Frebrero En El Invierno Pero Sin Lluvia - It's February But There Isn't Any Rain

Welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for February! This month's issue is not on time. That’s probably because things are still rather hectic around here. We’re busier than the crew of a leaky sub.

Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the begging-to-be-Irish-green foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Just like last month, this is our rainy season but someone forgot to tell the weatherman (has anyone even seen him lately?). We haven't had enough rain to slick a frog's back. We’re rapidly approaching the annual “frog hatch” when we are inundated with baby frogs. We have yet to hear a single croak (not a bad thing for us but not good for the froggies).  We're not sure what will happen if the ground isn't soft enough for them  to hatch. But, we still have hope that El Niño/La Niña/La Bamba will decide to drench our thirsty rancho with our share of agua viva. In fact, we are expecting rain (or at least, our version of rain) in a few days. So far, it’s only a 50% chance which translates to, “don’t set out your buckets just now”.  We don’t cotton to dust in February so our hopes are high. Anyway, thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo happy huevos industrial complex. 

Not long ago, but longer that than the other day, we came into a treasure trove of cherries (I'd say 30lbs is a treasure trove, eh?)! Well, Connie the Baker woman had an apron, a pan, and a hot oven waiting, don'tcha know. She whomped up some pie crust and got with the program and produced this beautiful cherry cobbler quicker than a cat could wink it's eye! Needless to say, the cobbler wasn't given time to get stale. 

Wanna see my "Swedes"?! "Swedes" are great big turnips that have a beautiful golden flesh and that, when boiled and then whipped up, have a mild cabbage flavor. I'm appalled that I haven't been introduced to them up until now! The Ol' Rancher loves cabbage (especially when it is accompanied by a chunk of corned beef!) and just about any version/recipe will  please my palate. So, imagine what happened when these mashed up babies were hit with a healthy knob of real butter and a dash of salt?! Man! My taste buds leapt over a wall! These ugly-but-delicious root veggies will not be forgotten!

Here's a blast from the past. This is Princess Abbie from the blog  in Oct. 2015. It's difficult to believe that she's more than 10 years old! The blurb goes like this: 

Why......yes, in fact...I am talking to you! Dearest furry, loving, perky, bright, adorable, Princess Abbie....we understand that you are bored. We know that you love to play fetch and tug o'war .....aaaaaall daaaaay long (when you're not protecting the ground from being sunburned). But, we are unable to accommodate those pastimes for now. It's just part of the hazards of living with energy-limited old folks. 

This is also from 2015. It the "Hen House Hilton" under construction. The blub reads: 

"Ain't she a beaut?! We figure that it will take until about the year 2525 (if man is still alive) to sell enough eggs to break even on this gig"

This picture was taken in 2012. It is of the Sahara Desert taken from an Airbus 320 enroute from Schipol Airport,  Amsterdam to Accra, Ghana, West Africa. Words really can't describe just how desolate this place is. The blue in the back is the Mediterreranean Sea as we passed over the Algerian coastline. The blurb reads: 

"The Sahara Desert is a mind boggling wilderness. It seemed as though our flight over this place would never end. It is obvious that at some time in the past it was filled with rivers. Perhaps the "gold of Ophir" mentioned in the Bible was mined here"

This is a shot from 2020 not long after I picked up my Part 107 FAA "Small Aircraft Systems" (aka "drones") certification. The drone is still here and the drone pilot is still learning how to use it. It would probably help if he took it out of it's case, once in awhile, eh?

Tip O’ the Day

Tent camping is only fun for so long.

And now, a word from our sponsor: 

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by “Bobby Busby’s Blooferated Bladdy Blubbers”. Now, these are the best “Blooferated Bladdy Blubbers” that money can buy! You cannot...I say...you cannot get better “Blooferated Bladdy Blubbers” anywheres! And, folks, they're made right here in the good ol’ US of A. You can get your bountiful supply of “Bobby Busby’s Blooferated Bladdy Blubbers” at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Quick Mart, Rapid Mart, Save Mart,  and all those marts where those guys have them towels wrapped around their heads. Tell'em the Ol' Rancher sent you. You'll be glad you did!

Holy hot Polish golumpki, Batman! It's February!! Where, or where, has the time gone? It's only 317 days until Christmas! You may want to stock up on some wrapping paper while it's still on closeout pricing! 

Chickening or What’s happening in the fluffy butt hut and the egg wrap up report: 

Our bird herd is still thriving and healthy. There are 40 of them but they eat as much as 40 pigs. We try to oblige them with all of the delicacies we can but they seem to have stomachs that are larger than their bodies. I think that there's something supernatural about it. We can never appease or satiate their hunger. Even when they are well fed, they'd take on Hulk Hogan for his Subway sandwich! 

Our pretty birdie pullets are now growing into their calling of producing wholesome fresh eggs. For some reason, it seems like they aren't maturing as fast as it was thought that they would. We've seen a few "practice" eggs but it appears that we are now starting to laying some "real" ones. If they keep getting fed, the bet is that they will finally get the hint and we'll have a coop full of eggs each day. 

Harvey Henbanger II and I have become pals. He was pretty testy there for awhile when he overthrew the previous ruler in a violent coup in the coop. Upon crowning himself, he became the great protector of the entire coop and, if it didn’t have feathers, it was “dead meat”. Thankfully, I’m a tad smarter than a chicken (well…most of the time, anyway). I just took my time to build a relationship with him while letting him know that I respected his turf. If I’m in a hurry and forget the rules, and he thinks he's being disrespected, he reverts to Chickensquatch and lets me know who the boss hoss of the biddy barn, is. Love that big guy!

 Eggs are now 10 dollars per dozen in these parts! Yikes!! The Ol’ Rancher recalls when eggs were 5 cents or less per egg! Early boomers remember things like that, don’tcha know.  In fact, in ’68, I recall the breakfast special at one restaurant was 88 cents! Add a 10 cents for a cup of coffee and you had breakfast for under a buck!  Those were the days!

Nevertheless, after pondering the matter a bit, it was concluded that, when you account for inflation and such, today’s prices are quite a bit less impactful on our (old) gray matter and fewer brain cells are singed. 

The year I was born (1949), eggs were 70 cents per dozen. That relates to at least 7 bucks per dozen in today's currency (close enough since CNN isn't checking with me for any accurate information). In 1969, eggs were 62 cents per dozen or about 5 dollars per dozen today. The price had gone down but down even further when you consider inflation at that time. A half-gallon of milk was about 63 cents in ‘69. A half-gallon of milk in ’49 was 42 cents. When you account for inflation, you can get a gallon of milk for about half the same relative price (largely due to artificial price control on milk and milk products). So, the cost for milk has gone down by more than 50%. I can easily recall buying milk in 1970 for one dollar per gallon at a local mart. That's about 8 dollars in today's coin. 

In ’69, a 10lb sack of spuds was about 82 cents. That’s about 6 bucks in today’s money. Today, I can buy 10lbs of taters for 2.99 just about any grocery store in town. That’s a “savings” of 60% or so. In any case here at the rancho, though it’s a lot of work and expense, having a bountiful supply of home-grown eggs is such a deal!.

Doggie update: 

Fuzz doggie dog is recovering and back to normal now. He had been hit by a car a few weeks ago. That slowed him down quite a bit but he's romping around as usual now. That's a relief seeing that the neighbors have lost at least 4 dogs that I can think of. He's his bouncy self again and that's an answer to prayer! 

Weather report: 

Well....we're all wishin’ and a’hopin’, hopin’ and a’prayin’ (thank you, Dusty Springfield - 1964) that it would be a regular/normal rainy season. We had a few splatters of moisture (aka "mad rain") and a couple of days where it actually rained enough to measure. Connie the Canner was advised that I needed to wash the car and she needed to hang her wash on the clothesline. Then, we needed to make sure that all of our tarped or covered items were uncovered so that it appeared that we were totally unprepared for rain. I'm convinced that we would soon have thunder squalls within a few hours and get 2 inches of rain, snow, sleet, and hail. So far, we just have a dirty van. 

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.