Rancho Próspero Año Nuevo

Here's the Howden bunch up from Harbor City! From left: Thatcher, Warner, Liesl (think "Sound of Music"), Kuyper, Moyra, and Cosette. They all came up from Christmas and did we have a grand time!! In the background, you can see the electric train exhibit at the "Porterville Museum" at D and Putnam streets. Grandkids are our friends! 

 To the right is Kuyper who seems to be another chicken-loving bird brain. That means he fits right in with the rest of the rancho wranglers.  

Cosette loves our birdies! I think she could be a chicken sitter in no time flat! 

  

This is Moyra's first real attempt at "chickening". She didn't do too badly at all for a four year old, all things tallied. She gave it her best shot and did great.  Kuyper is the helper on this one. They have the sun directly in their eyes so are squinting a bit.

Liesl is an old hand here at the ranch. She's 13 so has been here a few more times than the others and isn't afraid of a sometimes squiggly chicken.

Warner, on the other hand, is  also experiencing his first "chickening" event. He took to it like a frog in a mud hole! It won't take him long to be a true feather lover. 

Thatcher is missing from the pics but that's because he had other things to take care of. He, too, has been here a few times and has become quite acquainted with our birds and is an old pro at it. 

It’s January, 2018! Doesn’t that just make you want to pluck your magic twanger, Froggy (all you Andy Devine fans out there – “Andy’s Gang” 1955)?! Man!! Stacking these birthday bricks on my back makes for a heavy load! Yes…I’ll quit my bellyaching.

Rancho Report: 2017 was a very…interesting year. No major happenings that required a 911 call or that cost us an arm, a leg, and the deed to the ranch. Sure: we had our ups and downs, of course. Some were not all that high and some were not all that low. There were a few things that required our full attention but nothing really serious (if the croaking of a few chickens isn’t considered “serious”). I guess you could say we were down right blessed! In any case, we’re still cranking along in high gear and getting stuff done. Works for me!

The trusty GE microwave gave up the magnetron ghost the other day. But, that’s no biggy. It had served faithfully for about 15 years or so. GE’s m/w’s are made by “Samsung” as I recall. As a former appliance salesman, I was impressed enough to buy another GE unit. It’ll be here in a few days. It is a brand new unit and there was no tax, there was free shipping, and it sold for ten dollars less than any place around. You just gotta love yard sale'ers, eh? 

Oh, yes; since we’re talking about dead things (a few chickens), there were a couple of dead batteries that had to be replaced. One was for Tojo, the pickup and one was for the “Ranch Rino”, our trusty (and somewhat rusty) circa 1952 Ford 8N tractor.  No fire, no tire movement. Batteries are our friends. 

That meant that I was finally able to mix up my compost pile. It gets stirred every couple of months or so. Come springtime, the plan is to haul a bunch of it up close to the garden boxes and refill/replenish them. It is likely that we will plant a few things this year but as to just what, I'm not sure yet. We're well stocked on a few things but can always use zukes and maters. We'll see.  

Probably the most interesting thing that happened was when I wasn’t paying attention. During summertime, I usually keep my Ruger “Critter Git’R” nearby. So it was on one particular sunny afternoon at the ranch. The protocol is to leave the rifle on the patio table and just grab it once in a while to survey the “back 40” (a total of 2 acres) for varmints. While sighting through the scope, Ol’ Ranger Ran was fairly certain that he saw a mangy varmint out by the pole barn. However, the grass was a bit higher than usual so he had to use a bit of “funky windage” to extrapolate. Short story longer…..there wasn’t a preening fuzzer there. After firing the rifle, nothing happened.

However, some days later, it was discovered that there was a trailer tire hiding in the grass instead. It was sporting a flat spot on the bottom, was without air, and had a bullet lodged in it (too traumatic to repair with a plug). A low painful growling moan could be heard crawling from the gun slinger’s throat as his eyes rolled slowly back inside the top of his skull. Thankfully, yours truly secured his tongue between his teeth prior to cussing himself out in three different languages and all further noises were supressed. Cost for not paying attention: 95 bucks and change and a lot of energy wasted dismounting and mounting the tire (it could have been used elsewhere). Note to self: don’t let this happen again.

Moving along, there was a hope that we could blow this pop stand and head ….anywhere….for a few days. But, that didn’t happen. I’m not talkin’ about a “day trip” or such. I’m talkin’ about a genuine jaunt where we can get a bit of salty breeze blowing through our ears and get a belly full of clam chowder. That’ll take at least three days as far as this ol’ chicken chaser is concerned. Otherwise, it’s too much of a rush and being in a rush is not on our agenda.

This is to say that I have to be mindful that we don’t abuse the old folks while trying to get some R & R. On one particular occasion, we headed to Morro Bay and took the whale watching tour for a few hours. When we returned to the parking lot and thawed out, we had to take a nap in the van just to survive. After the nap we headed back home too exhausted to even use the remainder of the day for “fun”. It was nap time when we hit the front door. We almost needed a tow truck to haul us to bed.

Anyway, though the fruition of that notion is in the future, it is supposed and hoped that it will be in the not-too-distant future. The rancher needs a day off. 

The most likely destination will be Monterey. I haven’t been to the aquarium there in 30 years. Connie’s daughter says that it is marvelous and I believe it. The previous time there was probably in 1987 and not all that long after it had opened. It was absolutely astounding then! Since Connie hasn’t been there yet, there’s no real reason why the Minnicks shouldn’t get the update on the place, eh?

It would be nice to fly over there. But, some time ago, a low-time pilot pranged the kite that we usually rented. That was the cute two-place Evektor “Sportstar”.  It was a real nice flying little plane and it will be missed...a lot....maybe two lots....or even three. 

And, about the same time, an idiot pilot, flying a rented C-150, didn’t bother to check his gas gauge and the engine stopped in flight (no kidding?!). He made an off-airport emergency landing but walked away from a bent bird. The FBO stopped renting both of their aircraft. That meant that the really super C-172 that we usually rent was no longer available. I say “super”  because it had been upgraded from 150 hp to 180 hp and had a constant speed prop. I loved that plane because she really liked to fly! Most 172’s are mush-mobiles that barely want to leave the ground if there’s anyone on board. Anyway…..we’re …grounded…..stuck on the ground….ground sick....no wings… slow boat…..ugh. We much preferred the chariots of the gods. 

It probably should be mentioned that we’re not baling quite as much hay per day as we did a few years ago. Seems some of our “get up and go” done got up and went. Lots of things that were on the agenda just weren’t accomplished. Some of it required the strength of Hercules and all I had on hand was the strength of Pee Wee Herman. *SIGH*. My friends, Mr. Starbucks, and Mr. McCafe, do encourage me to think that there may be hope, though.

Though certainly not earth shattering, not long ago, Ol' Ran did encounter a bit of the retarding of his performance level (it doesn't take all that much). He managed to slice an index finger on his left hand (prompting him to self-limit his access to sharp things) and then had another injury issue with the index finger on his right hand. Needless to say, both injuries were acquired without the assistance of anyone. Both wrecks required the bandaging of the index fingers. 

OK....so you have a visual on that. But, did you manage to consider just how inconvenient it is not having access to both of your index fingers? EH?!  Think about it. Do you really want to wrap your clean bandage around a greasy piece of fried chicken or a dripping taco?! A guy could starve to death that way! And, precisely how can you continue with your daily nasal maintenance with a wad of bandage on your finger that is bigger than your nares? No, sireeee! Besides that, you could get something stuck on your bandage that could later slide off on your tuna sandwich! That won't work! 

So, you can see that being thusly and seriously inhibited compromised my nose-mining abilities. However, being a man of "options", there were other digits upon which I could depend. But, just ponder this; when was the last time you saw someone hauling out toddler raisins using his....pinky fingers?! EH x 2?! Thankfully, the wounds healed quickly and I was able to breathe freely after the dirt clods were gone. 

Christmas at the ranch! The Howden grandkiddies were transported by Mom Trixie so we could celebrate Christmas! We had a grand time of it! Because of time constraints and the 200 mile distance hurdles, they don't get to visit all that frequently. So, each time is a joyous occasion.

It's a bit of a culture shock to come from a "real" city to a rural area like Sprangville (sic) which may not be a real city any time soon (given that nearby Hooterville has 60K + folks living in it and it's not a real one yet either). Unlike Harbor City, you can actually throw a rock here and not hit anything! Anyway, the kids took to the rural rancho like gravy on a biscuit and they all had a good time. 

Speaking of biscuits and gravy, we managed to pull off a huge country pancake and bacon breakfast their morning day here. Everyone had a full tummy after the feast that included O.J. (uh.....not Orenthal James), milk, and coffee for the farmer dude! The good news is that Ol' Potlick Pete got to play "cleanup crew" and make sure that no flapjacks escape unnoticed (he's a real pro, don'tcha know. Heheh). The chickens got the tailings and loved us for it. 

In fact, they loved us so much that, when the kids went out back to feed them, they were almost bowled over by the biddy brigade who mobbed them in anticipation of getting more goodies (they seem to not be satisfied with a mere ton of chow per day.....each). The big fat greedy gobblers surrounded them and prevented the smaller kids from even moving! It was a hoot! They tossed their offerings to the birds which, to the kids' relief, followed the chow away from them.

As the pictures indicate, they all had their turns holding some of the hens. In fact, some of the kids delighted in catching some of them! Even Warner, at  almost 3 years of age, fancied himself as a cluckaroo! He grabbed a nearby plastic milk case and began tossing it as a trap. You wouldn't think that he could pull that off but.....lo and behold!....he caught a hen! That boosted him and older sister, Moyra, age 4, into "trapping mode". She started tracking down a suitable set of feathers and got ready to give her trap a sling. But, the Ol' Rancher stepped in and suggested that we not do that for now. It's not that I mind them being them being trapped. It's that they won't be trapped and, instead, be clobbered by a wildly-slung milk case. As it turned out, there were enough of the birds who, with the help of an older sibling, were tame enough to simply be picked up. Close enough.

Included in the activities was showing Cosette how to make espresso coffee. She took right to it and did a great job. Connie showed her how to help with breakfast and to make peanut butter French toast. She has all the makings of a really fine country girl. 

After things settled down, the youngin's were all gathered around the Christmas tree where the goodies were then divvied up. It was quite a haul for all! There was wrapping paper all over the place, of course, and kids playing with new things. After a few batteries were installed, there was even a small drone aircraft making the rounds! 

Ol' Ran got a couple of nice gift cards, too! One was for "Starbucks" and another was for "Amazon". Both are my friends! 

After all the food and fun and lots of chickenin', it was time for them to depart. Following another huge breakfast and some more fellowship, the Howden clan departed under sunny skies and with warmed tummies. We can hardly wait to see them again!

Princess Dawg Report: after appearing to have left her desire for obedience in the birth canal, our pooch at least had the decency to bring along a few instincts that seem to be serving us fairly well. The other day, she commenced barking at Tojo. Experience has shown that there was a significant possibility that a critter of some kind was lurking in, under, on, or about the little pick-me-up truck. 

It just happened to be early morning while Abbie still had her shock collar on (before the chickens were turned out for the day) and had quite a bit of freedom to move about. So, my first thought was to lift the hood to see if there was, again, something hiding there.

 I threw open the hood and saw a blur of fur shoot out! The fuzzer made it about 10’ then was nabbed by the vice grip jaws of my (sorta) useful huntin’ dawg. Quicker than you can break me off a piece of that “Kit Kat” bar,

that, as they say, was that. Abbie – 1; Fuzzer – 0. Go, Abbie!! 

Chickenin' report: well, our girls have had a revelation that they are not roosters and have begun laying again. They must only have a partial revvy though since the production count is still down quite a bit for as many layers as we have. No, complaints, though. We have a couple of new clients that dig our eggs (they even eat them too! Amazing!). 

Our baby birds have been turned loose from the cage within the coop. Only one was released and it seemed to do well. After a few days, the others were released. That went well until tonight when I went to check on them. All four were not in the coop that I could tell. It was night time and the lighting wasn't all that great so I'll figure it out tomorrow. They'll be back for chow, no doubt. They may be stupid but at least they'll be hungry. 

There you have it: another episode of what’s happening at Rancho Relaxo, home of Rancho Ran, the world's foremost authority (the previous one died), Connie the Canner (world's greatest side-cook), where things can get…interesting, and where… you just never know.