Easter at the Ranch

Easter is rapidly approaching and will be upon us before we even know what happened. So, “Farmer Ran” is getting his one duck in a row as quickly as he can.

The ground has been drying up after our rains so the contractor who is to build our barn called at 7:22 AM this (Tuesday) morning. That was just exactly as my left eye was breaking open to greet the day. That’s because Ol’ Ran had stayed up late the night before working on ‘puters on purpose. Normally, I would be up at about 6 AM or so.

After talking with the contractor in my best early morning gravelly voice, I knew that I had to move the four vehicles and a small trailer from the front driveway so he could do his thing improving the driveway. I was trying to wrap my head around the morning’s projects but it was like trying to play pool with a soggy noodle.

Things were going better after the morning latte’ made with my super-cool Breville stainless steel espresso maker…well…with the exception of the almost flat tire on the 1985 Toyota pickup. I just happened to have a nice red 33 gal. air compressor out back so I drove the lil’ picky-up truck around and stuffed some fresh air into the tire. Now things were moving along.

Well…with the exception of totally flat tire (ah, yes, the brand new one) on the small pull trailer. OK…time to re-group the one duck. I hooked the fully-loaded trailer to the pickup. At that time I was hearing my back cursing my brain and threatening it with unimaginable retribution. I had been called those things before but it had been awhile.  Then it was a really slow tow for about 100’ to the rear of the house where, it too, got aired up. Now, things were looking up.

Well…with the exception of the fact the Dodge handicap van’s battery was dead. I guess it serves me right not starting the thing once in awhile. It just so happens that Ol’ “Boy Scout”, Ran was prepared for such an event. I grabbed my fully-charged genuine Sears Craftsman Heavy Duty Jumpstart battery-to-go and hooked it to the van which then promptly started. Right on! Things were going great after a thorough morning workout.

Well…excepting the fact that the Mulberry tree had covered the driveway with a layer of muck after the recent rain. The fallen goop was all but Super Glued to the concrete. I grabbed the push broom and commenced to show the crap on the driveway just who was boss. Guess that makes me a “Crap Boss”. Sorta has a ring to it, eh? Another work out! Great! That was about as welcomed as a cactus in a nudist colony. At least things were moving along.

Well…except for the fact that the contractor had to remove another (smallish) almond tree. Last week, he had already dug up three of them and replanted them further back on the property. This forth one has a lot of nuts on it but we may not lose them if it pulls through the re-planting. I understood that, if an almond tree is deprived of water for any length of time, they can never again produce a full tree of nuts. I don’t mind having a fruitless Mulberry tree but I don’t think it’s such a good idea to have a fruitless almond tree. I dunno…maybe Monsanto will buy the thing. Finally, I was on top of everything.

Well…almost. The contractor advised that the pretty pea gravel that we had on the driveway was no longer available. Seems the rock quarry in the little town of Ducor (about 22 miles from here) that has existed since the Jurassic Age had gone out of business. Swell. That left me making a decision to go with ¾” rock. Decomposed granite almost made the cut but you have to baby sit the stuff and hose it down so that it will properly compact and keep the dust down. I don’t do windows, I don’t do dust, and I don’t baby sit driveways.

Rancho Relaxo is now the proud owner of a 1950 Ford 8N tractor. We need the little mule to be able to do the ground work that’s necessary around here. The motor has been overhauled and, though it’s a bit rough around the edges, it runs flawlessly. As soon as we can, we want to find a 6’ box drag scraper and a small disc. A front loader would be great too! The little cutie does need a battery and the fluids changed but that’s no biggy. I used to drive a little 8N when I was a teenager working for a citrus rancher in Strathmore.

On Wednesday (tomorrow), we’ll be headed to Harbor City/Torrance to catch the Easter pageant at Connie’s daughter’s home church. They have a spectacular on-stage production where members of the congregation play characters in the Bible. However, they represent paintings of characters in the Bible! Last years event was quite memorable and there’s no doubt that this one will be as well received.

That also means that I get to knock over the “Trader Joe’s” that isn’t far from Trixie’s house. From time to time we get to go to the one in Bakersfield. But, the one in Torrance is actually more convenient because we actually go to Torrance on purpose more than we go to Bakersfield on purpose.

The other day, Ol’ Ran was “ground sick”…sick of being on the ground. So, Connie and I grabbed a Cessna 172 and blew some holes in the sky. It was greatly needed by both of us. Connie had accompanied me on the bi-annual flight review but this was the first time that just the two of us had flown together. The thought was to boogey over to Woodlake, CA (O42) to sample the cuisine at the “Runway Café” there. I used to fly over there once in awhile when it was still the old "Outpost" restaurant. Their biscuits and gravy did the trick for me. They repaved the narrow crumbling runway but it's still only 2,200 feet long. You can’t go to sleep when landing there.

Lo and behold, when we got there, the joint was closed! I hadn’t been there in quite awhile and had forgotten that they are a breakfast and lunch place and that they closed at about 2 PM. We got there at 3:30 PM. C’est la vie, they say in Paris. I'll be back (as Arnold Schwarztenegger says).

I must say that it felt great to make a few laps around the pea patch (5 in all). But, I must also confess that I hadn’t flown in awhile and I was…how you say…RUSTY. UGH. Though rusty flying is a real workout, by the time I parked the plane, I was tired but happy. It was a real attitude adjustment, to be sure.

The first landing was a “squeeker”. However, the gusting spring wind was not about to let me gloat over such a feat. The next landings were entirely acceptable but I had to do a bit of waltzing on the rudder pedals and had to keep a wing low to accommodate the feisty cross wind.

Anyway...next month I'm flying us over to Pismo for a whale watching gig. The airport is actually south of there in Oceano (check out their webcam: http://www.oceanoairport.com/aircam2.htm). We'll spend the night most likely then boogie back to Hooterville later in the morning when the fog lifts. Oceano was the very first cross-country destination that dear friend, Jerry Lewis, Vicki Carter (my fiance' at the time), and I took not long after the ink had dried on my pilot's license June 30^th, 1968. It was in mid-August if I recall. I’ve flown in and been back a few times in the previous 15 years. They have a campground for pilots and will loan you a bike! My previous wife and I camped out there many years ago.

When we returned from Oceano in '68, we forgot our collection of shells and starfish in the rear floorboard of the Cherokee. It was 105 degrees outside and about 140 degrees inside the enclosed airplane!! Wheeeeeeew! I talked to Eddie Wood the owner about that when I moved back here in '96. He said the airplane still stank of rotten fish when he sold the plane a few years later!!  I have no doubt at all.

This Sunday is Easter. We pray that all have a blessed weekend as we celebrate the resurrection of our Lord. While the kiddies are hiding eggs with each eating 3 pounds of candy, the old folks here at the ranch will be taking a nap. Naps are our friends.

Stay tuned for the adventures of the “Grand Exhausted ‘Puter Poobah” and his side cook, Connie.

Rancho Relaxo aka Jerkyville

Ah, yes. Spring has sprung and things at the ranch are awakening to a green lawn, blooming flowers, wonderfully cool temperatures, and ...moles.

The mole in our front yard has begun to mock me by dotting the freshly-mowed lawn with his earthen redoubts of defiance. No sooner do I evict the pesky mammal than his neighbor moves in. It's a never ending battle.

There are several approaches to ridding one’s lawn of these varmints but none appear to be very effectual. I was thinking about ramping up the battle to the next level by using a backhoe or perhaps filling a 2 liter jug with black powder and a fuse. Naw…maybe not. The folks next door probably wouldn’t appreciate having to clean large chunks of my lawn from their roof.

The rain has kept the ground soft in our back yard so the building of our barn is being delayed. It’ll be a super nice 40’ x 20’ sanctuary for our beans and rice and the field mice. Oh, well.

 I got around to soaking and purging the residential water filter and it only needs to be plumbed in. The contractor for the barn knows a guy that can install it for us.

Speaking of water…our well stopped dead in its tracks the other day. It's discomforting to turn the tap handle and be greeted with silence. The inferences are stark. We have three bathrooms to last the day so we had to do some "figurin'". I figured that, at some point, I'd need to head to the "Indian Station" 2.6 miles down the road. That turned out to not be the case because we had options (stored water bottles).

That was on a Sunday afternoon. We called the pump service guy, Tim Witzel, who was a few years behind me in school. His sister, Kathy was in the same class as me and his elder brothers, Ronnie and Darrel, were just ahead of me in school. Darrel is a fellow pilot and a good friend of mine.

Anyway, Tim hustled out on Monday and found that the contacts had been compromised by earwigs. How interesting. We had to be out of town Monday and Tuesday. So, when we returned, we had water. It was a minor inconvenience to have to drink bottled water and miss one shower.

The first thought was to just shove the valve on our newly installed system and tap into our river/ditch water. But, wouldn’t you know, the ditch water was stopped for the annual cleaning! That’s why we had 15 2L bottles of water stored in the garage and elsewhere! They surely came in handy that day!

It is difficult to express the pleasure that is being derived from the new Breville espresso maker. It makes the perfect latte’ and cappuccino. I can’t speak for anyone else over 60 but, it takes a couple of latte’s so Ol’ Ran can move faster than a sleeping bullet. Besides, it’s cheaper than calling AAA for a jumpstart every morning and much less painful than a precordial thump.

I picked up my new Mossberg 20GA pump shotgun from Big 5 the other day. The quail are in big trouble if I have a hankering for wild game birds. She’s a real beauty. It’s the only multiple shot shotgun that I have at this point in time. I have a single shot .410, 20GA, and 12G. I’ve only shot the .410 so far. I’m not at all a sportsman. The only desire is to harvest game for the table. The shotguns are a bit loud (if not somewhat expensive) to just blast away for grins and purposeful degradation of one’s hearing.

We have Canadian geese that regularly fly over the property. Sometimes they are low enough to throw rocks at. At some point, I can see harvesting a few big birds for the curing of hunger. The back yard sees a regular presence of quail, too. I was able to take one with a .22 pellet rifle from 60’. They call that “plumb lucky” where I come from especially considering that it was a “head shot”. “Ran, the sniper”, they call me. We haven’t seen any ring-neck pheasants on the property but have seen a couple of them along Globe Road.

If you consider that we have the Tule River about a half mile away and that Success Lake is only 4 miles down the hill, you can see that there are options for a continued supply of protein should the need arise.

We do have a current fishing license but have yet to take the poles for a stroll. The state gets a whopping 42 clams (heheh…I crack myself up) each for the license. If that isn’t highway robbery, I don’t know what is.

I’ve been trying my hand at making beef jerky. That means that our two main dehydrators (of the 4 that we have) have been getting a work out. It appears that I will never again have to purchase jerky at retail prices that push 35 dollars per pound. This stuff is outstanding! I was surprised how easy it is to get great results! Using different spices makes for some really good snacking! “Ol’ Jerky Ran” they call me (at least that’s what I thought they called me).

A cool and unanticipated aspect of making jerky is that the new Mexican super market, Villarta, in Hooterville sells the ultra-lean beef that I use for making jerky. But, they slice it Mexican style which is rather thin. It’s exactly the right size for jerky! It saves me a step in the process! We do have a small meat slicer but this is so much easier that it doesn’t see much usage.

My interest in Ham radio is returning somewhat. I just purchased a nice Kenwood R-600 shortwave radio so I can listen to the Ham bands and brush up on my Morse code. Also, a friend of mine sold me his Yaesu FT2400 VHF/2 Meter mobile unit for a more than fair price. I have a Yaesu FT-530 VHF/UHF dual band hand held as well. It was a gift from dear friend, Jeff Edgecomb (KB7PMO) in Longview, WA.

The next step is to build an antenna then get an HF transceiver. We’ll see. Not much time to work with as of late (not that I mind). I love to build wire antennas like the inverted “V”, regular dipole, or “sloper” but, due to constraints on my playtime, I may just purchase a multi-band vertical and mount it on the roof.

I sold my Kenwood TS440S HF rig 7 years ago. It was sitting around begging me to dust it so it could see daylight. It persisted so my lightening-fast mind said, “If you ain’t gonna use it, sell it on Ebay, dummy”. So, off to Ebay it went where it sold right away. It now has a nice dustless home and a caring operator.

The new Crate GLX212 guitar amp is getting used frequently. I keep the Fender Teleblaster hooked to it all the time. I sometimes switch to the Strat or the Les Paul but the Tele is the preferred ax. There was an amp-shaped hole in my heart into which the big Crate fits perfectly.

The other day, Connie was medicating a sore spot on the inside of my right ear. It was where my Bluetooth device had somewhat degraded my epithelium. She grabbed a cotton ball, smeared some kind of antibiotic goop on it and shoved it my ear. Never one to allow an opportunity to josh someone pass by, I said, “’Ol’ cotton sticker, Connie,’ they call her. Yep...'Cotton sticker'. Sort of has a ring to it, don'tcha think?”.  Boy! She looked me right straight into my pretty brown eyes and said, “Reckon just where would you like for me to stick the next batch of cotton?” Kind of hard to pull one over on her!

That’s most of the news from “Rancho Relaxo”. Stayed tuned because “things” are happening around here.