RANCHO JULIO CALIENTE

 

You just know that, with all of the "fuzzers" running around here, that Abbie would get around to catching another one. This one is a bit different. The next door neighbor had a  leftover 6' section of 4" PVC pipe next to her house. Abbie, not ever caring just when or where she trees, found a naughty brown fuzzer (daring to traverse here sacred doggie territory) hiding in the old drain pipe. The baying began which, of course, alerted the Ol' Fuzzer Hater who has long since learned to distinguish a bark from a bay. Sho' nuff, Abbie had treed again. Ah, but she added a twist. She dragged the 6' pipe over to her turf so as to have legal jurisdiction (it should be supposed). Legal or not, I grabbed the water hose, tilted the pipe up and cut loose with the high pressure spray. With no where to go but down and out, the brown bane instantly fell  prey to Abbie the Fuzzer Conqueror. Just look at her    proud look: the look of victory. This is the second victory in two weeks. 

 It's fire season around these parts so it isn't any surprise to the various and sundry fire fighting aircraft. During a recent fire, the venerable Sikorsky S-64/CH-54 "Sky Crane" was employed. As it has many times before during other fires, it flew over our place. It is America's largest helicopter and hails from 1960. Though we see them regularly here, there were only 31 of them built. Many of the remaining ones are used for fire fighting because they have a lifting capacity of 20,000 pounds. 

Here's  newly hatched "Chick-a-Dee" hopping up on momma's back. She squatted and he hopped right up and had absolutely no problem doing so! I had not seen that before! Broody Mae is doing a great job of mothering! 

   

 Here's a shot of Connie the Canner's wrist after she fell from a small stool in the kitchen. The lateral displacement is obvious. It was a very painful and nasty compression fracture of the distal radius bone. The ulna seems to not have been affected. The X-ray is below and shows the negative and reverse view. No volley ball for awhile, eh? 

She's recovering from surgery very rapidly and with only minimal use of analgesics. Physical therapy is in the works.

    

These are the flowers the fam sent to Connie. She greatly appreciated them! 

                  

The rain that we got in April knocked most of the blossoms off our plum trees (making us plumb mad). Nevertheless, though two of our trees failed to produce, the other two have enough to satisfy our need for plums. These are plumb pretty and are right juicy! 

Grandson, Jeff, sauntering through the Fresno Air Terminal baggage area. This is his first trip to CA since he was a youngster. His timing was excellent because he missed the heat! It had been fairly warm but the temps stayed in the 90's while he was here (but quickly rose after he left). We had four days of having a great time of food, fellowship, and travel. We'll do this again! 

This ol' taco tucker hasn't knocked over a taco truck in awhile and Jeff had never had the chance to do so. My experience has shown that some of the best Mexican food comes from these trucks. So, we found this mobile restaurant parked at the "Mountain View Market" in the Three Rivers area. After a couple of combo plates, we were back on our way to the "big trees" in the "Sequoia National Forest". No mas hambre. 

This is the entrance way to the "General Sherman" giant Sequoia tree. It's the largest tree in the world. It's a once-in-a-lifetime sight for many people. 

  Proof! We were almost stunned to see so many people helping each other take pictures. The Korean/Japanese folks seemed to be amazed at how total strangers were so quick to help them, too! They were digging it!

What you are seeing (bottom right hand of the vines) is not a chicken with its neck hung up in a grape vine. And, it isn't a magical hovering chicken. It's a hen that's leaping up and snatching my beautiful huge clusters of ripening grapes!! Zounds! We've been robbed! There were more than a dozen gorgeous almost-ripe grape bunches hanging across the entire front of the pumphouse and around the sides. Within a couple of days, I couldn't help but notice that most of them were gone! I suspected the ground squirrels but was still scratching my head when I saw this little feathery berry robber continually hopping up and helping herself to a free meal of grapes. We almost had fried chicken on the menu that night!  Next season will find some sort of netting in place so that all of the hard work isn't in vain. 

         

 

It’s July and it’s past the halfway point of the year! Doesn’t that just knock over your outhouse?! If the clock doesn’t slow down, the next “Rancho Relaxo” blog could be December’s edition! 58 years ago, the “Safari’s” gave us “Wipeout!” (I can still play it on the guitar).

The heat is on around here. It was 106 today, it'll be 109 tomorrow, and 111 on Sunday. Muy caliente! Success Lake is lookin' mighty good! 

Gimme a break! Or: It's all in the wrist: Pursuant to the rat race around here, Connie (recently) lost balance and fell off of a small wooden stool. Seems that something important was hiding in the cabinet above the refrigerator. When she unintentionally trusted her life to gravity, she instinctively stuck her arm out to break her fall and straight-armed the floor; it broke the fall but also broke her wrist. A quick look at her wrist revealed that it was malformed and it was noticeably painful (of course). It wasn't just a dislocation.

Long story short, X-rays revealed a nasty compression fracture of the distal radius with lateral displacement of the wrist. Short story longer: she was referred to Sierra Orthopedic in Fresno where they scheduled her for surgery the following Friday.

Fast forward to that next Friday: eight screws (!) and two plates later, she's fine and recovering from the repair and from the carpal tunnel reduction. She's doing well and in only relatively light pain which is mitigated by the prescribed “NORCO”. The good news is that she only requires half doses but does keep an ice pack close and stays relatively still so as not to aggravate the wrist (nobody likes an aggravated wrist). Update: she’s now getting by on minimal doses of Ibuprophen (400mg every four hours) and an occasional Tramadol. She’ll save the heavy hitting meds for times of physical therapy if they're needed. Otherwise, we won't sweat the next toothache.

Ol’ Ran the Canner Man? Or “Them maters won’t wait”: What do you do when the head canning lady is out of whack and can’t tackle and can the load of tomatoes that were just harvested? Well, you can give them all away and just buy “Del Monte”, I suppose. But, this is Rancho Relaxo and you just know we're not going to do that. So, Ol' Ran the Canner Man strapped on his apron (not the one that says "Superman" on it. That one's for BBQ's) and set himself to follow advice from the resident professional.

 We teamed up on the Romas and had them parboiled, pealed, and canned in no time at all. It was an enjoyable experience what with it being the first time at canning (I've watched a lot, though). A few days later, after another tomato harvest (the squash and okra are next), we parboiled then diced them and rehearsed the mater matter and canned many more maters...uh huh. This also goes to show you that even a  beginning canner can do well when getting help from a pro.

Over the hills and through the woods: Some of California’s splendor abides in the “Sequoia National Forest” and adjacent “Kings Canyon National Forest”. Connie the Canner and the Ol’ Rancher have been to these forests but our grandson, Jeff, has not. He’s from the “land of green” in Washington state near the Canadian border (you know: where it’s actually green year-round). So, we took him to see the “big trees”.

Without controversy, for those who live farther away, it may easily be a once-in-a-lifetime event to get to see these trees; how much more so when it’s the “General Sherman” tree? It’s the largest tree on earth and it’s an easy day-trip from here (albeit, 78 mostly-winding miles).

We walked almost a half-mile down to the “General Sherman” giant Sequoia tree (the short cut is reserved for the handicapped parking and tour busses). The old dude didn’t do too badly. Jeff is 21 years old and in good shape and a distance runner. Me? I’m OK and in decent shape (for the shape I’m in) and wasn’t terribly short of breath (other than the altitude). The only advantage he had over the old dude was that he could walk and talk at the same time. Ol’ Grandad listened a lot and was glad chewing gum wasn't involved.

 Once there, we were somewhat surprised at the amazingly short line of tourists awaiting their turn to get the picture taken in front of the mightiest tree in the world. We thought there would be more since it was Friday! When it was our turn, the guys behind us volunteered to take our pictures. When finished, we reciprocated and took pictures of them. We departed soon afterward lest we die of fun poisoning.

We exited the park by way of the northern route. Though longer, it has far fewer acute turns and is an easier drive. It was decided to just drive to Fresno on Highway 180 to see the changes and improvements along that route. The drive wasn't regretted at all but it did tax the old explorer a bit more than expected. It was good to get home so we could un-lax.

Gopher Wars: Well, the Ol’ Rancher is winning…sort of. At least I’m up a few rounds this time. The other day (when lots of things happen around here), two fresh gopher holes were noticed out back (as if  large fresh mounds of dirt could not be noticed); it was time to get into war mode. So far, the only effective weapon has been the high pressure hose. Some folks have had good luck using traps but that just doesn't seem to fit the bill around here (though it's still being investigated as to what is being done wrong). The hose was quickly engaged and the first hole was opened up to expose the enemy.

Using a hose can be time consuming since it doesn't always work and because you don't always find the right tunnel (though usually so). Plus, you just never know where the stupid furry bugger is going to be even though it's a fresh hole. This time the gopher's luck ran out.

 The first hole was lower than the other so the gushing hose was shoved in. The tunnel cleared quickly and a ton of (irrigation ditch) water gushed in. Nada. So, the higher hole a few feet away was assaulted. Again, the high pressure water made quick work of the obstruction/dam in the hole. Water poured in and nothing seemed to happen until a dark colored soaking wet critter started to squiggle and almost swim out of the hole. Would you like to guess who was standing by ready for a little action? You bet! Abbie the Wander Dog. Scratch one California Pocket Gopher. 

Rat-a-tat!: Speaking of our beloved coon dog, Abbie the Wandering Wonder Dog, never ceases to create some sort of adventure or excitement around the ranch. The other day (when lots of things happen around here), she treed Rancho Hondo, the ranch ATV. My lightning-fast mind figured that one of the local field mice or lizards had taken refuge from the heat or was looking for a place to build a nest in the innards of our four-wheeled handy hauler.

Yet again, the handiest gadget at such a time is the trusted water hose. With a quick and mighty squirt from the high-pressure nozzle, out came a big ol’ rat! The large gray presumptuous rodent never had a chance. Abbie – 1; nasty ugly rata – 0.

Sub "Sonic": This ol’ hamburger stalker has eaten at (at least) five "Sonics" in four states (Texas, Kansas, Oklahoma, California) and have had pretty much the same experience each time: mediocre food and utterly lousy fries and/or tots. This time, in Kingsburg (about 20 min. south of Fresno), was no different.

 We had just made the long drive (about 95 miles) from the "General Sherman" tree and were tired and hungry after the trip. And, we were still another 65 miles from home. So, since Jeff had never eaten at a "Sonic", we pulled into the one in Kingsburg with a sore case of the "hongries" .Everything went downhill from there.

Everyone made their order with my order being the big cheeseburger combo meal with their specialty "tots".  For whatever reason, merely ordering was a major chore. Then, after ordering, we noticed that the other cars also had orders that were being straightened out. When our order arrived (in a reasonable time), we had to have it straightened out (and even then it wasn't fully correct but we let it go). But, it was the food that made things even worse. 

The burger was mediocre ("fair to middling" won't even cut it); it was just "blah": a real "nothing burger" and nothing to write home about other than to explain how bad it was and how chintzy the meat patty was (the price wasn't chintzy!). But, it was the wretched "tots" that wrecked my Rambler. The request was for "fresh tots" so that they would be hot and crispy. Instead, potato "things" showed up: not hot and not crispy: not flavorful and not enjoyable. And, they were exactly like the five other servings of (not) "tots". They were dead spuds; duds. After trying Connie's cold barely-cooked fries, I was convinced that we should have gone to "Taco Belch". This may have been the worst over-all dollar value fast-food meal ever encountered.

To be fair, Jeff enjoyed his chicken sandwich. However, without even trying their chicken sandwich, I'll first drive out of my way to get to "Popeye's" or "Chik-fil-a" and leave "Sonic" in my rearview mirror.

I think the icing on the cake was when the cook came out to use the public restroom (at the back of the store). The guy took up camp in there! Jeff had to use the restroom and waited and waited and waited. He'd been in there so long that we thought we'd have to call 911. 

Upon arriving back home, it seemed reasonable to look up the satisfaction rating for "Sonic" drive ins. It wasn't a real stunner to find that it was a "3" on a scale of 5. What is sad is that that was the average rating for all of the "Sonics" in our part of the state! Not one was higher than 3. One guy posted: "I rarely come out and say a restaurant sucks but I think I have to make an exception for "Sonic". I keep giving them new chances but I think I'm done trying to "make it work". Five chances is fair enough for me, too; I'm done. 

Can you dig it?: Connie has done a great job of planting flowers in her garden boxes that are on both the front porch and back patio. But, there's a problem. Our dirty birds seem to find great pleasure in excavating the planters. That won't work. For one thing, they've broken several of her really nice planter pots. For another, they actually dig out the flowers! 

One silly bird even tried to make a nest in one of the larger boxes up front. Connie shooed her off but not without the goofy biddy complaining that she was just trying to lay an egg (you don't speak "Chickenese"?). It's getting to be rather tiresome to have to sweep or hose off the front porch day after day. We're looking for options. We may hang bird netting on both sides of the railing. But, in any case, if these dirty birds don't change their excavating ways, they may be taken off the "protected species" list. "Pass the salt please". 

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.