinstalled, and the front panel and door were remounted. Day is done...like...done...really done. 

The tumbler is a bit of a bugger to deal with. It requires that you hold it in place and then re-mount the drive belt. That sounds easy and, technically speaking, it is. However, you must slip the drive belt around an exceedingly-taut idler pully which presents itself as a real tug-of-war. And, you get to do it with both hands...reaching to the back of the dryer....while lying on your side...mostly by feel since you can't see past the tumbler. Uh-huh. Wrestling a Wisconsin wolverine takes less energy. After that project, the Ol' Rancer had to resort to the Vulcan Couch Meld.

Peruano beans or New beans are our new friends

The other day (when lots of things happen around here), a nice big bunch of Peruano beans showed up at the rancho. The Ol’ Rancher is a big fan of legumes that go “bang!” in the night. So, since Peruanos have never been on the menu here, it was decided to have a go at taste testing the tiny time bombs. They have been on store shelves for years and years but there had been no real reason to buy them. But, they showed up here so it was high time to fire them up. 

Since these bonnie beanie babies (smooth off-white surface) are from south of the US, it was also decided to not use bacon, ham, or ham hocks for protein like what's normally used for pinto beans. Instead, an on-hand tube of Mexican chorizo was selected. Chorizo is a staple but it hadn't been used as an ingredient for beans before (chorizo is my friend!). So it was, off with the tube and into the pot with the lingering legumes. 

After a couple of hours of simmering, it was time for a taste test. Results? WOW! They're great (thank you, Tony the Tiger)! They have really wonderful mouth feel and, when paired with the chorizo, the result was impressive! After eating my fill, they were stowed for the night. This recipe will be etched into Rancho Relaxo's list of great things to eat! Next time, a different meat will be used and there is no doubt that it will be great!

Black beans and Rice or Beans are our Friends and Rice is nice

It must have been "gas week" at the rancho because the hankering for more frijoles hadn't gone away. Being the son of a “CIO” (a “California improved Okie”, in case you hadn’t heard), my genes must have kicked in because, at about the time the Peruanos were gone, the hunger for more beans was unabated. The very thought of ladling up more beans also evoked a strong yen for fried taters with a ton of onions mixed in. Since we just happened to have a huge supply of onions at the time, the game was afoot. 

At first, the Ol' Rancher was a bit hesitant about the spicing and ingredient mix. Along with the taters, the menu included Caribbean "frijoles negros" (black beans) that use cumin for spicing; they weren't the usual pintos. After remembering pairing potatoes (pappas) with cumin in Mexican cooking, and that cumin is used in chili beans, everything was just fine with the mental processing. White rice was also added so the meal would be complete. 

You would have thought that corn tortillas would have been unpacked, warmed, and handed out. Not this time. It was discovered that Caribbean cuisine doesn't normally use tortillas per se but rather a "roti" like flat bread. Using a tortilla would have aided the fusion cuisine attempt but I passed on it this time. Instead of tortillas, plain white bread and real butter were used (margarine is not allowed in the house since it isn't real food. Not even flies will touch it!). For those in the know, this makes for a delightful treat called a "fried tater sandwich". Oh, my! Was it ever delightful! This treat, with or without the black or pinto beans, will soon return to the menu! Make this note: Okie food and Caribbean food mix well. 

Our steps outside the culinary box were successful but, due to the Ol' Rancher being a Luddite with strict menus and recipes, that may be the extent of our "fusion cooking" around here for a while. But, this is Rancho Relaxo where....you just never know. 

Chickening Report or No mas pollos

Let’s take a running start on this. The Henhouse Hilton has been flooded for a couple of months. Not good…very not good. It is a place of constant hazard due to the deep thick mud and large lingering water puddles. This is because the temps are too cool to dry out the coop (even after two months!). This means that our bird herd would have to endure wet muddy feet all of the time when they are in the coop. That also means that they are subject to serious foot issues and who knows what else. The only option we had we had was to let them free range. Not only that, merely being in the coop is hazardous to whomever has to feed the birds and piggies (that would be moi). Entering the coop is kept to a minimum lest there be one butt short in the pews when church starts. It ain't safe in there. 

OK…let’s talk about free ranging. We love to let our birds out to free range for a number of reasons. It’s healthy for them since they can get more exercise than just being cooped up and it also increases their protein intake (which makes for luscious eggs!). Yet, there are some real downsides to the matter. One is predation. In the previous ten years, we've lost nearly one hundred birds (I didn't stutter) due to predation. 

Once was when we lost almost seventy at one time when a couple of the neighbor's Rottweilers got loose. They rounded up our birds and killed almost all of them for sport. Another time, coyotes took out a dozen in one week and a few now and again. Another reason is that they love to camp out on our back porch. Uh....if you know anything at all about inconsiderate, indiscriminate, indiscrete, unscrupulous, uncaring, and totally selfish chickens, you know that you don't want forty chickens anywhere near your house and much less on your back patio. The mess is indescribable. So, we are hesitant to allow our birds to free range. But, we were forced to do it because of the coop and because of the fact that there are pigs in the coop now.

The piggies had to be placed in the far back part of the coop where the layer boxes are because the rest of the coop is filled with mud and water. It's still wet back there but it's not as muddy and their food doesn't get contaminated. But, the layers can't get to their boxes so, you guessed it, we no longer have fresh eggs on hand. 

Our options were limited so a friend and brother, Scott, who has a ranch up in Yokhol Valley (ten miles north of us), when apprised of the matter, agreed to take the birds off our hands. He already has a bird herd so they'll be in good hands up there. We still have a a few roosters but they're now listed on "Craig's List" and "Next Door" so should be gone soon. A few hens managed to escape the purge so we'll see what happens with them. If the coop dries out, we can always find a way to shoo them in after we rehome the piglets. Perhaps we'll have a few fresh eggs after all. In any case, I'm no longer the Duke of Cluckingham. 

iPhone, you phone, we all phone home Or Bye bye old phone

Our old model 7S iPhone has been operating nominally since day one. The motto around here is, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it". However, the old communicator wasn't broken; it was worn out. The charging port/data port simply wore out and cables weren't making contact with. So, it wouldn't charge and you couldn't retrieve pictures and such. So, it was time to head to "Amazon" to order a new one. 

Amazon was chosen because the have a warranty and because the sell a tested product. The old phone was, in fact, purchased from Amazon. After a lot of hunting and tracking, a really nice iPhone 13 was selected. Even though it was a bit older, it was the highest performance iPhone of its time. The price? The price really was a tad higher than I wanted to pay but, all in all, I chipped for it. 

The bloody thing has a learning curve and old people hate learning curves. That means the old folks around here are swiping their....fingers off with a "swipe swipe here and a swipe swipe there". They are swiping everywhere! They should be expert swipers in no time (is this a good thing?!). The slightly larger screen is appreciated as is the larger data storage (128GB vs 32GB).

The coolest part about the entire matter is that you set the two phones next to each other, touch a couple of buttons, and the new phone sucks the guts out of the other phone and self-installs it in only a few minutes!! That's impressive! It didn't have a scratch on it when it arrived. In only a week, it looks like it had been drug through a swamp then dried with a hammer! A case was ordered; it came today. The old folks are looking forward to a long and happy relationship with this high performance rig. 

Fun fact: today's cell phones are far more powerful than the computers that ran NASA's space program until about the year 2000.

 So....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 having to return to the rancho for something: home to one duck that we try to keep in a row (which is difficult since he's retarded): 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.