November Already?! What the ....heck?!

A lot has been happening at “Rancho Relaxo” in the past month. Connie and I have managed to make it to the new grandson’s dedication in Palos Verdes and the barn project is actually coming to a conclusion …after ten months!

The trip to see the kids in Harbor City was wonderfully uneventful. That simply means that we didn’t encounter but few fools who tried to kill us on the way down there. In fact, I-5 and I-405 were comparatively tame. We did get slowed down a bit on the return trip but that was anticipated. Sometimes you almost have to shoot your way out of town.

So, we now have a dedicated grandson whose name is officially, Kuyper Churchman Howden. He is a rather big boy, over 20 pounds at 7 months old. He’ll be the family “rolly polly” boy for now. We may end up calling him “Champ” since there isn’t another kid around that can whip him in his weight and age group. It seems somewhat incongruous since he’s also a big marshmallow and marshmallows aren’t particullary known for being a top name on the boxing charts. The dedication was at the “Rolling Hills Covenant Church” which is a rather large worship facility in Palos Verdes.  It's the home church of Kuyper's parents, Trixie and Dan Howden (who also just happen to be the parents of Thatcher, Liesl, and Cosette Howden).

After the dedication we all went to a super duper eatery called, “Ruby’s” in Palos Verdes. It was a “retro” place with a 1950’s motif that had a rebuilt carnival bumper car in their front window. I’m sure the car had to do with the motif because I didn’t see barbequed bumper cars on the menu. They also have a skating rink in the middle of the mall. That’s something that you don’t see around Porterville or Springville. Of course, Porterville isn’t exactly a real town yet and Springville is still a village inhabited by cavemen in comparison. Connie knocked out a “Hawiaan Burger” and I took on the fish and chips. Burps all around.

Business has been brisk. During one recent week, we had five people drop off six computers. Ol’ Ran didn’t have time to even go get a haircut. That left me trying to dodge the county dog catcher for awhile until I could find the time to get my ears lowered. I was pretty shaggy by the time I climbed into the barber’s chair. That’s not a complaint, though, because all those nice folks paid on time to redeem their beloved box of microchips.

One client opened up a file that appeared to be from FedEx. It basically gutted Windows XP. I had to re-install the operating system, drivers, and such. The obvious moral of the story is not to open any such files without confirming their origin. No, your antivirus program (regardless of brand) will not protect you when you authorize a toxic download. It’s more or less an override of the A/V system when you do that.

The weather has cooled down and we’ve been experiencing wonderfully mild autumn days. The day times are mostly sunny but we’ve had a day or two of cloudy weather with a tad of rain. The evenings cool down to the high 30’s and low 40’s. We could get a bit of rain in a day or two. The low 40’s environment didn’t stop the Wednesday evening jam session at the “River Ridge Ranch” here in Springville. On Wednesday evenings, folks gather for a “BYO” gig in a super nice outdoor facility and listen to local musicians do their thing. Some folks bring their dinner, some bring their dessert, some bring their wine, beer, or booze, and some just bring their ears. Everyone has a good time. The ranch is located a couple of miles up Balch Park Road and on the north fork of the Tule River. Different styles and different instruments ranging from banjos to cellos are deployed along with excellent singing talent. There is even a poet and story teller that show up.

Ol’ Ran the Picker usually turns up with a bass guitar, a lead guitar, and an accoustic rhythm guitar and a couple of amps. Of course, I bring both tonsils so that I can warble a song or two. I do a mix of stuff that includes a Bluegrass number or two but usually like to make sure that a Ray Price song is incorporated in the jam at some point.

And now the barn. After too many months of dealing with a big mess gone wrong, we’re coming to a delightful conclusion with our barn project. The steps to the upper floor are no longer a hazard to mankind (in the beginning, an elephant would have been at risk!). We had the contractor move the landing up one step which eliminated the dangerous 14” drop. He then rebuilt the stairs up to the landing. It worked out great!

Next, we now have shelves that can hold an enormous amount of stuff (and the Minnicks have a lot of stuff!). At first it appeared that we would only have an 8’ x 40’ area with no shelving at all in which to store things. However, once we understood what was happening, we changed the program. Now we have a 20’ x 40’ storage area with shelves.

A really nice aspect is that there is now an 8’ x 10’ room upstairs in the barn for the Ham radio operator in the family. Ol’ WA6IXI now has a place for his Short Wave and Ham radio equipment. It’s well insulated so it won’t take much to heat and cool it. There is a cool studio lighting system over where the desk will be and there will soon be a ceiling fan with a light fixture overhead as well. The built-in shelves will allow for storing radio and computer goodies too. Toss in a cot and pillow, a small 4 cubic foot refridgerator full of Diet Pepsi and Diet Royal Crown Cola, and maybe some gedunks, and the old brass pounder will be good to go.

All I have to do is to convince the old Ham dude to string some antennas so that he can have ears to hear. I’ll be keeping one of my Short Wave receivers in my main office upstairs in the house. That’ll require a longwire antenna. I can tune it with my MFJ-949 antenna tuner with no problems at all. When I acquire a Ham transceiver, the other MFJ-949 will be used to tune its antenna. Most likely, the antenna will be a vertical. I’d rather not deal with a directional/beam antenna for now. At some point I may string a multi-band dipole. We’ll see. With the MFJ tuner I can almost load a lawn chair (i.e. make resonant to a given frequency).

Not long ago we had the opportunity to go to Fresno to see an old friend whom we hadn’t seen in several years. After a pleasant but all-too-short visit, we made our way to my favorite Japanese restaurant. It’s the “Central Fish Market” at Kern and G streets in the golden west side. It’s situated across from the venrated “Komoto’s Department Store”. Instead of ordering my usual “Kitsune Udon” noodle dish, I engaged the seafood side of the menu and had the shrimp tempura while Connie dug deep into the chicken teriyaki plate. Nobody left the place hungry.

We also shopped in their store for a few oriental foodstuffs to take home. Perhaps the chef of the house can whip up a nice Japanese soup dish, eh?

The Lord willing and the toilets don’t overflow, in a couple of weeks we will probably be eastward bound. We had hoped to make it to Kingsbury, Texas for the semi-annual “Old Kingsbury Aerodrome Fly-in” on November 12^th. That simply didn’t happen. Rancher Ran and Rancherette Connie were just too loaded down with things to do to be able to comfortably pull the trip off this early. Usually, the fly-in is only a week before Thanksgiving. This time it was two weeks prior. As it was, we would have had to scurry to make the fly-in. The activities at “Rancho Relaxo” were just to many and too formidable to be able to depart that early. We couldn’t even finish servicing the ranch Freestar van in time. The best that we could muster was new tires, an oil change, and new wiper blades. The tranny still has to be serviced and something isn’t quite right with the CVJ’s. They make a noise when I’m in reverse.  If that isn't enough to make you chase a duck, the windshield wiper cleaner system isn't working properly. It spits instead of spewing. I need that to be functioning prior to a long trip into parts of America that are known to have inclement weather.

In fact, it appears that we aren’t going to make to Texas for Thanksgiving Day either. That isn’t necessarily a “bummer dude” environment though it was our first hope. After pondering the matter, by waiting, we would actually have additional quality time with the family. Quality time is our friend so we will delight in it.

The downside is the weather. Only God knows what the weather will be like in Texas in December. I’ve been there in January. Without controversy I can attest to the fact that it is as cold as an Ophelia crab’s bottom in the Bering Sea during the winter time.

I had a flat tire just outside of Sweetwater some years ago. Unfortunately, I have not tasted their water so I cannot attest to its sweetness. However, though great story tellers, I am not aware that Texans are great liars so I am yet convinced that the good folks of Sweetwater do, indeed, drink sweet water (although it may now be sweetened with a bit of “Sweet-N-Low” due to health considerations, don’tcha know). Anyway, my cell phone had about 30 seconds of battery left and went dead as I was apprising my son that I would be a tad late getting to Abilene. Had the Texas State Troopers not stopped to help only a couple of minutes later, I would have been a frozen Randy-cicle in no time.

Stay tuned for more adventures from the “yo-yo twins”, Randy and Connie (yo-yo  meaning that we leave the house only to return [sometimes more than once!] for whatever items that we forgot in the first place).

Rancho No Relaxo

Rancho No Relaxo

There just isn’t a lot of “relaxin’” going on here at the ranch at this time. Man! Talk about “hustling”! We got back from the trip to Washington and hit the decks a’runnin’!

For one thing, we had business to take care of. Our clients were considerate enough to wait until we got home to have computer issues (ain’t they sweet?). But, once we were firmly on Rancho Relaxo turf, they were quite demanding (isn’t it great to be missed?).

It took us a few days to get re-acclimated to our old stompin’ grounds and chasing down our one duck to get him in a row. But, after that it was merely chaos with which to contend.

For another thing, we are still gluing together the mess that our building contractor made. We were told that our barn would be built and finished within “a few weeks”. Seven months later our barn is not completed and some of the other items with which he dealt are completely unacceptable! So, we had to deal with that. If this is your day off and you don’t mind taking the “long way to Tulsa”, here we go!

The first thing we had to do was to fire our contractor. I hated to do that but the man was simply an incompetent fool. I have little or no time to deal with fools of any sort or caliber. Being a fool is optional as far as I can tell so it isn’t necessary. This is particularly applicable when the fool is also a liar and a con man. He is on the drop edge of going to jail unless I can get some satisfactory resolutions to this matter from him.  

After firing the man, who has cost us about ten thousand dollars (so far) beyond what we had expected, we contacted a local contractor who was immediately available to help. We love this guy! Bob Sanford gave us a light at the end of the tunnel and advised us that he could handle the matter and bring it to a conclusion. I am placing this guy way high on my Christmas list!! He’s my hero!

So, some of the speed skating happening around here was to find this reputable contractor. When we did, we also found that our previous contractor had “lost” the inspection card, plans, and relevant paper work for our barn project. Great. Does this sound like the work of a “professional”? That meant that we had to drive to Visalia (about an axel greasin’ from here – about 30 min.) to the Tulare County permit department and get duplicate copies of the requisite paperwork. That’s just great given the fact that I have computers that are in need of my golden screw driver. My clients are suffering computer withdrawals and here I am chasing all over the place cleaning up after a less-than-reputable contractor and there is a lot more to this story!

For instance: we had him build us a 15’ x 40’ patio cover. The morons who put the roof on basically destroyed it in the process. Now, that’s true professionalism. For one thing, they used the wrong materials to cover the lower pitch roof. They used 30 pound felt instead of the requisite “Stick and Peel”. For another, they didn’t cover our beautiful 5/8” tongue and groove roof with OSB (oriented strand board, which is basically a competitor for plywood). This means that, when they used their jackhammer nail guns, they blew through the shingles and the wood and cracked, split, and otherwise destroyed the soft tongue-and-groove roof. Ain’t that just swell?

Then, the painters didn’t seal it on the underside. So, now the knot holes bleed through. Can you spell, “I D I O T S”? Our contractor hired a crew of unlicensed illegal aliens. And, guess what? We paid the price. We found out later that he “used to be a good contractor but then he got greedy and began to cut corners”. Oh, really?! That was no surprise by this time. 

Speaking of painters, they didn’t do hardly any “cut-in” work. Some places were bare wood. Others were the wrong color while others only had an insufficient coat of paint. The local Girl Scout troupe could have done better.

If that wasn’t enough to make you slap your grandma, the roofers left places on the roof that were bare of the undercover felt material and they didn’t use the small sealers used to isolate the nail holes when installing the flashing against the house. This means that any water or rain would have immediate access to the wood and probably the house! In only a few years we would have had a monstrous wood rot issue on the roof and with the house! Imagine my chagrin when I noted that they even had the 30 pound felt undercoating material over (instead of under) the composite roofing material in one place! I was dumbfounded!

The new contractor put OSB over the tongue-and-groove and obviated the issue of further damage to the roof. He also put down to the proper “Peel and Stick” material for the lower pitch roof. He then properly installed the composite roofing material and actually covered the entire roof instead of just most of it. His son and business partner will be painting the underside after sealing it. Amazing, eh?

To deepen the concern, the previous lout installed the incorrect piping for our propane powered stand-by residential generator. It had to be dug up and replaced. The new contractor fixed it right away.

The good news is that any trip to Visalia means that we get to knock over Costco’s hot dog stand. Connie always has the hot dog combo with ketchup and I always have the Polish dog combo with mustard. Doesn’t it just make your day to get a nice huge hot dog and a soda for a buck and a half? Such a deal! It just touches this old yard sale-er’s heart, don’tcha know.  But, there was no rest for the weary. We had to boogie on back to Springville to get ready for our big yard sale.

We also just hosted a huge 16 family yard sale that coincides with the Springville “Apple Festival”. Let us get a perspective on this. A yard sale is brutal in and of itself. Multiply that by a factor of 16 and you have a “chore” on your hands. Yes! We had 16 individuals/families parked on our front lawn! You should have seen it! It looked like a carnival of some sort! HAH! There were canopies galore! We supplied three of them. One was a 10’ x 10’ job while the other two were 13’ x 13’ covers.

It was hard even for us to comprehend. We had cars lined up on both sides of 32874 Highway 190, Springville, CA (Google it) for ….a block! It was constant foot traffic aaaaaaaaall daaaaaaay loooooong for three days! One car would pull out and one or two would pull in! We found out later that we were the “talk of the town”. I shouldn’t wonder!

All-in-all, it was a great time for all but I must admit that it was a bit taxing on our aging airframes. If we continue at this pace, we’ll be grounded by an AD (“Airworthiness Directive” from the FAA) until we can fix our broken bodies. There is talk of another such wallet shaking event this coming spring but, Ol’ Ran and Ol’ Con are not so sure yet. We’re going to wait until our muscles are not influencing our thought processes.

To add a bit of velocity to our dealings, this morning we were conversing with the contractor, answering the phone, and handling two new clients, all at the same time! Within a short time we also had to prepare to go to “Hooterville” and then on to the “real town” of Visalia. We were headed that way so that we could shop in real stores but then we had to go to Kaweah Delta Hospital to see cousin, Sharon Sanders (we covet your prayers).

Back at the Ranch, we also had the A/C man, a good friend from high school, come out and follow up on our evaporative cooler that he installed. It has a “purge” function that the old one didn’t have. So, he had to add a drain line that emptied into the (new) gutter.

It’s actually nice to be busy and perhaps even hectic from time to time. There are no complaints issuing from the ranch foreman and his sidecook (sic) Connie (though their bodies are in revolt). All is well. We are blessed.

Stay tuned for the updates as the new contractor makes the place look presentable so that the “Yo-Yo Twins”, Connie and Randy (more on this later) won’t be ashamed of their new barn and patio cover. It will be the “New Rancho Relaxo”.

They're Back!!

Rancho Relaxo Update 9-14-11

After a whirlwind week of packing, stacking, racking, and driving, along with seeing relatives and eating our way through three states, we have landed back at “Rancho Relaxo” where we plan on…relaxing… for a couple of days. Ha, ha, ha! You thought I was serious, didn’t you?! We hit the deck a’runnin’ and haven’t been able to do much resting.

From another perspective, though we are certainly running to catch up to the freight train, it’s still more like the old saying, “I have to go back to work so I can get some rest”. We’re tired. Well, we started tired so I think we are now “exhausticated”. There are few body parts that are not protesting their abuse.  I haven't noticed my left ear lobe complain as of  yet. So, we’re still getting our one duck in a row. We're trip spun but are otherwise doing about as good as dull knife in a butcher shop.

The weather was most accommodating while away and the espresso coffee up yonder was outstanding. When you are in the Pacific Northwest, you can throw a rock and hit a place the sells espresso. Even McDonalds sells the sweet elixer of life! The place where I used to buy latte’s twenty years ago is still making them at the same “half price” deal. “Brew me up a triple latte’”, says I. You can bet that the special deal added some extra savor to the mix. After searching around a bit, a couple of nice bags of coffee found their way into our bags too.

It was nice to see friends and family again. We only get to see them once per year so we savor the reunion. Reckon Ol’ Ran will have to come up with a nice fast airplane so that he can see his kith and kin more often. Anyone feeling sorry for Ol’ Ran may feel free to contribute to the “Feel Sorry For Ol’ Ran” benefit fund. I think the starting contribution is around 100 bucks (tee hee). A free tear towel and handkerchief is included for no extra remuneration. I'm thinking about starting a website too so I can garner mega contributions (you can't possibly think that I am serious, eh?).

One treat was an absolutely super BBQ'd pork and baked salmon fest hosted by long-time friend and brother, Jeff Edgecomb. I think the guy is a magician when it comes to BBQ’ing stuff. His pork was incredibly tasty and fell apart in your mouth. Unreal! He uses a dried tomato rub and apple juice (I may be incorrect given the fact that he was speaking English into my one good ear. He should have used Morse Code). I couldn’t figure out the combination until I tasted it. I’m a convert, to be sure! The baked salmon that he and his mother prepared was absolutely stunning in its simplicity. They tossed some butter on it along with a pinch of salt and wrapped it up on aluminum foil. It was fabulous!

I guess that that's why I still miss the Pacific Northwest after having lived there for about 5 years. There seems to be no lack of fresh fish (trout, steelhead, and salmon for the most part) and no lack of elk. Not only that, the weather is fairly moderate, all things considered. There are times that come to mind when I lived there that it was 106 degrees in this area yet it was only about 78 degrees or so in Longview. Granted it does get rather chilly in the winter. But, I have long sleeve shirts and a couple of nice leather jackets to help with keeping the "California Kid" comfortable.

Now the good part: the yard sales in Longview, WA have officially been strip mined by the "Dynamic Duo of Yard Sales", Connie and Randy. Talk about some bargains! Folks were almost throwing goodies at us!! Fortunately, we had the 8' x 12' covered trailer, "Heffalump", with us. The treasures are almost too numerous to list. However, some of the items include a nice grass seed spreader, an AM/USB/LSB Cobra CB radio, a marine communications receiver, all kinds of stuff and collectibles to sell on Ebay, cords and wires galore, fishing rods and reels (I only have about 50 rods and reels so I have to be prepared, don’tcha know), a router, an new antenna mounting kit, a battery free (grind your own) flashlight, cook books (yum yum), and a host of other really neat things.

Add to that, my buddy, Jeff, gave us a like-new Bow-Flex exercise machine! All I have to do now is hire someone to use it! HAR! All seriousness aside, we hope to find a spot in the new barn (which is already way too small) in which to install this large chunk of man-humiliating pulleys and iron.

If I fit an exercise regimen into the daily calendar I will have to arise and greet the day at about 4AM so that I can study for my instrument rating, mow the lawn and do the farm work, shoot a few ground squirrels, study the Bible and pray, and make my daily espresso while getting ready for work. Seeing as how I usually work until midnight or later each day, this could be…how you say…”very interesting”.

We're tiiiiiired to be sure but had a great time seeing the kids and EATING. I have to mention that because we got to knock over the “Five Guys’ Burgers and Fries” place in Arlington (just north of Marysville). It’s ranked as one of the top burger places in the entire country. I have no doubt about it. This was our second go around with the place and we were not disappointed at all. If we lived up there, I'd weigh 400 pounds in no time.

As far as the calorie counting is concerned, we also hit the “Golden Corral” in Marysville. I honestly don’t try to eat until I make money at a buffet. It just seems to happen that way with only my fork getting a vote because my brain slid into neutral and just watched things happen. How on earth is a human being suppose to resist the incredible stack of food they offer? My frailty was upon me that day. I hurt the breaded shrimp population and thinned the school of deep fried fish planks.They'll need to re-build their shredded pork, ham, and cheese biscuit supply, too.

Anyway…it's nice to be back at home where we have a bit more control over dietary concerns and sleeping provisions. I don’t mind bunking at a motel because it’s something different and we can watch the news. That may seem insignificant to some but we don’t have TV service of any kind here at the ranch. It's on purpose because we simply don't have time to watch it and, other than a few things like PBS, there is almost nothing on network television that's worth watching anyway. We'll be dipped in "Cheese Whiz" (or horse whiz for that matter) before we shell out big bucks for cable or satellite. So, it’s nice to turn on the “Discovery Channel”, "The Travel Channel", "The Food Channel", "The Science Channel" and then drop down to “Fox News” or such and look at what’s happening around the world to see who is about to blow us all up.

Daughter, Brandi’s, significant other, Brian, hosted an excellent spaghetti dinner that was as good as any that I’ve ever tasted! We stuffed ourselves with garlic toast and spaghetti and a nice batch of brownies that grandson, Cade, a newly minted Kindergartener, and Connie prepared earlier. It was so terribly difficult to not overeat that....I didn't try. I succumbed to gluttony that night but will make it up by eating sawdust and worms for a few weeks. I'm probably kidding myself since my wife will not allow me to do that. She's not a big sawdust or worm fan. Guess I'll have to just eat normal things like hamburgers, tacos, stews, beans and hamhocks with cornbread, Pho (Vietnamese soup), BBQ'd and grilled steaks, pork, and chicken, and such. Oh, poor Ran.

Part of our big agenda was to see Cade off to his very first day at school. We hauled his young and wide-awake  carcass (at least two older folks were not quite that perky that early in the AM) to the old “Highland High School” building in nearby Arlington that is now being used as a Christian school. It’s a perfect fit.

His mother, grandmother, and I doted about and watched him settle in. Of course, you almost couldn’t hear yourself think what with all the parents snapping pictures all during the break-in period. Once settled in, Cade was left to himself to capture the attention of those about him (which he seems to do rather easily). Brandi was a bit teary due to the strain of dealing with a beloved child who is growing up and out but we all managed to survive the first day at Kindergarten. I told her, "It's amazing what happens when you feed children".

After our stay in Marysville, we loaded up our stuff and headed south to Longview which is about 3 1/2 hours away. It's not all that bad a drive but you do have to pay attention as I-5 can be quite treacherous. Some folks seem to have a death wish but, unfortunately, they seem to kill others and not themselves (to which I can attest having been in the paramedical profession for most of ten years).

The stay in Longview was really nice as well. It was son, Michael's, 39th birthday. You can't help but notice that, when your youngest son is pushing the big FOUR-O, your descending colon begins to erupt in spasms of joy. We got to spend quality time with them but really wish we had one more day so that Mike and I could jam a bit. He has his drum kit set up and ready so he just needs someone to make some noise on a G-tar to be able to rock on.

 Mike, Roxanne (Mike's wife), Connie, and I took down the "Red Lobster" in nearby Kelso and had a great time. The servers seemed to enjoy singing "Happy Birthday To You" to Mike since he is a former employee there and knew some of them. My pick of the menu was the fish and chips. Connie dug into the chicken sandwich. Mike and Roxanne clobbered the chicken strip dinner. No one left the place hungry, I can assure you.

Connie and I hadn't been to a "Red Lobster" since last year at the same time and same place on our previous visit north. We have a "RL" store in Visalia but haven't bothered to drop in. I suppose it's because there is a "Home Town Buffet" just down the street from them.

After hugs all around, we departed Longview on Sunday at approximately 4:30PM and drove to Grants Pass, OR (about 5 hours if you are hauling a large trailer). The next morning we departed at about 9:30AM due to the fact that we were tired and had slept in. Also, it was our day off and we wanted to avail ourselves of the continental breakfast at the Shiloh Inn. Some places are rather skimpy on their continental breakfast but this place was a definate "thumbs up".

It was a long long day but we made pit stops to get gas and to load up on food. At one "Pilot" truck stop we grabbed a couple of chili cheese hot dogs. At that point we became "myth busters". That myth is that you can eat a chili cheese dog in the car without making a mess.  It can never be said after this time that you can actually accomplish this feat.

I should have gotten the hint at the register. The guy behind the counter said, "Do you know that you have chili on your left hand?". Then he said, "You also have chili on your right wrist and....your pocket". Great. A true friend, eh?  I should have just walked away, dumped the dogs, and grabbed the "two for $2.22" tasteless and cold hamburgers. Instead, I plowed my way back to the van and settled in with my teeth in full battle array. Alas, before the dog-noshing event was over, I was looking for a hose and a couple of wheel barrows full of dry towels. No telling what a professional would have charged to make this big of a mess. *Sigh*

When we hit the manicured rock driveway at home a full twelve hours later (9:30 PM), the trip odometer had clicked a tad past 2,300 miles for the round trip. The van had valiantly made the trip without complaint but her tires are going to require some attention as will the transmission. We'll service the old trooper prior to our trip to Texas.

Our bodies are tired and some parts are even flattened, deflated, and/or calloused. Some parts are aching and some are yelling at us while others are threatening us with dire consequences if we don’t discontinue the abuse. In order to quell the uprising, we came back home and crashed in wonderful peace (at least until the next morning when it was "business as usual"). It’s not often I’m in alignment and agreement with my body parts but this time I was glad to be allied with them. In November, when we head for Texas, I’m betting I’ll have to battle against another body parts rebellion.  

Stay tuned for more reports from the overweight middle-aged white guy.

Rancho Buzzo

The Buzz

The folks at “Rancho Relaxo” have been busy as bees lately. We’ve been trying to get our barn built since….May. UGH. It is almost finished but requires some “tweaking” yet. The stairs need to be finished (the railing, and step covering, etc) and we have a small issue with the electrical. Though everything seems to be up and running, the outside carriage lights and the upper area flood lamp are not working. They are going to install two ceiling fans in the barn and then two 48” florescent light fixtures and bulbs in the upstairs storage area. We had asked them to do that but the contractor “knew better” so he only installed three simple single 100W bulb fixtures.

For some reason we keep expecting the tradesmen to do what we ask and to do it correctly (silly us). However, we are continually running into a dynamic that we can only conclude as a “TMD” (“typical Mexican deal”). In fact, a dear Mexican friend and brother, Trinidad Ortiz, looked around at our barn and, without solicitation or hesitation, asked, “Did Mexicans do this work?”. He had seen this (low) level of workmanship before and was disappointed for our sake but not shocked.

This is also to say that, other than the contractor himself, there have only been two Caucasian workers on our rather extensive (dare I say “expensive”?) project of building the barn, building the patio cover, installing two evaporative coolers (one on the house and the other on the barn), and trenching for the electrical work and for the propane lines for the residential generator.

We’re finding that the Mexicans have many positive attributes.  One attribute is that they show up for work (now, there’s an amazing concept) which we’re also finding the “white guys” are disinclined to do. However, it seems to us that they also just apply the very minimal that’s required of them.

On that note, Trinidad was also advising that many of the Mexican workers he’s familiar with will work for about thirty minutes then take a break for awhile (I think “siestas” are their friends). As I can personally testify, Trinidad works until the job is done and rests only when it is reasonable and at lunch time. He is a true friend and a true treasure.

The picture becomes painfully clear when you consider that too much of our barn assembly has been what you can call “slap dash”. When it came to our second story, it was almost like they threw the boards to the floor then nailed everything in place where they lay. That’s a somewhat theatrical description but not far at all from being accurate. Connie and I just stood dumbfounded. Some of the bracing boards for the trusses where as much as 15 degrees out of level! There’s no way to build shelving with such a mess. We were unable to fathom how anyone could conscience such a deviation from the norm!

Loosing Our Cool

We ordered our evaporative cooler back in May. The previous year, our leaky, old, and tired swamp cooler saved us approximately 50% on our energy usage for staying comfortable compared to only using our AC units (one for upstairs and one for downstairs) for this year. A month ago, we finally got the thing installed (by Mexicans). They told us that the unit was a 240v model. I had specifically ordered the 110v model so thought this to be odd. When apprised of this “fact” about the wrong voltage, the contractor dutifully called his preferred electrician who wired the circuit for 240v. That should have been the end of the matter. Not so.

Because the first air conditioning guys washed their hands of the matter (another TMD because you would think that they would want to work and get paid), the contractor called yet another A/C crew in. They hooked up everything and threw the switch only to see the 240v COOK the 110v motor. Seems that these incompetents didn’t understand ENGLISH well enough to interpolate their environment. The motor was fried and so was I.

Come to find out, the unit was, indeed, the 110v model that was ordered. However, the manufacturer had plastered the wiring diagram for the 240v model on an inner panel of the unit. They (los hermanos) didn’t have sense enough to figure this all out so now we’re going to have to pay huge A/C bills because the cooler will likely not be available at all this season. Ain’t that enough to make you want to slap your nanny? We’re trying to deal with the contractor, Home Depot, and the manufacturer for a replacement motor as of today.

Another friend who works for Southern California Edison advised us to find a third-party source and just fix the bloody thing. I called high school friend, Darrell Blassingame (“Darrell’s Heating and Air”) and left a message about the dilemma. I’m sure that he will get back to me on Monday (he, did, in fact, return my call this morning and made an appointment). After that we can simply address the issue with a lawsuit if necessary. In any case, we hope to have a working swamp cooler.

Yard Sale City!

We just survived our thirteen-family yard sale this previous weekend. This was not our “first rodeo”. The two of us are well-seasoned yard sale’ers so, though difficult, we managed to have a good time of it. It did take a toll on our aging airframes so we’re still recovering.

After the sale, many of the folks just left the “tailings” here to be picked up by the local “Sheltered Workshop”. They run a thrift store which sits back from the corner of Olive and F streets. It’s “Value Village” now but which, when we were teenagers, was a grocery store (that later failed for whatever reason). They deal with helping handicapped kids so we have no problems helping them.

However, that meant that lots of “free stuff” was there for the picking. So, we did just that and looked through a few boxes and availed ourselves of a few things. Another dynamic was that, for the next couple of days after the yard sale closed up, people were still coming in and buying things. That meant that we are still making a few more shekels! Shekels are our friends! Most of the proceeds will fund our trip to WA.

Hot Shot!

I finally got my Mossberg Model 817 17HMR (Hornady Magnum Round) bolt action rifle glued together. I had to wait for the BSA “Sweet 17” scope because the rifle doesn’t come with an iron sight. I fired a few shells through it to tighten up the scope but I need to really dial it in. Long-time friend Jerry Lewis has access to a range and probably a shooting bench and a pair of binoculars so I may have some options (I’ll buy the targets. HEHEH). Otherwise, I’ll just pin a target to a tree at 100 yards. I may not have to since I’ve already nailed a ground squirrel out that far. Another option is a “bore sight”. You simply screw the device into the barrel, turn it on, then sight in on a target. When you’ve adjusted the scope, you’re good to go. We’ll see.

The .17 cal is a really sweet item. It zips along at around 2550 fps (at least the ammo I buy states this as fact). That’s at least twice as fast as the .22 cal long rifle bullet. What is really nice is that the bullet is either 17 or 20 grain and it doesn’t have a lot of mass even when compared to the venerable .22 cal ammo. If you hit something hard with this bullet, it will simply disintegrate instead of ricocheting off into the neighbor’s back yard or such. The scope is quite a bit larger than the one on the Ruger 10/22 .22 cal rifle so I’m looking forward to actually hitting what I see. HAR! In fact, I’ll likely put another “Sweet 17” on my 10/22 and dial it in.

I’m also looking to put a Wolfe hammer and spring kit into the 10/22 so that I can mitigate the 6lb trigger pull. Having to use both feet and both hands to pull the trigger is throwing me off by quite a bit. I talked with the local gunsmith who said that he can do the upgrade for me.

Getting Trashed!

Today was “dump run” day. The dump (technically, it’s a “transfer station”. I guess they transfer it to Russia or someplace) here is only open on Friday’s and Saturday’s. We haven’t been to the dump in about two months so our trash got so large that it was about to start ordering us around. That also meant that we had to enlist the aid of the “real trailer” which is the big white 6’ x 12’ covered rig that we bought last year.  

We filled our big white trailer, “Heffalump”, to the gunnels with everything from the usual household trash and yard sale tailings to broken down computer desks and cardboard boxes. Connie and I were quite the tuckered twosome after that adventure. At least we won’t have to stumble over our trash for now.

We did get blessed at the dumpsite too. Instead of the usual 35 clams to accept our stuff (because of being in such a large trailer), he only charged us for two pickup loads worth of trash (12 bucks times two = 24.00)! I can live with that. The guy that runs the place knows that Connie and I always clean up the area with a couple of brooms so he sometimes cuts us some slack.

Ditch Dealing

In a few days another contractor will come to fill in the trenches that had to be dug for the electrical conduit and for the propane tank lines for the residential generator (that has been patiently waiting installation on the driveway for months!). I will have my back yard in my possession for the first time since last March. The casual observer will note that I don’t actually have a back yard at this time. What is there is an arid patch of hard dirt and dead yellow grass and in which there are a couple of trees that are fighting for survival. I suppose it’s all for “the cause”.

The contractor who is filling in the trenches will also build the apron or ramp to the barn entrance. The barn was built upon a 10” pad of decomposed granite per county ordinance. That left it sitting quite high because the ground upon which it is situated happens to be a tad below grade in regard to the rest of the terrain (i.e. it sits in a hole). So, we now have to build an almost 20” high apron to even reach floor level! I couldn’t make it up the steep pad and into the barn with the little ’85 Toyota pick-me-up truck the other day! He’s also going to use his backhoe to rip out a few old unproductive trees that are just in the way. There are a couple of other odd jobs he’s going to help with.

Trippin'

Getting back to the trip to WA, we’ve now postponed our trip by three more weeks. The trip north usually happens in July when we can escape the heat of the Valle de San Joaquin. If necessary, we may just shut down the entire project and “get outta Dodge” before this thing ends up being finished at Christmas time. It will be great to see friends and family again.

Last year, the good folks of Washington were suffering from an unexpected and brutal heat wave. We found that it was so very nice of them to time that with our arrival so that they could share their sweltering heat with us. That far north most folks don’t have air conditioners and can’t spell “A/C”. So, there were a lot of melted Washingtonians flowing around. At least the soft drink industry prospered significantly during that time. 

Dear friend and brother, Jeff Edgecomb, has announced that he will be preparing a feast for us while there. This won’t be the first huge feast he has hosted. We have been the recipients of Chef Jeff’s culinary expertise on a number of occasions. After covering us in deep fried sea food and hand crafted deserts, not a soul was able to leave the place hungry! There is often a jam session to boot!

The trip north will have barely cleared our short term memory when we will be departing for Texas in November. Most likely we will be there for Turkey Day. It’s really nice to get together on holidays with friends and family. Our family (Minnick, Sanders, Mitchell, Brown and other kith and kin) used to do that quite frequently. But, after the elders all passed away and after the youngin’s all moved out of the area, we rarely get to see each other.

Stay tuned to AM fourteen thrifty (where squawk is power) for more news and updates (a parody of the local radio station KTIP AM 1450 "Where 'TALK' is power").

SAFE!!

We’re “SAFE” in Springville. Well…at least our rifles and shotguns soon will be. We just mounted our 625 lb Patriot Safe Company 39 gun “Warrior” 59'' x 39'' x 27'' gun safe in the garage. It hasn’t been opened yet because no time has been allocated. The big beaut has been patiently sitting in the driveway for four months. She has been all decked out in cardboard and squatting on a wooden pallet all this time waiting to be included in the family. It happened today.

We borrowed a pallet jack from great friends, Mike and Frankie Archer, so that we wouldn’t have to hire elephants to move this beast.  It took a bit of shouldering and grunting but we finally pushed the huge chunk of beauty into place. The next step is to drill a hole in the concrete, hammer in a concrete anchor, and bolt it into place. 

Connie and Julie Hergersheimer (Christian friend and neighbor) spent a great deal of time in the heat (with the aid of the trusty and blustery “Turbo-Fan”) in the garage making way for the safe. Part of the plan was to clear the garage of “stuff” (most of which is just “ffuts” spelled backwards, don’tcha know) so that we can actually use it as a garage and to get ready for our huge (not an exaggeration) yard sale. The gals did a bang-up job at the expense of a lot of time and sweat.

Now…I don’t mind flexing what few muscles I have left. However, I have long known that when you flex a muscle, it equates to “work” and “work” equates to heat. Let it be known to all that “heat” is my enemy. I fiercely defend myself against heat of any nature except for food which needs to be near the molten point for me to enjoy it. If my food isn’t hot enough to rip off the top layer of skin on the roof of my mouth, I probably won’t enjoy it. It is recommended that you don’t ask about such a dynamic because Ol’ Ran can’t explain it to himself much less anyone else. The bottom line is that I did a “Garfield” and watched the gals do their thing while I stayed in the cool shop working on computers. Hey…there has to be a little bit of an income to pay the help!

“SALE”

Speaking of yard sales, our May yard sale is ready to go for this weekend. Oh…you did the math on that? I thought so. We’ve had to put it off because the barn wasn’t complete. The big twelve family (with more pending) yard sale has come upon us for this weekend so we’re up to our ears in getting ready. That means that we had to go to Exeter with the big white 6’ x 12’ covered trailer (nicknamed “Heffalump”) to pick up some yard sale goodies for dear minister friends, Paul and Sherry Breski.

On the return trip, we stopped at dear friend and fellow musician Bill Hull and his wife, Jan’s, place in Porterville to pick up some of their goodies. That filled the remaining 30% or so of the trailer’s available space. Then, we all headed to “Rancho Relaxo” to unload.

When we arrived, we found that our new awning cover for our eight pole 12’ x 20’ car port had arrived (the old one was trashed)! We had actually believed their initial shipping forecast that the cover would be available on the 5 of August. What a blessing that it arrived in time to be available for the yard sale! We all pitched in and got the cover pulled into place and secured in almost no time! It will afford at least some shade for the welcomed shoppers at our gala affair. We have a couple of other nice “easy up” awnings to work with as well.

It has to be noted that we originally had planned this big event to be concurrent with the “Springville Rodeo” in April. What with all of the hundreds of cars passing our place, there’s no way we could have anything but a successful yard sale. However, we just found out that the “Mountain Fest” musical event is being held in Camp Nelson this very weekend of the yard sale! There will be scads of people passing our way!

In all of our travels and loading, we’ve had to deal with a phenomenon called “summer heat”. And, that means that we were all melting into a puddle of primordial slime while we loaded and unloaded everything. What is really interesting is that it hasn’t been all that hot lately here in the Valley. It has been only about 95 degrees or so and will remain about that temperature for the next few days. “Hot” here means 105 to 110 degrees. I’m most thankful that it wasn’t hot enough to boil crabs in a crock pot but I’m still filling my armpits with a swamp when I have to be outside for any length of time.

“BARN”

The barn is almost finished! The electrical part has been completed and there are a few small finishing touches that will be needed. We’ve already started loading it up! The new swamp cooler is patiently waiting installation too. At least the water to the cooler has been plumbed (tied into the house line).

The apron/ramp still has to be built up to the floor. As it is, the floor of the barn stands almost 10” above the pad on which it was built. I couldn’t even get the little Toyota pickup in there! The contractor has a pile of dirt and a pile of DG (decomposed granite) with which to build it.

Also, the trench needs to be filled in and a couple of small trees removed. After that, I can think about having a lawn again. What’s there now is not a pretty sight after not having had water on it since March.

Stay tuned to find out how the big yard sale turned out!

JOE NO SAY

Well….it’s another beautiful day in paradise at the ol’ ranch. That is…if you consider 100 degrees Fahrenheit as being beautiful. It was 105 degrees a few days ago so the two of us ranchers have voted to be thankful for it only being a mere 100 degrees.

Things are “moving along” as we say in the local vernacular. Business is booming and we are blessed. For now the computer business is recession proof. In a few more years there will be fewer and fewer desktops because everything will be headed to the “CLOUD”. That means that everyone will simply store their data, pictures, and info, on remote servers “out there” somewhere in the “CLOUD” (i.e. on the Internet rather than locally on a desktop or laptop). At that time I will be reckoned as being the village blacksmith (which I suppose is much to be preferred than being referred to as the village idiot).

I’m working on “options” not the least of which is picking up my instructor’s rating since airplanes are not likely to become obsolete any time soon. I can't really earn a complete living as an instructor but I can probably rustle up some beans and rice. The old saying is that, "To make a small fortune as a flight instructor, you must start with a large one". Sheese...maybe I should just invest in gold or green cheese.

I just ordered some study materials for my instrument rating. "Ol' Studyin'  Ran" they call him. I passed this same test in '99 but the certificate is only good for a couple of years. There certainly have been some changes including those concerning GPS navigation. The challenge will be to get the same or better score. I got a 98%  last time (I missed one) so I'm shooting for 100% on this go around! I also handily passed the commercial written test (96%) shortly prior to the instrument written so will likewise have another challenge this time.

If I can swing it, there are some inventions and books that I am trying to get patented and copy written so that we may even…retire (what an amazing concept!). That would leave us free to pursue avenues of interest like traveling all over the country to knock over thousands of yard sales in every state! Man! What an achievement!

That also means that we need to add an airplane to our inventory of vehicles, too. I don’t mean to complain but, there are certain destinations that we are familiar enough with and just don’t need to take in the sights as we drive. The point is that, despite my love for driving, I’m finding that flying is much to be preferred at times. There’s no getting around the fact that traveling at 175 mph in an airplane is going to get you to church much faster than traveling by automobile.

We have been to Texas and Oklahoma on numerous occasions. There’s not much I want to see on the ground on the way there. In fact, the scenery on both I-10 and I-40 is rather dreary. In 1999 I drove my daughter to my son, Jeff’s, wedding in Abilene. She had yet to be that far out in to the southwest. Her comment was, “We’ve been driving for two days and the scenery hasn’t changed at all!”. Yep. That’s it in a nutshell. For such occasions, we need a nice fast airplane. We can get there, have fun, and be back in time to go to work.

We are thankful of a couple of things here at the summertime ranch. One is that we are not in Phoenix, AZ where the temp just broke a record. At 118 degrees in Phoenix, I’m thinking that lots of other things got broken! Like…the record for the shortest time to flee from the house to the pool or nearest lake! I can imagine that Theodore Roosevelt Lake is likely to be almost half its size now because of its water being hauled off by swimmers’ trunks and shorts.

I was in Phoenix several years ago in March when I was driving a car hauler with my cousin, Ross Sanders. It was above 90 degrees at the time when we were loading cars. I leaned up against the chrome trim on one of the cars and was all but branded! I can’t imagine what it would be like to work in such an inferno! Can't you just see something going down (with a car hauler) like, "Hey, dude! I love those Chinese tats". "Yeah. I got those from the chrome trim of an '09 Toyota the last time I was in Phoenix".

To celebrate the 4^th of July we decidedly did not attend the local fireworks display hosted by the Tule Indian Reservation. They, as the owners and operators of the local cash cow casino, now host just about everything in Porterville but the Elks Lodge meetings. In any event, I’m too old to go watch fireworks and cook in my own grease in the blistering heat. I’ve been there and done that many times and have sworn off.

In fact, I grew up with explosive fireworks. That was in the days when we were still under the Constitution and not regulated to death (for our own protection, don’tcha know). I have to admit to blowing up a number of horny toads while living in Rawlins, WY. Yeah, I know. I suppose it was a bit lacking in concern for the local environment. But, a ten year old kid really isn’t paying much attention to the EPA. In fact, this 62 year old kid still isn’t paying much attention to those idiots.

As a kid, I had access to “Black Cat’s”, “Lady Fingers” (sort of a little flat-red “micro explosive” that would certainly make your fingers tingle if it went off in your hand….guess how I know this fact?), and the mighty “Cherry Bombs” and “M-80’s”. Ah, yes, “Cherry Bombs” and “M-80’s”. 

Now to the soul of the explosives matter: it is difficult to explain the thrill of hearing a “Cherry Bomb” or “M-80” (equivalent to approximately ¼ stick of dynamite!) going off (keeping in mind that we’re still talking in reference to a dumb ten year old who is still in the life-long process of destroying his ability to hear things with both ears by using guns, airplanes, rock music, heavy equipment - earth movers, and sirens). The report is wonderful! It almost deafens you as it atomizes its target. The blast must have surely un-nerved grandparents in the neighborhood. All while the kids howled with glee as they demolished things for the modest price of a “Cherry Bomb” (which was about 25 cents each as I recall).

I and a few friends were in possession of a handful of said “Cherry Bombs” (named because they were round and red but they were much larger than a cherry) and, of course, they simply had to be detonated. It was our responsibility, after all, to employ our patriotism for the 4^th (blowing up things seems to be part of our American culture, for some reason). Our “victim” was a used quart oil can (that would be the old ones made of paper cylinders and with metal ends) found nearby at a local gas station. We lit the bomb and shoved it into the oil can’s open hole and then tossed it into an open dirt lot. We would have run for cover but there wasn’t any cover to be found. In a few moments I was quick to determine that I was unprepared to defend myself against the laws of physics. The bomb dutifully exploded and when it did, it flattened the oil can like it had been sent to the cleaners for pressing. That was the funny part. The un-funny part was that the ends blew off at slightly subsonic speeds and were much like razor-like Frisbees. In three-fifths of a second we all knew what that meant.

One of the local young demolition crew members (whose name but not face escapes me) was hit in the temple region of his noggin before any of us even knew what happened. The oil can lid had grazed the side of his head and left an ever-so-slight incision on his skin. It was obvious that his grandmother must have been praying for him since the lid could easily have impacted a couple of inches inward and could have sent him to the hospital for a bundle of stitches. My lightning-fast mind took note that we needed to find something else less hazardous to blow up.   

The barn is just about finished. The powered roll up door will be installed sometime next week (the barn was supposed to be finished last April…uh…May…uh…June). That’ll be nice. We have the side door installed and ready. With the installation of the 16’ roll up door, we can then be able to securely lock in and protect the field mice, snakes, snails, and spiders.

We’ve already started parking stuff up in the loft. My rod and reel collection has been tidily stowed on some of the trusses. Connie and I installed a bunch of hooks that now hold the rods and reels horizontally in a vertical row of 5 each. The next set of 5 is lateral to the previous set and so on for four rows so far. We've actually run out of room so I'll have to get creative to mount the other fifteen or so rigs. There’s more to come but I still need to overhaul more of the equipment. All I need is a day off to attend to it. *Sigh*.

In all of our building, we managed to have a new dog house built for Mighty Maggie the Wonder Dog. We named her that because she is mighty when it comes to sleeping and eating and we wonder if she will ever be a good guard dog. I want to say that there aren’t many cases of burglars being deterred by dog slobber.

In any event, we had the contractor build our sweet Maggie love dog, fearful of nothing other than if it moves or breathes and is bigger than a bee, a lovely new dog house. Now, it isn’t that we weren’t thankful for the old doggy house. It was a “freebie” and a blessing that kept Maggie the dog-asaur in out of the winter weather. However, it was in extreme need of an overhaul. The roof was never actually installed correctly and it did sag a bit in the middle. And, it wasn’t painted and was rather drab.

The new one, on the other hand, is sided with the same siding as the house and is trimmed in the same white trim! How neat is that?! It’s a real beauty! Since Maggie’s house is the same color and trim as the main house, we decided to call the new doggy digs, “Maggie’s Mansion”. It has been our concern, though, that Maggie may let all of this spoiling go to her furry head. We can already hear her petitioning for a swamp cooler.

“So, Randy, when are you going to get to the explanation of this month’s title?”. Oh, that. Yeah, well….you see….I really wanted to use this blogsite for personal use and the other ones for ranting and raving and making political statements. However, it has occurred to me that you sometimes can’t separate the two. Sooooo….let me elaborate.

Surely just about everyone knows that Ol’ Ran pumps red, white, and blue and is a strong Constitutionalist. He believes that Americans should be preferred over legal and illegal aliens. He believes that “our guys” should be given the first chance at employment and such. Apparently few others (in leadership and government, that is) believe this. In fact, there are fewer and fewer Americans being employed in this area. Almost all of them are aliens (and far too many are illegal).

Continuing….our barn, dog house, patio cover, the concrete work, water tank covering (to protect the new water tank), and our entire house exterior was painted by Mexicans most of whom had thick accents and some didn't speak English at all. I didn’t have a choice in the matter and was almost livid when the place was over run by Mexican workers. The contractor was an American. I asked the contractor, a good friend, why the entire crew was Mexicans. He basically said that, “The white guys are lazy and unreliable”. I didn’t know whether to throw up or cry. I did neither.

The only construction person I knew was the man who built the pad for the barn and who configured the ¾” rock for the driveway. I had seen his work and knew he was good at what he did. He was also a local guy and one of my computer clients. I insisted that he have the job.

So, for the interpretation: “Joe No Say” is actually the Americanized version of, “Yo no se” (Spanish for “I don’t know”). In some parts of the Spanish speaking world “yo” is pronounced with the more hardened sound, “jo”. It gives a bit of literary license to those who think themselves to be creative.

Well….there you have it. Why was all of the building and painting done by Mexicans though my deepest desire was to employ fellow Americans? Joe No Say…. I Just Don’t Know. As with much of politics, it was all shoved down my throat.  

EL RANCHO RELAXO IPSO FACTO

“Rancho Relaxo Ipso Facto”….sort of has a ring to it, don’tcha think? I guess it’s because “the facts speak for themselves” here at the ol’ ranch.

Like…the fact that we had to get up these previous two mornings at …yaaaawn…5:30. I gapped so much that, if I hadn’t have been stop-drilled at my ears, the top of my head would have fallen off. But, it was necessary because there was a lot of prep work to be done so the house can be painted and so that the back patio can be covered.

Talk about a cranio-muscular disassociation! My body threatened me with extinction if I crawled out of the nap sack. It told me that it was going to feed me to the alligators and take an hour to draw a crowd first. Of course, I knew it was lying since we don’t have any alligators here in this area at all. I may have believed it if it tried to scare me with being fed to the California pocket gophers or such. Those things are mean! There was a huge battle between my brain and my body but, finally, the brain won out. I’m still not sure how that happened. Because we weren’t going fishing, I was rootin’ for my body to win.

The painter will be here at the first part of next week to pressure wash the place then he’ll throw some paint at it. As part of the prep, Connie and I had to park some stuff in the barn that we had stored on the west side of the house in the shade and in reach of the lizards.

Then, we had to make a “dump run” which we do about every 6 weeks or so that our nice neighbors don’t think we are garbage collectors. The great news is that the dump is only about 1.5 miles up the hill from us. By the time we loaded the pickup and tied it down, folks were sure that they were staring at some of the Beverly Hillbillies clan.

Then, we had to move other stuff (some of if junque) to either in the barn or into the dumpsters. After some heavy breathing and sweating (I’m confident that there are better places to do both), we were able to see the entire 15.7’ X 38.6’ patio for the first time in who knows how long.

When finished, the covered-but-open patio will sport three ceiling fans and a new BBQ grill. The new grill has been stored for about three months in the 8’ X 12’ trailer out front. Every time I get in my van, I can hear the thing clawing at the door trying to get out. We have some dead steer meat and some live friends so we’re going to try to get them all together before too awfully long and break this big four-burner in. We are entertaining options of enclosing the patio at a later date due to all of the "global warming" making things so much colder here.

The tradesmen showed up at about 6AM armed with nail guns and saws and knowing how to use them. It was “Katy, nail the door” after that. All day we heard sawing, hammering, whacking, sneezing, and other loud noises. They banged so hard against my office wall that the power supply to my Ethernet hub was dislodged from the socket! It knocked me off the Net until I figured out what had happened. I sure hope there’s no extra charge for that!  

Here at the ranch there’s another fact happening: we are under siege from gophers and ground squirrels. So, Ol’ Farmer Ran (“Farm, farm, farm. Farm, farmer Ran”…nice song by the Beach Boys. Maybe you’ve heard it) has his hands full with trying to suppress the opposition. To deal with the matter, we have the “OFR Varmint Eradication Task Force” consisting of a squadron of one guy, a hose, and a rifle.  

Now, before you laugh your Huggies off, consider that Ol’ Ran is quite experienced with both hoses and rifles. And, experience makes all the difference. From an early age he grew up with both guns and hoses in his hands. In fact, later, as an experienced musician having a guitar in his hands, he experimented with naming his rock band “Guns and Hoses”. But, alas, it wasn’t all that popular so he returned to his roots in Country Music. Another band capitalized on the idea and became famous. Such a deal.

In any case, not everyone is up to the task of taking on a savage, grub-noshing, razor-toothed, California Pocket Gopher. In fact, one of the furry buggers chased Connie around the patio just this very morning! Gopher 1, Connie 0! She wasn’t a happy camper for losing that race. Nor is just anyone capable of taking on a sneaky, camouflaged, and fleet of foot, hole digging, fruit snatching, ground squirrel. Nosiree. But, OFR is up to the thankless and time consuming chore.

So far, the tally is 3 demented ground squirrels (they were crazy enough to show up at my ranch) taken with a scoped .22 rifle at 100’ and 5 pocket gophers flushed from the ground with a water hose and dispatched forthwith. Of course, there will be no discussion of the bucket of bullets fired without hitting anything other than Bermuda grass and dirt clods. The 6lb trigger pull on the Ruger will be remedied shortly.

Speaking of instruments of death, there is now a new one added to the full inventory of one rifle. Because the critters have ramped up their assault on the ranch, OFR just purchased a nice Mossberg 17 HMR rifle. This little baby is a big time “boomer” that fires either a 17 grain or a 20 grain slug at the spirited pace of about 2350 fps. This makes the humble-but-beloved .22 long rifle bullet seem to be bolted to the gun. It only travels o’er the sod at about 1250 fps. The Mossy will reach out and slap someone and be back home in a heart beat and waiting for the .22 to make up its mind what to do.

An unexpected fact is that we just bought a …hold on to your Studebaker, granny…BANJO! A friend of mine called me the other day and advised that a friend of his had a banjo for sale. Seems the banjo was all but new and in pristine condition and that the previous owner needed a few extra bucks. The Epiphone banjo (about a 200 dollar item) was flung my way for a mere 40 dollars! There was no way that I wasn’t going to buy the thing. I’ve already ordered the thumb and finger picks. I should be able to drive the neighbors and their dog crazy any time now.

Just about everyone knows that, when someone is learning to play a banjo, there is no such thing as “just a banjo” without a string of adjectives preceding it. You know what I mean: “Dash blast the gosh darn blankety heck! Stop playing that &^%$##@ banjo before both of you end up at the bottom of the lake!”. The poor beginner picker is in deep Dutch until he is at least capable of playing the theme song from “Deliverance”.  It’s much worse than my leaning to play the fiddle. With the fiddle, all I do is keep the cats away.

One more fact…the saga, drama, excitement, building, and blessings will continue next time. Don’t fiddle with that digital frequency manipulator.