Rancho Mayo

 Here's some shots of the yard sale conducted during the "Springville Rodeo". It isn't at all close to the size of the one during the "Apple Festival" but we still had a good time. The temperature was perfect too!

"Get your stuff here"! Connie raised the limit on everything so people could buy as much as they wanted to. 

There is a missing pop-up in this picture. The wind removed the canopy on the one just to the right of the tan topped one. That happened the previous evening just after closing down. 

 Here's the new chicken run! She's all finished and is occupied by the Cluster Clucks. They are diggin' it! It's 20' x 10' and increases the total run length to about 37' with coop (at the back right in the picture) being another 10'. 47' should be enough for those yard birds.  

Construction was done by a  tradesman who is a neighbor that lives just down the street from us! Amazing! He's doing a lot of other tidying up around here since Rancho Ran can't seem to get it done. The place is looking great! Guess who will get to eat the marred fruit from the plum tree in the front of the run? More free chicken food!

This is the cantaloupe crop covering most of the compost pile. I haven't watered them yet but the irrigation water is now on so I can drag a hose over there to it. That needs to be done anyway since that's part of the composting process. 

For all you guitar players out there: if you've ever wondered where music stores get guitar picks, you now have an answer. They come from plastic laundry baskets that are sold at Wal-Mart. 

Well, boil them cabbage down and turn them hoe cakes 'round! It's May....again! The days seem to zip by like they're on fire at one end and are running for help! At least it has been a hospitable though brief April. There have been few if any complaints and we did need the nice April showers that bring May okra starts.

However, this new month appears to have taken offense at April's congeniality and has vowed to make  up for it. Just what we need, an evil month of May (I much prefer a merry merry month). High temps (the ones without rain) are supposed to arrive for a visit then make way for milder weather with a chance of "mad rain". Mad rain is that slight smattering of rain that leaves your car looking like it was doused with a pail of mud. You take one look and it makes you mad! Seriously; there isn't enough rain to even wash off the dirt! But, there's real rain ....somewhere.  

 Thankfully, these average temps will attempt to stabilize our sweat glands. If any sense of climate normalcy decides to take up camp, then we can expect to see the red stuff in the glass tube wait awhile before climbing to the 95 degree mark during the last week of May.

There is a modicum of comfort knowing that we have a river full of snow melt runoff only a half mile from here. If needs be, the old folks can head down and get cooled down without having to pay the utility company a hundred bucks to keep the summer sun from rendering us into a molten puddle of cellulite.

Back when we were neighbors to the Flintstones and Rubbles, we boys (though I seem to recall relatives referring to us as "hooligans") would head to the creek (aka Tule River) for relief on hot days. Despite the ambient temperature being north of 108 degrees, the water in the river was still....icy. It took an all out defiance of common sense and a blood-curdling Rebel yell to fling our young bodies into water that all but had ice cubes floating in it. After the initial shock that frosted our corneas and stopped our heart for 20 seconds, and after our blood begin to slowly circulate again, we feigned bravery but quickly found a hot rock on which to perch while we dried and waited for our blue flesh to thaw.

Of course, it didn't take long for the blisteringly hot rock to turn your drippings to steam. You then had no insulation against the lava that was swallowing your carcass starting with your cute cheeks and your bare feet first (real hooligans don't need no stinking towels). 

That precipitated another wild tossing of flailing body parts back into the river for survival's sake. It was only somewhat less of a shock the second dipping but after a few cycles of alternately canceling the forces trying to kill you, you adjusted and just went with the ....flow (I know. I know. I signed up with "Cornballs Unanimous" for help).

Connie the Canner is one busy lady! I'm not sure I've seen too many wives who work as hard as she does and who still remain human! She's already preparing for storing our garden harvest and it's just now starting to take off and grow! There are a couple of new dehydrators at hand that will surely help. There a lot of new canning jars, too! Those came from a...yard sale (natch!)!  

Then there's the freezing of things, storing of things, vacuum sealing things. If you think I'm kidding, she just stuffed and  sealed 200 pounds of rice into 5 gallon buckets! I usually pay attention when I'm around her while she's working so that one my shoes doesn't get parked in storage.

And, wait folks; there's more! The songs for church are prepared for and printed by this erg-oriented lady. Then, she calls our piano player with the song list and keys in which they are to be played. And, guess who's the director of the new chicken run project! It came out perfect so that'll give some idea of the talent that's on tap here at the ranch!

For our anniversary, she got a gorgeous blue and white all cotton lounging ensemble (sheeese...sound's like something from the "Price is Right"). That's the technical description. We just call'em "jammies".  She's one comfy gal, let me tell you! "Comfy Connie", I call her! You almost have to pry her out of those things. She was wanting me to make a new policy so she could wear them to church! Sounded like a great idea to me! But, I'm not sure just how far we can take "come as you are" at our fellowship. I'll think about it.....HEHEH.

So....let's talk turkey. Actually, let's talk chicken. Our feathery friends are doing quite well, thank you. There was a noticeable decrease in their egg production when Rancho Ran failed to maintain his astute injections (to prevent "moron-itis") and pulled the plug on the lights in the coop. It was staying daylight longer so I thought the artificial lighting could be eliminated without affecting the hens. They thought it was Alaska and that it was midnight and just stopped laying. *SIGH*. Well, my light came on so I plugged their lights back in and all is fairly well now that I had a long talk with them. They're not all that bright but they do seem to understand words like "chicken noodle soup" and such. We're pretty sure they'll shape up.

Talk about spoiled! They are proudly in charge of a new 20' chicken run extension. They can stay in shape by running laps, eh? That makes the total run length about 37' and another 10' for the coop. I need to be mindful, though, not to spoil them so much or they'll be demanding a swimming pool and sauna! Can you imagine what would happen if there was a chicken union?!

The hope is to add a dozen pullets soon so we can increase egg production. That will happen after the pullets increase in size a bit and can hold their own against the Sharp Feather Nincompooper Assassin Club. Seems big chickens harbor murderous thoughts against smaller chickens. So, if a pullet is put in with larger hens, the pullet is found the next day breastbone up with a beak hole in her back. The good news is that we have a couple of separate cages where we can keep them for awhile until they learn karate and can defend themselves.

Not sure why we like chickens so much. They're stupid, they're far from being fastidious, they're two-legged reverse-kneed head-bobbing vacuums that gobble down anything that'll fit in their not-yet-deep-fried gizzard. And, they're not warm and fuzzy so they're non-cuddly. Why anyone in their right mind would try to be a chicken whisperer is beyond me (ah, yeah; the "right mind" part).  I think they call folks that have an affinity for fowls "Bird Brains", but I have yet to confirm that. This deep mystery will be pondered while their mind-bogglingly delicious eggs are devoured for breakfast and for lunch (fried egg sandwiches! Oh, my!).

Perhaps it's the part about free fertilizer (free is my friend) that will either make your garden grow like you're Jerry Baker or burn it to the ground like the Waffen SS. Thus, the difference between green thumbs and brown thumbs, I suppose. In any case, it takes a special ....very special....really very very special... type who will horde chicken manure for those special gardening moments.

 Our quickie yard sale went well. It was a throw together gig without a lot of advertising. Some of our usual sellers won't be here in October during the "Apple Festival" so they asked if we could do it during the Springville Rodeo (like we used to do before we got....OLD and ran out of energy!). Springville is only a real town twice per year so we pay attention during those two times. So, we did that. It was worth it since we  got rid of more of our "stuff" to make room for more...stuff.

The Princess Abby report: well, she done did it. She had her pups and was a great pup keeper. I am mighty proud of our little pooch for diligently staying on the job and protecting them with all alacrity. Now, our post puppy princess pet is back to her normal behavior of maintaining her barking practice, hole digging (gophers, don'tcha know), and shredding unattended items that have the gall to be within her reach. She's one happy dandy diggy doggy and we aim to keep her that way. She hasn't lost any pep in her step and is the old bouncy coon chaser that we knew from the beginning.

She consistently wins the tug o' war battles that we wage. Seems she has more spizzerinctum than I do. Most of the time her opponent throws in the towel knowing that, if he doesn't, she'll still be tugging far after midnight. Other times, she'll change her grip and I get the rope and toss it afar. That doesn't last long since she's faster than a race horse and has the rope back to me before I can take the three steps to the back door. Her name needs to be "Quickie" instead of "Abby".

We put the pups on Craig's List on a Sunday afternoon after church. Later that day, someone called from Bakersfield (you know; it's that little known berg south of us where Buck and Merle used to hang out) asking about the pups. They came up that evening and fell in love with one of the little guys so it had a new home. The next day, a couple from Porterville (you know; that almost a real town just west of us where nobody in particular hangs out) came up, fell in love with a bundle of fur, and away they went. 

Amazingly, another call came from Buckersfield (sic) and they wanted two of our critters! When they got here, they brought along two more family members who must be "dog people" since they went gaga over all of them. So, they took all four of the remaining doggies! That was a hoot since two of the pups were both the largest and smallest of the litter. We called the largest one "Bubba" and the smallest one "Roentgen" but they have new names now, for sure. That left us as a "puppy free zone" ....for which we were most thankful. Methinks that we'll just be one kind of "sitters" at a time around here. We'll just make it chicken sitters for now.  

The list of "Things to do this spring" is a mile long. However, from all that we can tell, we've managed to accomplish about 1 inch of it so far. If it weren't for the fact that time flies so quickly around here, it could be a long year. Anyway, it's not for lack of trying. It's just that, for every inch we go forward, the list gets two inches longer! Sometimes we're in the mood to just fling open the doors and park "yard sale" signs everywhere. We could then blow everything out and just start all over from scratch. That thought didn't go very far when struck with the revelation that we would find our stuff at yard sales all over the region and just buy it back within no time. I might as well face it.... it would be better to be addicted to love than yard sales. *SIGH*

The garden boxes have been planted although not completely. And, it seems our adversaries, the slugs, are underfed and lacking nourishment. Some garden traitor has apprised the slimy gastropods of the location of our goodies and they brought their friends and neighbors along for a feast. My small okra plants look like the coconut palms on Peleliu after the First Marine Division routed the Japs. Tomorrow is a "city day" so we'll head to Lowe's and grab some slug bait.

Even the hardy cantaloupe plant's leaves are showing signs of a slug fest. They will likely grow so fast and large that they will notice little if any long term effects. That's nice since I was hoping to be a melon head later on this summer.

Also in the mix are different kinds of pepper plants and squash. This farcher (a farming rancher, eh?) isn't planting a garden that doesn't have zucchini and yellow crooked neck squash! Squash is my friend! So, there are plenty of them. Usually, one large plant is plenty to feed an entire community. Reckon I must have been hungry when I planted them because there are several of them ready to cover the entire box...and lawn....and ranch.

No garden would be complete without at least a few tomatoes so we have eight plants. That should keep us and a crowd in BLT's for awhile. Most likely, we'll dehydrate some and perhaps can a bunch. There could be some home made salsa too. And, there will be plenty of chopped tomatoes for TACOS. And, you know that TACOS are my friends!

The Ranch Rino (a Ford 8N tractor that may be as old as I am) started on the first attempt yesterday. She's a real strong work horse and a handy gadget to have around the ranch. It shouldn't be a surprise that I love that little pile of 30 horsepower. It isn't a real tractor like the ones I used to drive when younger but she does work for her oats.

Those big bruisers were the real deal. Some of the models have faded from memory but some of them remain glued to the old noggin. Some are: Moline G1000, John Deere 2010, John Deer 3020, John Deere 5010 (there are two models and I drove the four wheel self-loading scraper model), Ford 4000, Ford 8000, Farmall 706, Caterpillar DW-15 rubber tired tractor with scraper, LeTourneau "Super C Tournapull" rubber tired scraper,  International Harvester TD-9 crawler, Caterpillar D-4, D-6, D-8 (pulling a scraper, pulling a ripper, and as a "push Cat" with a dozer blade with a push block in the center), John Deere 860 and 860A self-loading scraper, Hancock 292 self-loading 10 yard scraper (yes... a smaller one), Westinghouse LeTourneau 222F and 222G, and an 18 yard Michigan self-loading scraper (probably a model 210). 

I miss the smell of diesel smoke and having a ton of muscle under my fanny. There's something about the big iron that gets into your blood and I don't know how to explain it. But, I don't miss the heat and dirt. A career in sales and other professions wasn't an accident. 

At some point, we'll need a tractor with a front loader so that I can more thoroughly work my compost pile. It keeps getting larger and larger so it needs to be regularly addressed. Hopefully, it will come with a nice disk so I can break up the fallow ground out back and disk in some of the cured compost. There are some ideas floating around as to what to plant...on my day off, of course. 

Not much happening in the "Shack". I'm nearing completion for the 20 minute installation for my digital PSK31 mode operation. It has only taken a few months to close in on those 20 minutes but, hey, progress is progress. All that remains to be done is to swap the controller chip in the "Signalink USB" integrated USB sound card to match my transceiver and I can get on the air. It only takes a few minutes but trying to track those minutes down has been a formidable task. The "Digipan" software is installed on the computer but the operator, moi, needs to review the tutorials on using it. So, soon (a really really subjective term), station "WA6IXI" will be ready to communicate in the modern world and be a real station! 

Other than that, the rig and antenna are operating nominally. I can tune all the way from the 10 meter band down to the 80 meter band with my 33' center-fed dipole. That's pretty good considering that the half wave length for a dipole antenna for 80 meters is 132'! That speaks highly of the MJF-949 antenna tuner that must tune out the capacitive antenna reactance for the missing 100'. It  does so by using a "T Matching" network that adds series inductance and capacitance.

That's the news from Rancho Relaxo. Don't touch that thingy with all the buttons on it that changes the channel; things could get.....interesting.