This is our broody barred rock hen whose new name is "Broody Bird". She's been nesting for three weeks. Her former name was "Dirty bird". We should start hearing tiny "cheeps" any day now. A second barred rock just started her brooding; her name is "Eggy Sue".
This is the sneaky snake that thought that he could sneak
past my coon dog's nose. Didn't happen! This is one of three rattlesnakes that
were killed within two weeks. The first two lost their heads to a shovel and the
third one with a .22 pistol. I had just been rustling a large tarp and pulling
it out of the way for the chickens so they could get some bugs (free extra
protein). A few minutes later, Abbie was going crazy at the same place but was
standing back. Since she isn't afraid of anything, that got my attention. Sure,
enough, it was rattler in the same spot. That could have been interesting. Connie started cautioning me that I needed to
don my boots when outside. She was advised that I was wearing special
"Crocks" and that they would protect me. She just looked at me and
said, "What a crock!"
It must be time for another "deal of the day" because a great deal just popped up. This big baby was discovered at a yard sale and in need of a loving new owner that would appreciate and care for it. The ol' coffee sucking rancho dude perfectly fit the bill. The previous Keurig died in its sleep a few months ago and, with a ton of K-cups on hand, was truly missed. A Keurig in need of an owner connected with an owner in need of a Keurig coffee maker; problem solved. It’s June!! This year is almost half over! Doesn’t that just make you want to do the Curley Shuffle?! It’s like you can almost watch the leave falling off the calendar! We’re getting ready for spring cleaning and it’s summer already! UGH! Moving along….
Rancho Report: lots of things happening at the rancho
despite rumors of lockdowns and such. We really haven’t been inconvenienced all
that much but we really did see too much of Taco Bell take outs. I suppose that
one shouldn’t complain when you can sate the hunger of a couple of old folks
for less than 6 bucks.
This mask thing has been going on for so long that I don’t think
that everyone will take them off after the lockdowns. It’s turning into a
fashion mode and people are making money off the deal. The next thing you know,
someone will be taking selfies and having them cropped then printed onto their
masks so that people will know who they are. That or there will be a glitterati
fad where everyone is trying to pimp their mask better than the next person. They’ll
be putting pins, buttons, bangles, beads, and mustaches on their masks to look
cool. Everyone will be known by there personalized mask and, if you lose your
mask, no one will know who you are! *SIGH*
A Better Butter: the other day (when lots of things happen
around here), it became apparent that we had too much butter in the freezer. It
had been on sale for 1.99 per pound so Connie the Shopper stocked up on it and there
was no room for other good deals.
So, she started surfing the Internet for ideas on how to
store butter. It wasn’t long until she found that she could can butter (seriously).
It only took a couple of seconds to realize that it was a slight twist of the method/recipe
for making “ghee” (the Indian prepared butter) which stores for long periods without
refrigeration.
All you have to do is simmer the butter so that the milk
solids settle out from the fat/liquid. That’s what ghee is. However, with ghee,
the milk solids are removed altogether and used separately. With this recipe, the
milk solids remain in the canning jar (because we’re not trying to make ghee).
When you’re finished with the canning process and the jars cool a bit, you agitate
the jar and remix them with the liquid so that you have canned butter.
We tried the canned butter (a jar didn’t seal) and found it
to be just like the regular butter in every way. In fact, an entire skillet of
fried biscuit bread was destroyed using canned butter (see this part elsewhere
in this episode). Lots of room in the freezer now.
The long and the short(s) of it: from time to time,
we end up going to Visalia (a real town) for business or whatever particular
shopping that needs to be done. So, it was not long ago (but longer than the
other day) that we wended our way over there and ended up spending most of the day gracing
their town (it’s called “spending our money in their stores”). Thankfully, it
happened to be a weekend so there were yard sales to be found (and, we certainly
did find some).
At one particular place, Connie the shopper found a new pair
of summer shorts for the ol’ rancher for (get this) 2 dollars! And, they were
exactly his size! Zowie! They were plaid which is probably why they were for
sale (didn't plaid shorts go out of style in '83?). But, it’s also what old people don’t mind wearing (and certainly not this
old guy). Besides, Connie says they look spiffy! Works for me!
Plum wacky: we usually have our first plum harvest at the end of May and running into the first week of June but a recent rain knocked off almost all of the blossoms. Instead of having a tree laden with fruit, we have a few still-ripening plums. It seems strange because the tree is usually laden with beautiful, huge, ripe, juicy, plums.
The three other plum trees were also affected but not as much. Still, they took a hard hit. A small harvest is better than no harvest.
Hot doggies! My, but they’re good!: the last Sunday of each month, we enjoy our church pot luck. To celebrate the new season of crushing, cursed, soul-searing heat (I know. We humans are a seriously affected lot), Connie the side-cook decided to have a wiener roast (bless her heart). That entailed heading to the hangar (where lots of things are stored) and snatching our electric BBQ grill (you don’t have a George Forman electric BBQ grill?!) so that we wouldn’t be dealing with charcoal, smoke, and ashes (at least we got that part right).That also meant that we could actually use the grill indoors! That surely worked for this ol’ hot dog killer.
Sure enough, the ladies pulled this feast off with aplomb. We had all of the standard picnic trimmings (who doesn’t love potato salad?!) and plenty of refreshments with which to wash them down. Dessert included cake and home-made ice cream so the event was a huge success.
Call me "Text Ritter" or How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love
the iPhone: it had to happen sooner or later than the ol’ Luddite rancher
had to be inculcated into to the 21st century: well, not fully
inculcated but at least “has his feet wet” sort of inculcated into the 21st
century (this will take awhile since you know who isn't any kind of a hurry).
Getting used to having an iPhone is much more comfortable
now the I've poked, pocketed, programmed and otherwise abused this little magic box for about a year or so. Even after losing it a dozen times, losing some of the icons, and having it fall out of my pants fifty times (I kid thee negative), it has to be admitted that it is a handy gadget to have around. You have
instant access to just about all of the information known to man. You even have
the newly-discovered privilege of “butt dialing” a friend. If you’re really lucky,
your friend was in bed or totally unprepared to receive a video call
from you. However, you can expect to receive a reciprocal (pay back) call, of course.
Everyone gets a laugh when you have one of these things (and who it is that's hiding behind their makeup, eh?).
Hey! You can even fly your own drone if you have one of
these hi-tech tools! You can download apps that can tell you the price of stuff
in Wal-Mart, too! How cool is that?! It beats chasing down a “blue vest”, eh?
So, look for the old guy checking the latest local news or perhaps
“brain coasting” and playing a game of “Free Cell” once in a while. Life is
good in the 21st century.
Something fishy happen around here or Stick it to me,
baby!: in the previous 40 years, fish sticks have not been on the menu at my
house. That’s a phenomenon that can’t be explained since, during the ‘50’s and ‘60’s,
it was almost against the law to not regularly eat fish sticks (and peanut
butter and jelly and Jello).
But, a couple of years ago, fish sticks showed up on the
dinner table: they stunk! A few of them were eaten for old time’s sake but not for
any other reason. Talk about the classic “yukky”! Most of them ended up in
front of our feathery food disposal crew. So, it appeared that such a menu icon
would not show up again for the next 40 years. However, you just never know
when things can change around this place.
The other day, we ran into Mac and Luvena McElreath, our
Christian friends from Californian Hot Springs. They were in Hooterville doing their
regular shopping and such. Fortunately, they were at “Grocery Outlet” which,
along with “Aldi’s”, is a hangout for the Rancho Twins (we always remind them
that we must keep meeting them like this).
She suggested the fish sticks that were on sale for fifty-seven cents! OK, so for fifty-seven cents (and the fact that they were a completely different brand than the mislabeled chicken feed that I had last time), it was time for Frugal McDougal to take a chance that “real” fish sticks may actually exist (i.e. the ones without ground up cardboard as an ingredient) .
Connie the Cooker prepared a nice meal (with the classic
trimmings of slaw and such) within a day or so. But, there was still a bit of hesitancy
due to the lingering thought of the previous ugly experience. Imagine the surprise
when these crunchy little former finned swimmers tasted great!
Now, this ol’ fisherman doesn’t get all excited very easily
but it was difficult not to sing the praises of fish these sticks (at least this
brand). They were “Captain Findus Wild Alaska Pollock Fish Sticks” (who woulda
thunk?!). They retail for 4.99 so it was difficult not to rejoice all the more when
we paid fifty-seven cents! I’m a big fan of this new fish monger! We returned the
next day and bought all that they had left!
The only caveat is that you never want to microwave these things unless you are sure that that the nukes are going to hit your town within 10 minutes and it's your last meal on earth. Otherwise, do no skimp on time; use the oven.
“Clean up on aisle 2” or Connie don’t allow no
mouse in the house: there are a few things that longsuffering Connie the
Canner allows in the house but mammals are not on the list (other than the
itchy-back gorilla she’s married to). That’s a completely understandable
attitude given that some of them (but particularly the rodents) are just not
suitable as pets. Also, some of them gnaw into everything you have stored and
that quickly turns into a serious issue because it entails a lot of cleanup
work and the cost of replacement (ask us how we know).
Connie the Canner is also Connie the Thinker so she finds a
solution to most of the issues that crop up around here from time to time. For
this rodent problem, she simply floods the garage with rat poison which leads
to an ineluctable fate for all rodents who enter therein.
That being said, it’s not at all surprising to her personal “janitor”
when he hears, “Clean up on aisle 2!” coming from the com radios we carry. The plea
always elicits the same immediate response, “On my way, babe!".
Sure enough, another small gray varmint had tried to profit
from his newly found goodies and had fallen victim to his innate sense of survival.
He was removed and disposed of post haste: aisle cleanup complete.
K-Cupping: sometime ago (but longer than “not long
ago”), the big beautiful rancho “Keurig” K-Cupper went down and refused to
brew. It couldn’t be resuscitated using the usual troubleshooting so it was tossed.
It had been so muchly appreciated that it almost got a decent burial.
That big baby surely was missed but Ol’ Java Joe managed to
get by with his alternate coffee makers (Joe Backup, at your service). His coffee arsenal consists of a Moka Pot, a
couple of French presses, a 4 cup coffee maker, and a 38 cup coffee maker (only
used at the annual yard sale, though). There is a supply of instant coffee,
too, which, though there is a ton of it, is still growing hair on it since it’s
definitely going to take a major world depression to force me to drink that
stuff. But, even at that, most of it will be bartered or sold.
Well, the other day, wouldn’t you know that the Yo-Yo Twins
stumbled into a nearby yard sale (imagine that!). Lo and behold! Sitting all
forlorn and in need of a coffee drinker was a big ol’ Keurig K-Cup coffee
maker! If that doesn’t just make you pluck your banjo, it was exactly the same
model and color as the deceased one!
It had a light layer of “Springville insulation” resting on it but that
has never kept the this ol’ sale-er from snatching a bargain! The nice folks
advised that they don’t drink a lot of coffee so they decided to ditch the Keurig
(and assured that it does work just fine). “How much did they want for it?”,
you ask? Ten bucks! Sold!
When it wound up on the kitchen counter, the layer of “insulation”
was removed and it was obvious that the nice neighbors weren’t kidding. You couldn’t
tell that it had even been used!! Zowie!! The K-cups are stacked and ready for
deployment!
Egg Plants Under Duress or Rescue the Flourishing: there were two lovely and thriving egg plants
in garden box number two (there are four boxes). They were blooming and, since
we have a large hive of bees (i.e. pollinators), there was no reason to think
that there wouldn’t be a nice harvest of big ol’ fat “Black Beauty” eggplants.
Ah, but this is “Rancho Relaxo”. You have to be prepared for all contingencies because things can get...interesting...around here.
Imagine the look of anguish on the Ol’ Gardener’s face when
one of his beautiful large flourishing plants was all wilted and flat on the
ground! This was no mystery by any stretch. A vile varmint and bane of all gardeners
and who abides in the dank, dark, nether regions of the rancho, was responsible
for this. He had already destroyed most of my potato crop (75% qualifies as “most”.
They were replanted within a few days). The destruction of a perfectly good
eggplant event was good for a bit of grumbling.
But, also imagine when, a few days later, the larger and even
more flourishing plant was also found compromised! That was good for a large “AUUUUUGH!”
and a resounding “RATS!!” (conveniently borrowed from my pal, Charlie Brown,
since he’s so good at it).
The first plant was gnawed off at the ground level so wasn’t
salvageable at all. However, the second plant had its roots eaten so was simply
water starved. That led to a quick grabbing of a wire basket that was planted
next to the original planting spot. The injured plant was quickly transplanted
into the safety of the basket (where it should have been in the first place. *Sigh*).
An immediate water regimen was introduced so that its roots would flourish.
Flourish they did because, after three weeks, the plant is
now almost back to normal. It is expected to have fruit on it but it will be
much later in the season due to the trauma. 12 more seeds were started and are
being nursed along so that we will
have eggplants this year no matter what!
Yes! We have lots of green beans! We have lots of green
beans today!: reckon the gophers are too busy getting fat on my potatoes,
eggplants, and tomato plants to bother with the green beans because they have
largely been untouched. In a couple of weeks we’ll have the first picking!
Because of the critters and “stale” seeds, they had to be
replanted three times. The good news is that we’ll have a “rolling harvest” and
will likely get a really great harvest this year (which will be greatly appreciated
because we got almost no beans last year).
Varmint Be Gone or Victory Over Varmint Day: it took
a while but the Ol’ Rancher finally got the best of one of the varmints that were
destroying his garden beds. There was a lot of digging of holes and
following of tunnels required to achieve success.
A newly-discovered tunnel had a hose shoved into it to
further open it up or at least find a direction. Much to the delight of the hose
wrangler, a soggy and angry California Pocket Gopher, fighting for air, pushed
his way out into the sunlight (rendering him temporarily blind). Rancho Ran
wasn’t about to lose such an advantage against an evil enemy. The gopher was
dead in seconds (there would be no decent burial): Rancho Ran – 1; Nasty vile tunneling
varmint – 0.
The next day, it was determined that the late fuzzy
destroyer had a pal in the neighborhood so the war still rages. His enemy still
has a hose, high-pressure water nozzles, shovels, hoes, and gopher gas to fight
with so the game is afoot.
There is a sad addendum, though. We lost one of our Golden
Lace-Wing Wyandottes to a case of “chicken stupidity”. The “Rancho Rampo” (folding
aluminum ramps for unloading things from a trailer or a pickup bed) were left
on the front porch after unloading “Rancho Hondo”. Our birdies do like to
frequent the front porch so this little layer found herself between the porch railing and the heavy ramp (which has slots in it to make it lighter but
without compromising its strength). Something (perhaps Abbie) spooked her into
thinking that she was trapped between the fence and the ramp. So, she made a frantic
attempt to push her fat little carcass through the ramp slot but that action knocked
the ramp over. When it fell over, it fell on her neck and broke it (have I mentioned that a chicken's brain is about the size of a pea?). That leaves
us with 4 layers and 2 brooders.
It has to be admitted that the ramp shouldn’t have
been there in the first place. It had been left there due to the procrastination of the Ol’ Rancher who had assured himself that he would get around to it.
So, I reckon you could say that the hen died from a case of “rancher stupidity”
(maybe he can blame it on the concussion he received when he stupidly slammed
his forehead into a low-lying tree limb last month). It's time to thing about getting a few more layers since ours are running out of eggs (after about 2.5-3 years).
Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long
happenings at Rancho Relaxo: home of Rancho Ran, the world's foremost authority
(the previous one died): home of the Yo-Yo Twins, home of a retarded duck, home
of Connie the Canner (world's greatest side-kook): where the air smells, where
alliteration reigns supreme, where being modern is optional, where there are no
slaves to fashion, where things can get...interesting, where it’s all news to
me, and where...you just never know.
