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Greetings and welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for August. Once again, we’re running late with our post this month just like the previous few issues. And, like previously, there are lots of reasons for that but you will be spared most of them (it would help if I could get a day off around here). In any case, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the dry-as-toast foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Thanks to La Niña, and despite everything being "California Gold" in color, we have been having an exquisite summer! The daily high temps are almost like April and early May around here (though that is alternating with some real scorcher days)! Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo global headquarters.
To the right is a picture of our young pup, Fuzzy (aka Fuzz Dawg). It is little wonder that he's no longer a lap dog in the shop.
Here's Fuzzy playing dead after being "defeated" by Abbie, the princess ruler of the Rancho. Earlier, she let him defeat her (see picture below). It was great to see her back to her old self again and romping with Fuzz Ball. She was out of sorts for a few weeks while healing up after being mauled by a bobcat and a bulldog. Romping wasn't on her agenda.
It's hot and dry around here during the summer but it is still a pretty place.
The flood made a mess of the River Island Golf Course which is only about a mile from our place. This is the bridge that crossed the Tule River. They recently declared bankruptcy so it remains to be seen just what will happen. Lots of sad folks around these parts.
Another shot of the not-so-green fairway.
Connie the Canner has normal hearing abilities which appears rather like super-human hearing when compared to mine. My hearing has been compromised by years of sirens, guns, airplanes, music, and tractor driving (heavy equipment/earth movers). That means that when I use the steamer/foaming wand on my espresso machine, it is an unbearable torture for her. Here's the solution to that issue. It's an all-in-one heating and foaming device. How cool is that?! It does a nifty job of heating the milk and foaming the milk but is almost as quiet as a mouse! She loves it so it gets to stay (and so do I!). They retail for 39.95 but we got this one (new in the box) at a yard sale for....get this...10 bucks! Zowie!
This is one of the latest taco trucks in Porterville. It's on the SE corner of the intersection of Plane and E. Date. It's next to the old Warnke's Pharmacy (which is now an Arab Smoke Shop) which abuts "Big Brand Tires".
This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by "Winsome
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Ol' Rancher sent you. You'll be glad you did!
Rancho tip of the day:
“He who tooteth not his own horn, of the same is he not
tooted”
Break-feast: don’tcha know that the old folks around
here can get a good case of the “hongries” without much assistance. We usually
placate our hunger with healthy grub like cereal and such (we are, as a fact, “cereal
killers” around here). But, on some occasions, our stomach and lust for good
food simply overrides our intellect and modest diet and we go hog wild for some
good ol’ pig meat with a side of grease.
And, whereas we have farm-fresh eggs, there’s simply no good
reason for us to not eat these luscious, rich, tasty cackle berries. We also have
a nice supply of breads which, when toasted, soak up real butter oh, so well. So,
since we couldn’t find any reasons to not have a big breakfast (not that we
searched all that hard), we just built ourselves a big ol’ feast!
It wasn’t exotic at all. In fact, it was a basic as you can
get: bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee. Ah, but you just know that this is Rancho
Relaxo and things (even breakfast) around here can get…interesting.
First off, we didn't whomp up a side of bacon; we whomped up a load of bacon. There was none of
the “two strips, please” stuff. That is, except for Connie the Canner who insists
on being a human and eating in moderation (reckon you can tell whose big idea
this was). Being the good husband that I am, I didn’t protest at all (noting
that the other 4/5 of a pound was all mine!).
All went well and all of the good grub was scarfed down as proficiently as any scarfing professional could do. We should have had some good gravy to go with the good grub but someone was in a hurry to get his teeth in action. I thought I had done a pretty good job and was mildly pleased with myself when I was finished. Connie weighed in on the matter: “Thanks for leaving the flowers on the plate, hon”,
Fuzzy Wuzzy Report:
I must say that I keep loving this goofy pooch more and more as he matures into
an intelligent furry buddy and a pal. He’s fun loving and still a romping pup
but he’s also starting to be a great guard dog. Of course, he doesn’t want
anyone to know that he has a large yellow stripe down the middle of his back
which would betray his very frightening “big dog” bark. Bless his heart.
He’s put the fear of God in a couple of folks so far. But,
they surely weren’t the ones we wanted to leave a huge pile of excrement on our
driveway. We will, no doubt, need to take pains to make sure that Fuzzball
knows exactly who the “friendlies” are around here or our business may wain to
an unwelcomed degree.
Anyway, if we do happen to find an unexpected monstrous malodorous
mound or mess in our driveway or around the house, we know that Fuzzball is
doing his job. There’s no mistaking his bark because it echoes off the mountain
behind us. He gets their attention.
He’s also getting used to our new technique for keeping him
cool during our blazing summer days (which have been amazingly few, as of late).
It’s actually easy and a concept that has been around for probably ten thousand
years. He gets showered down with cold water and, because he’s wearing a large
carpet on his back, he becomes a four-legged swamp cooler. Can’t seem to get short-haired
Abbie, the princess coon doggie, enthused about it yet but she may come around
if the temps creep up to 110 or so.
Princess Abbie
Report: It’s hard to imagine how fast Abbie has healed up! I’ve not seen
such a thing! It’s difficult to tell that she had been so brutally injured only
a few weeks ago! There’s only a couple of small areas whose scars are still
vanishing more every day. Amazing!
The only thing that has changed is her attitude. She seems
to be quite a bit more protective of the Ol’ Rancher and way less tolerant of
both Fuzzy and Pedro, the neighbor’ cute, white, boisterous, pup. She keeps
them in line when they weren’t even out of line that I could tell. Who knows.
She’s quite a bit more plaintive about getting fed, too.
When she knows that the chow hall is open, she begins to demand her share of
the meal first (and in no uncertain terms). Of course, it has to be remembered
that she is a princess, don’tcha know. So, just how can you deny a dandy doughty
dauntless coon-doggie from being first in line for breakfast?
Grandkiddies Galore!
or We got grandkids!: It had been about three years since we’ve seen the
Howden family. They moved from Torrance
to a suburb of Houston but came up to visit prior to their departure to
Texas. That was our last time to see them. We were shocked to see who much
they’d grown (it’s amazing what happens when you feed kids!)!
Hubby, Dan, had to fly to San Francisco for business so the
rest of the family rented a car and headed downstate to see family and friends. The
older three siblings stayed in Texas to tend to their jobs and so it was just the younger
set who got to come west. We’ve made a note so see if we can go east soon to
see them and the rest of the family in Abilene and San Antonio (and, hopefully,
OK)…soon!
The stars of the show were the baby chicks. We hadn’t
actually planned to have them in large box in the living room. That was
something that we had told ourselves we wouldn’t do again because of the smell
(I mean, just who wants their living room to smell like a chicken coop, eh?).
However, this is Rancho Relaxo, after all. And, you just never know. The kids
never tired of holding the chicks. They even named a few of them (“Hugo” sounds
like a good name for a baby bird, I guess). It'll help the chicks get a bit more tamed and that's a good thing.
It was great to spend a full day and evening with them and then have breakfast the next morning prior to their departure. But, all too soon, it was “huggies all around” then time to go. We all had a great time, of course. But, when Trixie and the kids were ready to depart, Connie excused herself explaining that she needed to grab a handkerchief because she was a bit teary because of not being able to see them again for awhile. Being the practical and helpful hubby that I am, I told her to “get a mop” (I just wanted to be a blessin’). She was sort of amused but I'm still going to look for a bear trap in the shower.
Wired or Who put that there?: The other day (when
lots of things happen around here), the ol’ tractor driver mounted his genuine
Sears Craftsman “Excellerator GT” riding lawn tractor and got ready to take
down the thriving jungle in our front yard. All went well until the blades were
engaged and the engine instantly died. That was..interesting..given that it was
fully functional the previous time it
was used. There was no recall at all of having any issue at all (other than an
infrequent reluctance of the PTO clutch to engage).
The big whacker was driven up on a single ramp so the underside
of the deck could be inspected. Lo and behold, there was a long strand of
barbed wired very (and I mean very) tightly wound around two of the three spindles.
Well…that made my day.
Make note that a 26
hp Kohler motor can do a great job of tightening barbed wire or anything else.
There was no time to address the issue for a couple of days
but when it was time to tackle the task, things got ugly. For one thing, somebody
picked one of the hottest days of the week to work on his tractor (the guy isn’t known for his
brilliance). That made things pretty uncomfortable. Hot metal and flesh really don't mix well and the tractor had half the day to soak up the degrees and become a high-end heat sink.
Then, there just wasn’t a lot of room to deal with because it still wasn't very high off the ground and the
deck braces and the blade were in the way. Swell. Add to that the wire was so tightly
wound that it took monumental effort to wrench enough slack in it to be able to
pry it open so it could be cut. Even with a hefty pair of linemen’s pliers, it
wasn’t possible to cut through both strands so a huge amount of energy was
expended prying the wire apart so it could be cut. That stuff is tuff and it's awfully
difficult to cut even a single strand.
Finally, after 30 minutes of whacked knuckles, broken fingernails,
abraded skin, groaning, grunting, and a completely wasted and baked mechanic, the job of untangling just one
of the blades was accomplished. Just one. The other will have to wait until someone repairs the mechanic (reckon, I'll call it the “mechanic recovery program”). Stay tuned for the next issue by which time El Wrencho at the rancho should be finished untangling things. I’m pretty sure it will be finished otherwise
no one will be able to see our house for the jungle.
Update regarding updating: the Ol’ Rancher has been
publishing a monthly newsletter intermittently since 1998 or so. The preferred
software has always been MS Office Word and Publisher. The original version used
was Office 97which was then upgraded to 2002 (still my favorite for its ease of
use). Later, it was 2007, 2010 (the old faithful), and 2013 (which I didn’t
like and retrograded to 2010).
Not long ago (but longer than the other day), 2010 was acting up; I just don't have time for such time wasting and distracting things. Thankfully, an opportunity to get 2021 at a discount arose so it was purchased and installed. Actually, my first thought was that I wasn’t going to like it (based on my experience with 2013 which I hated but don't remember particularly why at the moment). They must have refined the thing because I’m now using it without pulling any teeth or hair. It’s running fast and smoothly. It’s my friend.
Calling all Luddites! Calling all Luddites! Now hear
this! Air Fryers are our friends!!: If you are ready to listen, they are not, I
repeat, they are not a commie plot like I was telling y’all!! Here at the old
folk’s home, we have at least two air fryers (we’re still looking for the third
one that we put in a “safe place”). One of these (a brand new one!) has been left forlornly and
unused on the shelf for at least three years. In any case, we have never used
an air fryer here at the ranch! Talk about being “behind the times”! Anyway, that
lapse of lucidity has come to an abrupt end. We plugged the big baby in and turned it on.
Glutenous Gallo Report: Our baby birds are doing thriving and doing great! They are about as hungry as a Pratt & Whitney R-4360 radial engine at take off power! The original three feral chicks are now on their own in the general population and are growing up fast. The four that we had in the small hutch on the back porch are now in the large cage in the coop in which the feral birds were housed. They, too, are growing and doing well. The latest batch of birdies are now in the hutch on the back porch and no longer in the large box in the living room (and our house no longer smells like a chicken factory!). It won’t be long until they will be out in the cage in the coop, too.
Flooding?! Flooding?! We don’t need no stinking flooding! or Abandon coop! : What look are you supposed to have on your face when you enter your chicken coop in the middle of summer…..have had no rain in months…..the back yard hasn’t been irrigated in a long long time…..and the entire coop is flooded? It took a couple of seconds for the Ol' Rancher's posi-traumic brain to register what was happening. Talk about a surprise!
Thankfully, this scenario had played out before but it took
a second for it to register. Someone left the sprinklers on out back in the
oranges (reckon, I’ll fire him if I find him). The area got saturated and the
runoff made a bee line to our coop. So, with wading boots installed, the Ol’
Rancher stomped out back and turned off the sprinklers. No doubt the oranges thought
they were going to drown!
To the dump, to the dump, to the dump, dump, dump!:
Every now and again, Rancho Relaxo needs its garbage hauled off to the local
transfer station (aka “the dump”) about a mile away. We must
be mighty trashy people because it doesn’t take long to fill Wooly Pully above the
gunnels with our refuse.
After tarping everything down (required or they add an extra
5 fee for uncovered trash), it was “off to the dump we go”. Off-loading was the
usual non-event but things were odd from there. When it was time to pay the
dump master (what else do you call him?), there had been a change. The previous
guy was no longer minding the dumpster. The younger replacement asked, “Do you need
a receipt?” to which I answered no and readied to turn around and resume my day
of recovering from being the Rancho Trashman. I immediately noticed that he
didn’t fill out the dump registry/log. Nothing was said but I knew he had
skimmed the money for himself. He would only have to do that a few times per
day and he would be driving a new pickup before long.
There were a couple of pickups waiting their turn (there’s just
not a lot of room at our tiny transfer station) so I stopped and advised them
always ask for a receipt and told them why. C’est las vie.
Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo: home of Rancho Ran, the world's least-most greatest authority: home of the Yo-Yo twins and home of a retarded duck: home of Connie the Canner, the world's greatest side-kook and CEE (Chief of Everything Else): where the air smells and where alliteration reigns supreme: where being modern is optional and where there are no slaves to fashion: where the eggs are always mostly fresh: where things can get...interesting: where it's all news to me and where...you just never know.
