Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the dryer-than-a-ten-day-old-biscuit foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Like last month, we've had a break in the weather and are mighty grateful that the tar on our roads isn't flowing. But. we're sort of back to being normal again with high 90's and a few low triple digit highs for the day. Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo happy huevos industrial complex.
NOTE: click on pics to enlarge
Once in awhile, you simply have to conjure up a few things from the past: like this "SOS" dish that people either love or hate. It has been served up to our military since at least WW1 and shouldn't be a stranger to most households.
Hamburger gravy on toast wasn't a stranger in our house when I was young but it hasn't been a staple at all since then. So, it was time to do things up right and get back to basics.
The proper name for "SOS" is "creamed chipped beef on toast". You use dried beef that's been chopped up and then add it to a simple milk and flour gravy. It just so happened that I had accrued a few of the small jars of the stuff so it was time to make this tasty recipe. Most likely, I'll use hamburger for the next go around.
The (easy) directions were followed and the scrumptious meal ensued. The toast was a tad overcooked but I actually like that so that's why you see a not-so-picture-perfect plating. Enough gravy was made to have a second meal the next day for lunch. My, but that's good stuff!
This is the longest section of a 40'+ mast that will ultimately be used as the anchor point for one of my HF wire dipoles which will then be secured at the top of my 60' crank-up tower. It will then be referred to as a "sloper" dipole because one end will be higher than the other. It will help to get my signal out of the "bowl" that I'm in at this location/QTH. NVIS ("near vertical incidence skywave") is a requirement here due to the mountains.
Side note: I was using our (Longview, WA) W7DG ham club's stock 100 watt Kenwood TS830S transceiver in WA one evening and using the 80 meter "sloper" dipole antenna. I worked Pitcairn Island in the far south Pacific Ocean with no problems (4990 miles). My contact, David Christian, was one of only a few Ham operators on the island.
Jim King, KJ6KK, gave me the mast and a ton of other hardware to go with it. He's downsizing and can't use it where he'll be moving to. Thanks, Jim!
For the expats: this is the new county building at Main and Olive streets. It's where the old Porterville Hotel used to be prior to it's demise in a huge fire. Most people don't recall that the business that abutted the hotel was an auto parts store owned and operated by Ronnie Witzel. I haven't run into him lately but I suspect that he collected a decent insurance settlement and retired. He earned it.
All ended well though. After suffering a puncture wound to the forehead and a bloody scratch down the cheek, I chose to concede while I was still breathing and exit the fray with the newly-hatched chick (fighting against two mad hens is not a fair fight!). As my old grandpappy used to say, "Pay attention, son, or some day a chicken may kick your butt". Add one more "character mark".
This is Abbie who is looking at me askance for interrupting her nap in her carefully crafted dog wallow. Rather than go full crazy chicken on me, she decided to give me a pass since I've been spoiling her a lot lately. Bless her lil' doggy heart.
Fuzz ball is doing well, too. He's a bit too happy tearing apart and scattering the cardboard boxes that I have to load up and haul off. But, I suffer long with him 'cause he's my buddy and a pal.
This is another of our little peepers. I guess the old folks will never tire of all of the cute baby chicks. It really is a job to take care of so many of them but it won't be long until they're in the general population or at least in the "halfway hootch" in the coop. We have a nice 4' x 3' x 3' cage on legs that keeps the little ones who are too big to be inside until they can be released into the mayhem of chicken society. If we release them when they are too small/young, the larger birds will actually attack and even kill them.
Tip O' The Day:
"If you swim with a friend, your chances of getting eaten by a shark will drop by 50%" (Anonymous)
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Can you believe it?! 82 days until Christmas! Unreal! And, it's only a few weeks until Halloween. There a lot of10 foot tall skeletons and ghouls sprouting up in people's yards around the area. Halloween is just around the corner. Before you know it, we'll be eatin' turkey, too! I swan (if you haven't swanned, you haven't yet lived long enough) that something is ripping a hole in the space-time continuum. Moving along....
Henry Henbanger II: Our big bad rooster, Henry, is the boss of the coop and he knows it. It’s been that way since he got big enough to kick the previous boss’ feathery fanny. It’s the “pecking order, don’tcha know, and now, he’s the head pecker. I let him strut tall and keep his beliefs so we've had a pretty good working relationship. There have been exceptions like his occasional bad mood or when he gets a tad too proud. Not sure what that’s all about but it could be that he hasn’t done enough crowing or such (though we are hatching chicks like never before).
The other day (when lots of things happen around here), while I was tending to the chicks parked in the small hootch in the coop, Ol’ Bang sneaked up behind me with the intention of reinforcing his dominance. He made a quick lunge at my leg so as to run me off. Thankfully, I was wearing floppy sweat pants and wasn’t injured (oh, yeah. A big rooster can easily draw blood). He’s done this a few times now and I do understand that he’s the “cock o’ the walk”. However, he needs to undo his ‘tude, humble himself, and sign the peace treaty or he’s likely to end up as the main ingredient of a combo meal some day...soon. He can be at peace and be a winner of he can be a 7 piece chicken dinner.
Big Bertha or 'Tis the season to be freezin' - The other day (when lots of things happen around here), it was time to fire up Big Bertha, the freeze dryer. We had only used it for a couple of test runs after it was returned from the Utah factory (where its compressor was replaced) because the temperature in the garage was just too hot for it to operate efficiently. So, you can imagine the disappoint that Connie the Freeze Dryer suffered when the machine failed to progress past its initialization stag. This was very...interesting...since that was the same presentation when the compressor failed the previous time.
It was even more disappointing given that she spent an hour or more slicing and preparing several pounds of bananas for drying. The "nanners" ended up being ruined since we couldn't do anything with them at the time. We're rapidly coming into cooler temps so the freeze dryer needs to be operational soon.
The factory was contacted and a repair request ticket was opened. They need pictures of the manufacturer's ID plate of both the machine and its compressor. This is the second major issue we've faced so far and we are not "cappy hampers", to say the least. Stay tuned for the remainder of this saga.
Little boxes little boxes and they all look just the same: We get the produce trimmings from a local supermarket which helps us feed our bird herd a really balanced and healthy diet. However, you wouldn't even believe how fast boxes can multiply! We get from four to 16 boxes twice per week. Each of those boxes has to be emptied then cut down, stacked, and then, eventually, loaded into Wooley Pulley for a ride to the Springville Transfer Station 1.5 miles east of us. It takes a while but, eventually the trailer is loaded and we're off to the dump.
However, this is Rancho Relaxo and you just never know what will happen around here. Not long ago (but longer than the other day), we need to make a dump run to haul off the boxes. But, the trailer was fully loaded by our grounds keeper with yard and tree trimmings. He had failed to empty it and left it loaded so that left you know who to do the back breaking chore of hauling it off and unloading it. That wasn't part of my agenda. In fact, that's why we hired the guy in the first place. The Ol' Rancher has broken his back (and other parts of his anatomy) many times in his life and he has declared an end to the matter: but not this time.
After tarping the trailer down (or face a fine for not covering it), we hauled the thing down to the dump. On most occasions, the trailer is unloaded within about fifteen minutes or so. Not this time. Because of the huge load and the fact that it was comprised of different types of refuse, it took almost an hour of terribly strenuous pulling, tugging, lifting, untangling, and even handling small pieces at a time to unload (in the hot sun). It's been a while since the Ol' Rancher has been physically wrecked like that. But, there weren't any options. We needed to use the trailer and the grounds keeper wasn't available. It took a few days to recover but things are back to normal. Since that time, the boxes have multiplied into a huge mountain out back. Great. At least the trailer is available so they will be cut down, loaded, and hauled off soon. I'd rather be flying.
Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo (aka “Dos Acres”): home of Rancho Ran, the world's least-most greatest authority: home of the Yo-Yo twins and three ducks that we try to keep in a row (one of which is retarded): 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.
