Sad Day At The Ranch

Some times it’s difficult to avoid how reality can screw up a really fine day. I had intended to post a jovial and jocular update complete with a few pictures of Lovey Dovey and such (she’s back for a third go-around). It’s not happening this time.

 Most of you know that my brother, Steve, passed away Wednesday, July 3^rd. He had been seriously ill for years but is now at rest. Now, it’s a complete course change for my mother who, at age 85, will want to move to a smaller home with far less upkeep to worry about.

 May I blather for a bit? Thanks. I don’t often do that but just need to stroll down memory lane for a few minutes. I remember when my folks brought Steve home from the hospital like it was yesterday. He was born on December 6^th, 1953 so I suspect that they turned my mother loose with the new package three days later (which, as I recall, was about the norm for back in the old days). I see the house where we lived at the time (it was torn down to make room for a new one about 15 years or so ago). I see the small bedroom/living room and the small kitchen and even remember the landlord's name. The day was a dingy gray winter one typical of this area.

I was crowding my 5^th birthday so I suppose I was old enough to remember a few things. I recall a few dydees and such and, of all things, a breast pump. Reckon I thought it was some sort of a horn or something.

 Steve was a good kid and a reasonable baby brother. I didn’t get much guff from him since I was big enough to whack him if he tried anything. Unlike middle brother, David the Knothead, he never did give me any grief. He was just always a pleasant young boy who seemed to mind his P’s and Q’s.

 Dave, well….there’s another story altogether. Dave seemed to track down trouble with a magnifying glass and a pickaxe. He was as much a numbskull as he was troublesome. He gave me some grief one time when he was about 9 years old. He just wouldn’t give it up and hassled me until I just bopped him one. We were good buds for a long time after that.

 Then, his diagnosis of “numbskull” progressed to “brain dead”. If you know anything at all about medicine and life, you know that it takes a lot of determination to advance from one stage to another like that. “Determined Dave” would have been another good name to call him as it surely fit him like a glove.

 When he was about 16 years old, he chose me off one day. Now…..I was a pretty easy going fellow even back in my days of proving how big of a dork I could be. But, I didn’t take to being challenged like that. He swung at me with predictable results…..I bopped him a good one. It wasn't in my heart to hurt the kid since I was taller, bigger, and had about a 4” reach advantage on him and very easily could have just mopped the dance hall floor with him. I just wanted to get his attention and did. He didn’t feel like making up this time. He was a practiced thug and thought he was tough and getting his butt handed to him wasn't going to change him or his mind any time soon. In fact, he died a thug. So, we didn’t get along much at all after that. Must have pranged his pride or something. He came to stay with us for a few months in Rockford in the early '70's. He was still set on being an idiot so we had to have him leave. I was working for the city and didn't need my drug-using drug-dealing brother around to mess up my life.

 In '77, he attacked me in Fresno one evening when he came over to visit. Long story short: he jumped a coffee table and began to pummel me. I tried to stand but the couch slipped out from under me. I fell over…backwards and upside down…..behind the couch. He jumped me and started beating me up. I can't speak for anyone else but I don’t take to pummeling very well and took exception to his aggression. All that was necessary to end the losing streak was to regain my footing. When I did, I merely strapped a front choke hold on the kid and brought him to his knees. Funny to think that I just couldn’t hurt the boy and found no reason to do anything but control him and keep him still. In fact, I didn’t even strike him a single time though I could easily have made him eligible for a long stay in the hospital within a few seconds. As crazy as it sounds, I wasn’t even mad at him and took no offense in the fact that I took 16 stitches as the “loser” of the bout.

 A few months later, at 3AM, he grabbed my dad’s pistol and was going to kill us all. I had to wrestle him down and disarm him. The pistol discharged in the bedroom where my 3 kids were sleeping (long story) but I was able to overpower him and pull the cylinder pin. I still have the scar in the middle of my left hand that was inscribed by the iron sight (you lock the cylinder with your hand and place the web of your thumb and forefinger between the hammer and the firing pin). Wanna know something interesting? I was on the 9th day of a fast yet had more than enough strength to handle the exigency.

Guess I pumped more memories from the “thought well” than I anticipated. Funny how we humans work.

 Moving along.....when I left for Rockford, IL late in ’69, Steve was still a mid-teener boy growing up. I didn’t spend much time with him prior to the move since who would want their baby brother following them around, eh? By the time I returned to CA in ’74, Steve was a grown man with his own life to tend to and I just didn’t get to see much of him. I ran into him once in awhile up in Fresno when I lived there but he had moved to Turlock with his new wife and both of us were working full time (I was working 100 hours minimum per week at the time).

 He moved, I moved, I moved back, he moved back but a different town again, and he finally moved to P’ville after he and his second wife split while living in Grand Junction, CO. I had moved back to P’ville from Longview, WA shortly before that. Then, a few years later, we both were divorced and both were living at my mother’s place. It worked for everyone since she had plenty of protection from a couple of big boys (Steve’s 6’3” and I’m 6’2”) and a large house that the boys took care of.

 For reasons that I still don’t totally understand, Steve simply wasn’t familial. I don’t know what that was about. He was not at all interested in being a brother or anything else. Granted, we didn’t have a lot in common but….hey…..he could have invited me to go fishing with him in his boat.

 Holidays, for all intents and purposes, didn't exist with him. He didn’t attend family functions (few as there were) and didn’t attend the local music functions (though they were plentiful). I can sort of understand that since he had been a talented musician until he cut the fingers off of his left hand and could no longer play. In fact, he was a better bass guitar player than I am and I had a head start on him! But, you can’t just hole up and work on the world’s best moon tan and expect success.

 I don’t know…..I just don’t get it. I still don’t know my brother and still didn’t have much of a connection with him. There was just no way to get inside his corral…..just no avenues of communication available. I would have loved to have my brother back but it didn’t happen.

 I had him back for a short time, come to think about it. He had spent a couple of weeks in the hoosegow (an English version of a Spanish word. For years I thought it was ……Chinese!) for being a bad boy (he finally outgrew that). His time in "school" humbled him and was part of the family for awhile. The humility quickly wore off and he was back to being a disinterested sourpuss and curmudgeon in training.  His world never changed.

 Well….I suppose I’ve gotten that off my chest. Thanks for listening. I still wish that I could have said, “Good-bye” and let him know that I cared.

 It’s HOT here in the Valley. No big surprise there. We’ve racked up some blazing days in times past so we feel normal even at the 103 degree mark. We don’t like it….but we do accept the reality of the matter and add another ice cube to the fire and stay in front of a fan.

 That hot part isn’t the hard part; the hard part is the drought. We have plenty of water but the politicians and Enviro-Nazi’s refuse to pump water down from the Sacramento Delta to this area because…..are you ready for this?..........some of their precious Delta Smelt …..FISH …..will die (it’s supposedly on the endangered list)!! Now……watch the math on this: they could easily just set up a fish hatchery and breed millions of their stupid smelt….millions of them!! It wouldn’t cost all that much!! Instead….they’re withholding water from much of the Valley and it will cost BILLIONS of dollars and food prices are going to skyrocket!! It’s that simple!! Since it is that simple, then obviously, the drought is natural but the “water shortage” is man-made. It’s engineered and it’s so obvious as to be sickening. To hold us hostage because of a fish is nothing short of evil.

 Kalifornia now has so many tree huggers, fish huggers, homo-huggers, and insanity huggers (they love their nuts) that sane people (and their businesses) are leaving the state in droves. That would be people like dear friends of ours who are moving to Florence, OR and who had to call a moving company. Can you imagine their shock when they were advised that the move would take much longer than they thought because the moving company was struggling to catch up with demand?  

To make matters worse and to help destroy the trucking industry, the Dems now have a new law requiring older trucks to have emission control similar to that found on personal autos. Since the new equipment will cost about.....GULP.....$35,000 per tractor/truck, most guys are throwing in the towel and retiring or changing professions. Apparently, a large number of these trucks are part of the moving industry and the new laws are making a mess of things and killing a large part of the industry. This, just as engineered, is leaving ...another shortage and a huge .....rise in prices.....right when we don't need them (the shortages are stacking up...a real "ko-inky-dink", right?). Few states are as hostile to business as California. But, that's how socialists (anti-capitalist and therefore anti-business) deal with things. 

So many people are flooding out of the state that it’s frightening and has spurred the state legislature into considering some sort of “action”. What “action” am I talking about? Get this….they’re actually talking about a “moving penalty” (of course, it’s not a “tax”…uh-huh) to penalize business and people for leaving!! 

What’s their thinking? It's basically, “They are leaving to avoid….’paying their fair share’ (their openly published wording)…..so we will fine them for leaving”. 

California, it has been predicted by the those gentle folks, the demographers, will be Caucasian-free in fewer than 50 years. That will leave the state to those "southerners" who are dependent upon the government for everything and all will be well in the new socialist police state (my, my. Another coincidence). Those meddling white folks (you know; those who expect the government to obey the law and to protect them as is their oath of office) will be gone and there will be peace in the land. All of California will be a new "Tijuana by the Bay" (my....I can't wait).

These are, of course, Democrats, making all these rules and engineering our course to oblivion. The Republicans have had little power in the state for a long long time. It's not unlike Detroit or Chicago: you can't blame Republicans for anything since there aren't any. What few we have show up and keep their seats warm but are as about as noticed as a lesbian in downtown LA.  

Even Arnie wasn’t a real Republican (can you spell, "RINO"?). The fact that he was married to Maria “Shrew Girl” Shriver should have enlightened even the dimmest bulb. You would have thought that having to buy her a new broom every year to ride into town would have prompted him to dump her for a real wife.

Arnie was a “Fiscal Conservative” (and not a really good one, at that); after that, he was purely Democrat. He openly stated his views on politics and none of it was concurrent with conservatives or Republicans (which is exactly why he got elected in a state afloat with Marxists). Not being from this country, he told us to our faces that he found no reasoning or way that would lead him to save California from the tsunami of illegal aliens and did nothing to save us from utter defeat. Thanks, Governator, but I don't like stiff cheese.

 Can you imagine: trying to legislate people’s movements and strong arming them for changing locations?! That’s how the Communists in Russia and China do things!! That’s so far from Constitutional that even the very thought of such a thing should earn you a few days in jail! Yet…that’s the norm from the White House down to the local level. 

In that same true Marxist fashion, Obama is, yet again, circumventing "we the people" and "taking care" of the immigration reform matter by executive order and bypassing Congress altogether. We the people have spoken....we don't want his immigration reform which will allow ten million illegals to be here legally and givie them full access to our country (including voting so that the Democrats will never again lose an election) and the equivalent of full citizenship without having to be naturalized!!!!

 Long-time Torrance, CA business, Toyota USA, is moving to Texas where sanity is closer to being normal.  They’re taking their tax dollars and jobs with them. No one is filling their shoes so far, either. Sheese….this rant is starting to sound like I should have posted it on “Randy’s Rant Roost”. I used to post my stuff there but have left it unattended for too long.

 Speaking of Torrance, We had the grandkiddies up for a few days. That was nice. It’s not often that we have 5 youngins overlowing the house. They had a blast! I taught the two eldest kids to drive my Ford 8N tractor. The eldest boy, 11, is a natural at just about anything he does. His sister, almost 10, is the same. She’s absolutely fearless when it comes to doing new things. She will not allow her big brother to overshadow here in the slightest!! Being fearless is also the best way to stay alive on a tractor. She owned that tractor and broke it like a bronco.

 I wanted them to drive the lawn tractor too but it recently suffered a mechanical issue with its starter. I just ordered another one online. By checking around a bit, I was able to save more than 50% on the price (and that including shipping!). One of these days, we’ll hook up the boat and take them all boating and fishing.

 We’ve had the boat for a couple of years now and haven’t even gotten it wet. I don’t recall what it costs to register the boat but it isn’t all that much. A fishing license, on the other hand, is dreadfully expensive! If you include a “second rod” endorsement/ticket, the cost for two licenses is 126.00! That’s ugly. Crazy!

 Add to that the fact that we have more than 100 rods and reels and tons of tackle and you have to scratch your head in wonderment as to what Ol’ Ran is thinking. In fact, I’m scratching my head in wonderment as well! I just picked up another 4 beautiful rods and reels that have hardly been use and they’re the nice expensive ones too! How could I pass up almost 100 dollars worth of fishing gear for ten bucks?

 The “tons” of tackle is hardly an exaggeration. I’ve purchased much tackle online. However, the real deals come from yard sales. At one particular yard sale, there were two tackle boxes loaded with good stuff. Next to it was a coffee can full of extraneous lures, hooks, swivels, and the like. The guy wanted 25 dollars each for the boxes and whatever for the coffee can. I asked him if he would take 40 bucks for both boxes and, after a bit of hemming and hawing, he said, “Yes”. Then I asked if he would toss in the can full of stuff and he said, “Yes”. He couldn’t believe that he said, “Yes” to both proposals and was shaking his head as to why he took the deal! But, he took the money and I took the tackle.

 At one sale, I saw a milk pail full of reels. There were ten level winds, and three closed face reels. All had mud on them but Ol’ Ran knows that a bit of soapy water will take that right off. The reels were the “real deal” and included Abu Garcia Ambassadors, a Shakespeare, a Diawa, and even Shimanos! I asked the nice lady how much she wanted for the entire bucket full of stuff. She mentioned that she really needed to get rid of those things and said, “How about a dollar for the lot of them?”. I almost broke a finger getting to my wallet! She threw in the pail, too!

 For now, we’re storing the rods and reels in the rafters upstairs in the barn. There seems to be sufficient space up there to do that. Otherwise, they are certainly in the way. I’ve overhauled a few of them and have them ready to go fishing ……some day.

 One problem is that, due to the drought, there’s no water in the river. The Tule is at “zero flow” again this year and things are not looking good at all for the trout. I like baked trout but not when the cooking is done on the river rocks and the sun is providing the heat! We'll go fishing in the lake since it's only a few miles from here.

Speaking of “heat”, it’s supposed to be up to 106 in a few days. So far, we’ve managed to get by in the 80’s and 90’s and even some of that had a bit of breeze added to it. That meant that we’ve only had to use “Ol’ Swampy” the evaporative cooler and not the watt-guzzling A/C units. We’re OK with the swamp cooler until the temp hits 100 or so. Things get ugly really quickly then and we turn on the A/C. I refuse to melt when I have options.

 Anyway…..that’s what’s happening at Rancho Relaxo. Thanks for everyone’s thoughts and prayers. More when I can.

Rancho Revivo

Well! Look who's back!! Lovey Dovey hijacked one of Connie's pansy baskets in which to begin her next efforts to insure that Rancho Relaxo has no shortage of doves. Bless her little feathery heart!

You almost can't see her but she's in the far basket with her head just barely visible.



Here's one of Lovey Dovey's babies. He sat in his nest wondering what happened after his momma and sibling flew the coop. He sat on the wheel barrow (15' from his nest) for about a half hour then, he too, took wing.

From left to right: Pastor Paul Breski and his wife, Sherry, Pastor John Appiah of Ghana Africa, Pastor Henry Aguilar of the Springville First Baptist Church, Sis Connie the Canner, and Pastor Brother Cousin Rancho Ran at the Porterville Free Will Baptist Church. We all like to refer to ourselves as the "Chicken eatin' neck huggin' Baptists".

Well.....I'll BEE! It's Pastor John Appiah and Ol' Brother Ran in their space alien outfits! If you get an outfit you can be a space alien too! John had never seen bee hives or bee suits (or probably better, "sting prevention suits"). He helped check out the bees and saw the wonderful honey in store. We gave him some to take home to his family. He couldn't put the stuff down!

Pastor John (aka "Pappa John" "Pappa" being a social status in Ghana) ministering. He taught Sunday AM (here), and Mon., Tues., and Wednesday evenings. It was our first revival meeting in over a decade. It will not be our last one.

Pastor Roy Bradford of Roseville with Pastor John Appiah.

It has been a busy month here at the Rancho (yeah. I know…that’s real news).  There have been many things experienced and a few things accomplished. But, the highlight has been the honor and privilege of hosting Pastor John Appiah from Ghana Africa in our home for a week.

Pastor John was my host when I went to Ghana. I had met him almost ten years earlier and had finally gotten to go there not quite two years ago. Now, it was time for him to come here and that has been a true blessing, to be sure.

 We picked up Bro. John in Kerman (ten miles west of Fresno) at Pastor Roy Bradford’s father’s home. I had known both he and Roy since about 1993 in Longview, WA. Roy and I had ministered together up there and his dad, Lee, was there from time to time and ministered as well. Kerman is a bit more than half way from Roy’s so that was the closest practical place to “midway” that there was. From there, we came back to Rancho Relaxo so that Bro. John could …(ahem)…relax… for a couple of days prior to ministering in our church. And, minister he did.  

 However, we didn’t come straight home. No, siree. It was lunch time so we headed straight to the “Home Town Buffet” situated at the far north end of the “Manchester Mall” on N. Blackstone Street in Fresno. I mean, just how could we not take our dear brother, John, to lunch at a “Home Town Buffet”?! It would be an understatement to say that we didn’t leave the place hungry.

 A week prior to the revival events, Connie and I had contacted Bro. Henry Aguilar of the Springville First Baptist Church to see if he would interested in having Bro. John speak and minister to his congregation. He was delighted at the prospect and immediately had us invite Bro. John to speak in their Sunday evening service! Then, he even invited us all to their Saturday afternoon picnic at Bartlett Park! Boy! Did we ever take him up on that! Few folks can swing a picnic like the Baptists and we at the Porterville Free Will Baptist Church can attest to that! We were not going to pass that one up! And, after the church service that Sunday evening, Bro. John invited Bro. Henry to Ghana! Would you believe that Bro. Henry had wanted to go to Africa for a long time?! We’re calling that one a “God thing”, to be sure!

Our Sunday morning service was excellent and our folks loved Bro. John and welcomed him like a long lost cousin. It was beautiful. After a super service, we treated him to a great pot-faith lunch at our fellowship hall. Everyone got to chat with and learn about him and his travels. It was grand!

We finished the revival with Bro. John ministering on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday evenings. His ministry was recorded except for Monday evening when the computer program crashed and the recording was not recoverable (can you spell, “GRRRRRR”?). After a nice day off on Thursday (well, mostly), we loaded the Rancho Hoopie on Friday morning and headed to Roseville for that evenings meeting at Bro. Roy’s church.

 Bro. John ministered on both Friday and Saturday nights. I was then privileged to speak on Sunday morning and then Bro. John spoke again on Sunday evening. After Sunday morning's service, we had “hugs all around” and blessed one another then Connie and I departed for the Rancho.

 Roy and Bro. John will continue to minister on the streets of Roseville and in church for another week until time for Bro. John to head back east again. Bro. Roy and his wife, Liz, are planning a trip to Ghana in September to minister with Bro. John and his people. Perhaps we can remember them all in prayer that the fullness of the will of the Lord be done in all things.

 Are we sad that our African brother is gone? You bet we are. Bro. John is a servant of the Lord, a man who waits on the Lord and is led by His Spirit. He was a blessing the entire time he was here. I have met few men like him and it is a rare privilege to get to know him and receive of his ministry to America and to his brethren here. Yet, we are rejoicing that the Lord is prospering him and opening effectual doors of ministry in every place. The Lord willing, Connie and I will, in due season, take up the invitation to go to Ghana together to minister there. We didn’t have peace about her going the first time but it may be that she can go this next time. We will wait upon the Lord as happened the previous trip (I waited 7 years).

 On the trip home, we had to drive through Fresno. It just so happens that one of our favorite supermarkets is on West Herndon not far east of Highway 99. That would be the “WinCo” market and we did take awhile to knock that place over. Unlike the last time around we still had daylight and it wasn’t nearly closing time. Previously, the two travelers were already tired but after shopping that late, we were almost immobilized.

Actually, we made out fairly well this time and only hauled off a few things. The previous time, a few months ago, we could have used “Wooly Pully”, the little 5’ x 8’ trailer. We stuffed things into every nook and cranny of the Hoopie like she was a well laden buckboard wagon. This time I majored on getting coffee that I just can’t find anywhere else (or that I’ve already tried everywhere else). It was a real treat! They have a “WinCo” in Longview, WA and that’s where we first encountered them. Put “WinCo” on your list of “must go” places. You’ll be glad you did, neighbor.

Guess who’s back? Lovey Dovey! Only about a week after her babies fully fledged and flew the coop, she parked her feathery body on the same nest by the back door! We had wondered if doves had more than one brooding time per year and it looks like that they do! For some reason, after only two days, she found the previous nest uncomfortable or what all so she switched from the back porch to the front porch. She set up camp in one of Connie’s hanging flower baskets and called it a day. We can hardly wait to see the little fuzzy babies sticking their heads with their punk hairdos out from under their momma! It’s not likely that Connie will be able to water her pansy pot while the birdie is there so she will sacrifice the flower for the cause.

Connie’s long time friend, Aubrey Cassidy, and his wife, Sandy, came to visit from Florida! They come to the west coast from time to time to see friends and relatives on the way. She met Aubrey while he was in the Navy and she was working at the Naval Exchange in San Pedro back in the late ‘60’s. Her brothers are all friends with them as well so they stopped in Kingsbury, TX to see Roger too. We made a point to knock over the “El Tapatio” restaurant here in Springville for lunch while they were here.

We are in the throes of a drought here in the land of fruit, nuts, and flakes. It’s pretty severe and will likely cost the entire nation since Californy is the breadbasket and milk producing kings of the country (and you thought it was Wisconsin that was the milk and cheese capital. I don't recommended that you apply for a spot on Jeopardy). The Ol’ Ranch is looking pretty brown and it’s not even summer yet! Guess Ol’ Farmer Ran will have to put on his rubber boots and grab the hoses and sprinklers again.

My day already starts around 6 AM or so (I prefer the “or so” part and can get away with it once in awhile). But, it appears that I’ll need to change my clock to 5 AM so that I can at least get a start on drowning our drought. At least we do have irrigation water….for now.

Stay tuned for the next episode from Ol’ Rusty Ran and his sidecook, Dusty Connie and their adventures here at the Dust Bowl Ranch. There’ll probably be some canning going on.   

Rancho Springo

Meet "Lovey Dovey". She's our new neighbor and hopes to raise her young here.

To the right is "Maggie the Wonder Dog" doing what she usually does....watching the world go by an inch at a time. Notice the raised hackles, ferocious stance, and glistening fangs all set to defend her turf. Between her and the Lord, we feel pretty safe.

To the far left is garden box #1 then #2. #3 is barely visible to the right and #4 is in the rear. Box #2 is also bearing a thriving crop of Bermuda grass. Guess what will be happening on our next day off? Did you know that some of those grass plants have roots 12" long?!

A little better shot of box #4. We just reloaded with 6 bags of fresh compost.

This is actually the neighbor's pomegranate tree but he does all he can to ignore it.....so do we.

This is the #3 box but looking from the other direction toward the back of the house. It is filled to brim with strawberries. Yes...they do taste wunnerful, wunnerful, wunnerful. That's a small apple tree standing guard. Notice how it leans into the job thereby showing great interest in its charge.

Box #1 with its newly planted tomatoes. Connie has since planted many more tomatoes. A friend just gave us a bunch of his "volunteers" from last year's crop and he had no room for them. We have them. Look out, canning jars!

These are the peas in box #2. Connie is pea'ing all over the place. There are more to come so we'll have a continuing harvest for awhile. It won't get cold here until mid-December so stuff grows on and on. We had tomatoes growing almost until Christmas last year.

Can you spell C-O-M-P-O-S-T ? We're trying to do our best to feed our dirt so that it's not just dirt or just compost; it's SPAYSHAL dirt and compost. Uh-huh. This batch was from Lowe's.

Our bees be happy. This is the "Leaning Tower of Beeza" in case all you unlearned individuals didn't know. They are all happy and healthy that we can tell and the ant issue has been permanently resolved. We placed the legs of our pallet/stand in coffee cans half filled with water and oil. Works every time. I haven't checked for honey yet but since the bloom has been decent, my guess is that we will make out like Pooh Bear this year.

The pole barn with "Heffalump" the big white trailer in the foreground. The aluminum fishing boat, El Rafto, is next, and the "Ranch Rino" is after that. The last stall is supposed to be for the little trailer but there's just too much STUFF blocking the way. I'll have to get a man right on that. Looking south towards the back of the barn.

Here's the ex-burn pile. You can see how it did a really professional job of blocking the sunlight and protecting the dirt from getting any vitamin A or other nutrients. A few passes with the scraper and the stage will be set for a healthy patch of dirt. The oranges in the rear don't look too badly after having been abused for awhile. I need to get a man right on that issue too.

Aqui....Senora del Rancho Relaxo. She was covered from scarf to sandals in garden materials so I was tempted to call her "Dirty Connie". I thought better of it.

The "Jack" of the shack: an ICOM IC-R7000 VHF/UHF receiver. It's a beaut. It awaits but the erecting of the antenna, a spot in the shack, and someone to read the manual to program it. The position of "King of the Ham shack" is reserved for the soon-coming Ham radio HF transceiver.

Even our carport anchors are blooming! Ain't it great! Leave it to "flower child", Connie!

Just "peachy"!

The wishing well near the front driveway.

It's a good thing that our house isn't for sale. The walk up would sell it in a heartbeat! We got flowers!

 

Well….spring has sprung and it’s mucho greeno around here (at least for awhile). It’s actually pretty in these parts in the spring. Those folks who move to Springville (named after an artesian well and not the season) from other parts of the country in the spring realize in a few weeks that they are on another planet when the sun comes to town. We have to take pictures and glue the memory of verdant hills to our noggins because this glory will fade only too quickly. If we had no such hope for a new spring next year, we would all move to someplace better like Oklahoma or the Serengeti.

 This is also to say that we’re in the middle of a drought. It’s not the only drought that Kalifornia has experienced. But, it is one of the worst ones. Our rainfall for the season is the 7^th driest on record. What rain that did fall was so meager that we had to stand out in it for an hour to get wet (well….maybe not that long but it seemed like it).

Despite the hardships, we do have “critters” here. A glance around the place shows the place crawling with coyotes, bunnies, worthless yard-mining pocket gophers, frogs, snakes, an occasional bear, deer, goats, cattle, dogs, cats, bees, ants, and worthless, stinking, hole-digging, garden destroying, plum eating, pestilent, lousy, furry, ground squirrels. We call these vermin, Rancho Fuzzers. They make for great target practice but you can’t eat the buggers. They are making our property look like a molybdenum mining operation. I’m looking for some C4 and caps to help with the matter.

 These bugs and buggers are so prosperous that I can’t help but think they’re all on food stamps. In Kalifornia, the food stamp program is simple: if you can show up, you can load up. And…..you don’t even have to speak …..English (which is why the coyotes are grinning when I see them, I suppose).

 Connie has been up to her armpits in compost, plants, and seedling starts. She loves showers so all is well. Also in the ground are her bell peppers, a Mexican province full of tomatoes, and even her peas. "Ol’ Pea’in’ Connie", we call her. Has kind of a nice ring to it, eh? I’m wondering what would happen if she planted leeks so she could…..take a leek. Well…maybe not. I’m wanting to say that I would probably have to buy back some of my body parts from the Gypsies if I got involved with that gig. In any event, there will be no end to the canning of love apples and our salsa supply will be unlimited! Zowie!

The strawberries are already set and prospering. The zucchini should be ready for the dirt shortly as will be a few other items that can be canned or frozen. Nothing like fresh veggies when making a nice hot soup.

 

We have a new “pet” at the ranch. She’s a cute little gray dove! We call her “Lovey Dovey”. She and her mate built a nest right at our back door on the steel shelf rack that we have parked there. There are a couple of items we won’t get to use for the duration since she’s camped on top of them. I’ve got options and back ups though. We haven't seen the male bird in awhile. If she starts collecting food stamps at our address, we'll know what happened.

Of course, we don’t just crash our way out of the back door since it opens up only a few inches from her nest. So, we just slip quietly out and she just sits motionless on her eggs. We know what she’s thinking, though: “Don’t look at me. I’m not here. My camouflage is working well and I’m invisible. You can’t see me…..don’t try to touch these eggs, you big white gorilla! You don’t even want to see me when I’m mad! I’ll rip your head off, peck your eyes out, and then I'll hurt you!!”. 

Spring has seen another improvement: the “burn pile” that we’ve been babysitting for four years is finally gone (never do today what you can put off until next season, I always say). More accurately, it has been me doing the honors since Connie declined to be part of the job. She said that it had something to do with me being more qualified at trash tending or words to that effect. Did she just call me “trashy”?

A friend and neighbor of ours hired a gent to haul off some stuff and recommended him to us. He has a pick-me-up truck with side boards and a trailer so we hired him to remove the pile to help alleviate our suffering (and I wasn’t getting paid to baby sit piles of anything). It worked out a lot better having him do it, I should think. I was almost dreading the fiery blaze and huge column of smoke and seeing me with my hose flailing about trying to douse the mess with a 5/8” garden hose. It was easy to envision a nearby oak tree turning into a flaming signal flare for the fire department to come and haul me off to the rubber room.

At dear Connie’s behest, I converted the second story family room back into a second story family room. It had been an overflow area for the computer shop and had been overtaken with…growth. Hey, you’d be surprised to know just how fast computers and eBay items can multiply! Anyway, the area is livable now which is a good thing since Pastor John Appiah from Ghana Africa is going to be staying with us for a week or so in May. He’ll have the huge bedroom up stairs in which to camp and won't have to stumble over a bunch of computers, parts, and pieces.

Little by little the office/radio shack/fishing tackle depot in the barn is starting to look less and less like a wrecking yard and more and more like a usable space. The warming of days is now seeing a laptop in place on the big office desk and it is replete with a nice three- piece set of powerful speakers. A printer is staged for installation. Nearby and nearly ready are the VHF/UHF monitors/scanners and the short wave radio equipment.

My big 25 amp and smaller 5 amp power supplies are ready for use. Just need to coordinate the equipment. I may just run a mobile CB unit from the smaller one and hook it to a mobile antenna for now.

The short wave gear consists of a Kenwood R600, an old Realistic DX-440 receiver (it works great even though it’s 25 years old!), a sweet Tecnam PL-660 portable multi-band S/W rig, and a 15 year old Realistic DX-380 multi-band S/W AM/FM receiver (it's small but quite a performer). I use a couple of powered S/W RF amplifiers to feed these guys. I would like to set up a big high performance general coverage receiver some day soon and string a nice long-wire antenna to it. After that will be the Ham and CB radio station. If I can mount my discone (sic) antenna, I’ll haul out my big Kenwood IC-R7000 VHF/UHF receiver. That big baby is something else! The place ought to look like a space station any day now but Connie was wondering if that was a good thing. I just told her I didn’t know. It’s probably a cry for help.  

Ideas abound for antennas but mounting them is not going to be an easy task. My G5RV dipole will need to be strung between the gable of the house to the gable of the barn. That may not be viable since the coax cable will be hanging down half way and will be in the way. A nice trapped vertical antenna gable-mounted on the barn is a good idea but that may not happen due to the barn architecture. The gambrel roof is probably too steep to mount antennas on and it isn’t flat at all on top.  I may have to erect a tower alongside the barn and shove a beam antenna way up high. From there, I can string other antennas. A ground-mounted vertical is a possibility but, there again, the logistics are limiting the matter. We’ll see. It’s amazing; we have two acres to work with and no room for an antenna farm. *SIGH*. What is a communicator dude to do?

A client recently upgraded his computer system and threw all of his “old” stuff at me (I had sense enough not to duck). It included a really really nice three piece set of speakers (now in the radio shack) and I was perplexed as to why he would part with them. I’m blessed so I didn’t argue with the nice man. He also tossed a large and expensive flat screen monitor my way too! Expensive large screen monitors are my friends!

This big baby is a square one and was replaced by a new 16 x 9 format screen. However, the big square ones are required when someone is using a graphics program and need to keep the proportions correct (the 16 x 9 format doesn’t always do that and things may get skewed a bit). I have a big 19” square Sony similar to it and a few of the smaller ones so I’m good to go with graphics and such.

The Ranch Rino is getting a new battery soon. Ol’ Rancho Ran forgot to ready it for the winter and it croaked (silly me). After that, it will need a bit of work on the exhaust manifold so that the neighbors in Springville, Porterville, Strathmore, Lindsay, Exeter, Farmersville, and Visalia won’t be complaining of the noise. The plan is to use the drag scraper to level off the area where the burn pile was and cover up the ground squirrel burrows. Have I said how much I hate ground squirrels?

Connie has the place flowing with flowers. She’s quite the …um….flower girl, don’tcha know (I could be cruisin’ for a bruisin’). It’s so flowery that it’s a bee’s paradise! In fact, our bees are happier than ducks in a new pond! She’s going to make sure that the Ranch is pretty but also so our bees won’t forsake us in favor of better digs. That also means that we won’t run out of that marvelous Rancho Honey any time soon.

Our front porch and railing area are lined with flower pots bursting with colorful flowers and the anchor bowls for our car port are filled with happy pansies. She has other kinds of bloomers but it would be difficult to recount them for now (read: “Brother Ran wasn’t paying attention so he doesn’t know”).

One of our yearly jaunts in spring is to head up the road a piece (but not a fur piece) and take the Yokhol Valley Road from 6 miles north of Springville into Exeter (30 miles from Springville). The route is most scenic as it meanders through the foothills. But, it’s much more so during the springtime when the wildflowers blanket the hills almost like snow. Most are white or gold but the purple lupines decorate the roadside with much zeal.

Usually, we take a zillion pictures of the beauty and glory (OK! OK! Maybe not quite that many…but not by much). This year we may not go because of the drought. Most likely there will be a lot of flowers but it would be difficult to imagine there being the glorious splendor of previous years. Who knows….we may take the back road to town before too long or the glory will be gone altogether. This place is just plain ol’ Melba Toast dry by May. It was 91 degrees today!

Stay tuned. More to come from El Rancho Relaxo De Tortuga, a designated “Sweat Free” zone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rancho Relaxo Celebremos

“Relax pal!" Well…that’s what they told me to do  after this rather untimely hijacking of my work schedule. So, being the good little boy that I am (can I get a big “Amen!” on that one? I didn’t think so), I settled in for the long run of recouping my strength and letting my heart heal itself and such. Rancho Relaxo is exactly what it will have to be.... at least for awhile. But, there is celebrating to do to. I’m still here. I keep telling everyone, "Don't come to the funeral on Tuesday. I won't be there!".

 This is a “first” for me but, on the whole, I’d rather have been in Philadelphia. At 3 AM on Saturday March 22, I was suddenly and deliberately attacked by a mis-parked car. That is to say, it felt like someone parked their ’49 Buick Roadmaster on my chest.  Now, I happen to like Buick Roadmasters. However, I really don’t like sharing my space with one of them and felt rather slighted when this all went down (though I was spared the oil leak on my T-Shirt). 

 “Angina” is the technical term for it; I can use the term without fear of being accused of being a doctor. I can, however, use the term and be accused of being a paramedic since I did a lot of that in my younger days. That came in handy because the event was immediately diagnosed and immediately unappreciated for its callus disregard for my sleep time.

 That also means that I immediately diagnosed the issue when the angina progressed to an MI. It was the text book presentation of the classic heart attack (you could say I did it “by the book”).

 Now, I don’t really care for hospitals all that much. And, I really don’t like them that early in the morning. The good news is that I had the staff’s full attention. There were no other distractions. Isn’t that swell? It was a good thing that I had forgotten my 15 minutes of shtick or I would likely have ended up on the front page of the local newspaper. Can’t you just see it? “Local businessman entertains ER while having a heart attack”. Then there would be the picture of yours truly lying on a gurney and laden with IV’s and hosting a big smile (boosted by 5 mg of Morphine Sulphate). Another Kodak Moment....shot to blazes.

 As far as I’m concerned, that was the easy part. Next came the encampment part where I became part of the furniture and a sponge for all of the heart drugs ever brewed up by man. It was like dwelling in a hornet’s nest. They stuck so many needles in me I thought I would leak for a week afterwards. My biggest issue wasn’t the heart attack; it was having a massive case of “TUBES” with an adjunct dose of “WIRES”. I looked like I was hiding in the backside of the instrument panel of a 747. My brain was asking, “Can I go home now?”.

 After awhile (not that long actually) they figured that I wasn’t going anywhere and shipped me up to ICU. ICU, of course, is the nickname of the hospital gown (gown being a Greek word meaning “shameless”) that all hospitals use to give each patient unlimited exposure”to the elements. I sort of understand the concept; if you keep everyone naked and continually fighting to keep on a gown that doesn’t fit and will never cover more than a small percentage of one’s body, they will never leave until given permission or until someone sneaks them a moo moo.  

I did notice that, after a couple of days, you tend to loose your awareness of the gown and forget that not all of your body parts are hiding from the Gypsies. That’s not a good thing the best that I can tell and it did leave me wondering if the nurses were smiling a lot more than usual or if they were just naturally friendly folks.  

 After a couple of days of playing the part of “Randy the Pin Cushion Boy”, I was hauled off by ambulance to Kaweah Delta Hospital in nearby Visalia (in California 40 min away is nearby). Once there, they parked me in their surgery center until the angiogram that next day.

 It had been awhile (try almost 35 years) since I had been in an ambulance and, until now, I wasn’t the one on the gurney. One of the medics for the company that hauled me was a “patient care specialist” while the other was just a poor excuse for paramedic. Frankly, he was a disgrace to the profession. His uniform was sloppy and ill-fitting, he behaved like a goon, and walked like an egotistical know-it-all (look at me!) thug. I was embarrassed for the clown. He was entirely disconnected from anything but his paramedic image and his getting to play with the red lights and siren.

Now to the angiogram: they carted me to the cath-lab for a look-see of my stumbling pumper.  They dump a mild sedative and a mild pain killer in so that you don’t attempt a backstroke off the table if you get uncomfortable (and you do). The guy shoves a catheter into your femoral artery and then sticks some wires and a chainsaw into it. He then tinkers around and opens up your blocked artery but in doing so must precipitate a heart attack by….blocking the artery with his grease gun and Dirt Devil vacuum. That was uncomfortable. I really wasn’t looking forward to that chest pain thing again. The discomfort didn’t last all that long so things were better than normal rather quickly. Guess they didn't need the backhoe that was on standby.

 They installed two stents: one was to keep the artery open and the other, I presume, was to hold the other one in place or perhaps the artery was a bit weak and sagging in that area. The other coronary arteries were in great shape. I’ll rejoice in that!

Sometimes you get to go home after they monitor you the remainder of the day and part of the next. I didn’t hit that lottery ticket this time around. I had some sort of way-high enzyme indicator that fibbed about the condition of my heart at that moment. So, I got to take another day off and check out Telemetry Unit for a couple of days. The next day after that, they did pull the wires, hoses, and needles (we don’t need no stinking needles) which allowed me to shower and get ready to go home (Thursday). Sponge baths are OK in a pinch but I really needed to knock the chunks off. I didn't check closely but I wouldn't have been surprised if I had started my own potato ranch while vegging in their fancy electro-whiz bed.

On that bright and shining morning, Connie had my duds all prepared so I climbed into my street clothes and signed my getaway papers. Of course, they have to use a wheelchair for transport so I got an effortless ride to the van.

We really didn't go straight home as there was stuff that needed to be done and a few fresh groceries were called for. So, we grabbed a few things on the way to Rancho Relaxo to make sure that "Joe Unlax" had no lack for things to keep him occupied so he wouldn't get in trouble.

Home…..Maggie the Wonder Dog was so glad to see me she almost beat herself silly with her tail. As you can imagine, it was time to just rest and get reacquainted with the ranch so I did just that. My home is my friend.

The tough part about this event is having to retire my “Superman” costume. Personally, I thought I looked pretty sharp in a cape. But, it appears that I’ll have to leave the chore of saving the world to a……younger man. *SIGH*. Always wanting to be a blessing, Connie said, “No worry, Hon. I’ll sew your cape into an apron and you’ll look great at the BBQ grill”. You always know you married the right woman at a time like this.

I’ll take it easy for a few weeks and then hoist up the sails and get this ship rockin’. Lots to do. Stay tuned and don't touch that dial. Who knows what silly things lie in store at Rancho Relaxo? "Joe Unlax" just may have the answer.

RANCHO SPIFFO

Well…it’s spring time here at the ranch and it’s time to get a bit of hustle and bustle happening. You know, on second thought, maybe we’ll just do a semi-hustle for now. Not a lot of pep in my step at the moment and my bustler may need a tune up and I don’t want to risk breaking anything. In any case, it's time for a "new and improved" Rancho Relaxo.

Part of the springtime improvement is a new pants size for Ol’ Ran. I can hardly believe it. I’m wearing a size 36 slack (well! That only took a decade and a half!). We’re going to be on the lookout for new duds since the old duds won’t fit the old dude.

There’s a lot to do, of course, and astonishing little time in which to get it all done. Not the least of chores is starting our garden for the year. We only have the four above ground boxes but we’re already thinking about hiring a crew of Mexicans to till and plant for us. That probably won’t happen for any number of reasons. But, the main reason is that we forgot to learn to speak Spanish fluently. How convenient.

Actually, we don’t do too awfully bad with español and are in no real danger of starving to death in a Mexican restaurant. Connie took 4 years of Spanish in school while I had to learn a bit of it here and there. All I had to do was….show up in California. It's amazing how much of a foreign language you can learn when it's forced upon you ....in your own country....and there are no choices or options....in a free country. Having worked in the ambulance business for a few years helps some too. Lots of sick Spics out there.

 Anyway….we have a bunch of seeds to choose from too. We made sure of that during the previous couple of years by stockpiling. You’d be surprised to know that seeds go on sale from time to time (like mid-winter) and you can even find a closeout occasionally. Guess you could call us a “seedy” bunch around here.

We have just about everything on hand that one could ask for. There’s corn, green beans, zucchini, yellow neck squash, peas, okra, tomatoes, and what all that I can’t recall. I need some taco seeds so I can get a large crop of tacos. That would surely cut down on my prep time for dinner. All I would need to do is open a can of frijole refritos (refried beans) and dig in.

We’re not entirely sure what crops we intend to coax from the ground this year. The previous season’s strawberries are prospering so we won’t have to replant those. Our Okra Winfrey (Boo! Hiss!) did fairly well but we really didn’t mind it as much as we should have and didn’t reap a lot of it. So, we may not go that direction this time though I truly love fried....in lard or bacon grease.....okra....often....served with ....fried.....potatoes....and cornbread...and beans and bacon/ham hocks. Did I mention that I may keep my size 38 slacks? 

Peas….ah…now those will be planted for sure. Connie digs peas so those are a definite item. I can almost see the flashing of her canning jars now. They’ll match her huge store of green beans from last year. Green beans just don’t get any better than hers!

The lady is a pro at it and you should see her do her stuff! She has a huge pressure cooker into which she can steam about 8 large quart jars at a time! I thought about using that big beaut to whomp up an army-mess-hall-sized batch of ham hocks and beans. But, all I got was the “evil eye”. I’m pretty good at interpreting “eyes” and knew right away that I had overestimated the matter. No go, bro.
 

The grounds need a “haircut” around here or we could lose respectability in the hood. After our brief fling with a few sprinkles of rain, some of the grass decided to grow meaning that the ranch is starting to look about as scraggy as Maggie the Wonder Dog. Our hired hand, Gary, will soon be called upon to tidy up the place with his expert weedeater skills and such. However, he can’t get here for….a week. Next thing you know we’ll be known as Rancho Shaggy-o. *SIGH*.

We did get the ranch van, Ol’ Hoopie, shined up a bit here lately. She had suffered a bit of humiliation a few months ago when she got clobbered by some flying junk. But, now she’s smiling like it’s Christmas. Jose’ and the vatos (danged if that doesn’t sound like a ‘60’s band from Tulare) down at the paint and body chop shop made her look really swell. That and a new set of Pirelli shoes and she’s good to go. The old girl lumbers on without complaint…still talking about the van.

 Shoot……Connie and I even gave her a bath and cleaned the inside too. That was long overdue. Every time she would ask me where something was in the car I’d tell her to look next to the elephant. She’d look me right straight in my pretty brown eyes and say, “Uh…there’s no elephant in here, hon”. I’d look at her askance like she was a tad goofy and say, “Of course there is! It’s right next to the dump truck!”.

 So, we had to finally clean out the elephants and dump trucks so we could maintain some sense of civility. “Green Acres is the place to be. Cluttered living is the life for me”…well….maybe that’s not the way the tune goes. It's been awhile, you know. Connie is slowly and patiently training her hubby towards "un-cluttery" ways but I keep telling her that it’s difficult to teach an old gorilla new tricks.

Wouldn’t you know that I’ve about reached the end of the tread wear on my haircut too. I get lots of mileage out of a good haircut so I’m not to the point to where Maggie and I are twins yet. But, with only a little inattention, that could happen. My bet is that my sweetie Pop Tart wife will just drive me to the shearer’s office soon and save me from being hauled off by the dog catcher. That’ll work since I’m not sure that I want to be shackled to an appellation like, “Pastor Scruffy” or “Brother Fuzzybum”.   

Connie is spiffing up the front porch now that the weather has calmed down a bit. The wind knocked over some of her potted plants (no…I didn’t say “pot plants”, silly) and broke them. She bought one really nice replacement the other day at the “Rescued Treasures” thrift store in Visalia for only a couple of bucks. Sweet.

She has a knack of making the place look super (in spite of my best efforts to make the place look like a sale barn). We are often complemented on our home and how cozy and countrified it is. It is indeed but only because of a lot of talent and hard work by one very special lady who lives here. She has a sharp eye too and can spot a home improvement item in a heartbeat! It is spotted in half the time when it’s on sale or is being sold by our old friend, Clarence Sales.

Another point of “spring improvement” is the replacement of our bees. I guess the rent was too high so they all up and left …..again. Actually, the ants got to them and they left. This is the second time that the ants have driven off a hive. They were fine a couple of weeks ago. But,  within that time the ants forced the bees to swarm. We’re taking measures to insure that it doesn’t happen again. Brother and beekeeper, Dave Kruze ("Uncle Buzz" to his friends and relatives, don'tcha know), is bringing us three more hives to help us maintain our honey supply. Honey is our friend. 

Though our previous flock of bees recently departed, they left their honey (how…sweet…of them, eh?) so Connie processed 34 cups of the abandoned honey. So, there will be no reason for things to go …sour …here for awhile.

That’s the updates from the ranch. Hang around and you too can be spiffy.

 

RANCHO FIXO

I think I have one of life’s mysteries figured out: man has created and engineered all kinds of wonderful gadgets and inventions for one main purpose: to provide jobs for many tradesmen when these fabulous marvels break.

Take for instance my perfectly functioning Dell XPS420 desktop computer that sports a dual-core processor and a terabyte of storage volume capability and 4GB of RAM. “Perfectly functioning”, that is, until it had the proverbial “flat tire” the other day. It presented its hatred for mankind when the motherboard “headed south”. It’s a super-nice machine so I may go ahead and fix the bloody thing. We’ll see but I really don’t have time to deal with it and my main Gateway ‘puter (no slouchy box that can hold its own) is still carrying the load so far anyway. 

Putting a backup computer back online just takes a lot of time….something that I can’t quite seem to find enough of….or energy (ditto). I reckon that it’s one of those “life in the big city” events that should be taken in stride. Maybe ….if….I moved further into the country and farther away from a city….uh…..naw.

Folks often complain to me in utter bewilderment that their computer was functioning great a little while ago but it is now a fully-functioning door stop. I just share with them about the “flat tire” example. Your tire, I explain, was nice and round a few seconds prior to going flat. It’s a real “Ah, hah!” moment and they understand that things that go tick and whir and that are made by man, will break at some point.

 
The silver lining in this cumulonimbus is that a friend of mine needed to part with a “super screamer” custom computer that he had built for himself. It’s not often that a box filled with moving and non-moving parts attracts my attention to whatever degree. I’m just interested in whatever “plow horse” that can get the job done for me.

 Ah…..but this isn’t just any parts box and it did garner my fancy. What can a computer dude’s heart do but go arrhythmic when he is told of a spec sheet that reads like some thing smuggled from the “Millennium Falcon”? We’re talking about some heap big medicine here: an over-clocked AMD Phantom 3.2 ghz Quad-core CPU with ….gulp….16 Giggles of RAM and that has Windows 8.1 stacked in it! Add 1.5 terabytes of hard drive space and a boat load of software (including a built-in remotely controlled TV board and software allowing you to watch any TV program ever produced!) and you have a real “romper stomper” about which you can brag to the other kids on the block! Not many can outrun that little red wagon, to be sure! The thing runs as smooth as buttermilk and does things almost before you can get the thought out of your brain cell.

The GIGABYTE GeForce GT 630 2GB 128-Bit DDR3 PCI Express 2.0 x16 HDCP Ready Video Card can handle anything you can throw at it. I’ll switch to the HDMI capability when I can. But, for now, I’m using a KVM switch to run two computers from one monitor and it’s strictly a VGA device. My nice 21” monitor can handle HDMI so I will find a way to kick things up a notch with an improved/updated KVM switch and/or a second monitor (fun stuff).

 I haven’t even gotten close to starting to customize the box yet (did I mention not having enough time?). I have enough software downloads to keep me busy for quite awhile so will need to find a slow spot in the work schedule (I’m sure that that will happen any day now) so I can load this baby up and “Randy-ize” it. Then I'll be all fixed up and ready to go.

 Minnick Computer Services is also now sporting two additional 3TB USB external drives. That brings the total (for backups, drivers et. al.) to a little more than 12TB of external storage. Keep in mind that there are no movies involved here. These are just storage volumes for applications, utilities, drivers (I have a passel of those), operating system ISO’s, backups, and the like. My internal storage on just my four desktop boxes is about 3TB (not including Connie’s big Dell E521 XP machine at 320GB or the laptops).

 I’m also now running seven operating systems (who woulda thunk?!). Including laptops, they are Win 98, Win ME, Win XP, Vista, Win 7, Win 8.1, and Ubuntu (Linux). I could run Windows 2000 Pro if I wanted to (and have thought about it since I trained on that particular OS) but it’s the progenitor to XP so it is basically XP without the frills. Both are based on the “NT” kernel.

 The XP and ME boxes are tied together with a KVM switch to a big Sony flat-screen and a booming set of speakers with a nice sub-woofer like my main station and Connie’s station (at my right hand….not so far to reach for a smootch, don’tcha know). That XP/ME set-up has a ton (not an exaggeration) of really nice music, video, and office software that includes the ADOBE CS6 PRO Suite, CakeWalk, Fruity Loops, and Band in the Box. I’ll be hooking up a lot more hardware to it including a audio mixer and USB microphone…..when I ….have time. *SIGH*.

 All of the stuff is networked wired and wireless using standard routers and hubs. It isn’t sophisticated but it works well for me.

 The van is next on the list to get fixed. This will be the repairs from Hurricane Fizzlebane that blasted through here last August. It will be nice to have my big Ford all nice and shiny again after being pummeled by the neighbor’s barn’s corrugated roofing material, trash from several neighbors’ property, and who knows what else.

The old hoopy is still running strong with 137K on her clock. She needed a new pair of shoes so we just bought her a set of P225 x 60R x 16 Pirelli’s.  Those babies are silky smooth and are “VR” rated. That’s good for 149 mph but, guess what? Ol’ Brother Ran is good for about 85 mph but only if he’s out in West Texas on I-10 or I-20. But, he isn’t... I repeat... isn’t going anywhere near that speed without being strapped to a set of wings.

I did take my ’67 Ford Fairlane GT four-speed with a 335 hp 390 CID engine to 130 early one morning in Jan on the “20 Bypass” on the south end of Rockford, IL in 1970. You can rest assured that that happened well before my brain cells awoke to sanity and while they were still soaked in youthful floods of testosterone. That’s nothing less than having Superman’s bravado stuffed in Superdork’s brain. I don’t recall ever driving too much over 105 mph but only a few times after that. That’s because I shifted from 3^rd to 4^th at 105 mph “when necessary” (I can still hear that big four-barrel carb sucking wind).

 

It’s springtime so the “Ranch Rino” is will need to have the exhaust manifold fixed. I don’t need it a lot but it is a handy gadget to have when you have a stuck vehicle needing a tow (don’t ask). A local friend is a mechanic and he’s back from AZ where he goes to avoid the winter here. He’s home early because…..we didn’t actually experience but a few days of winter. I actually had the A/C on today a couple of times to cool down the van after it was parked in the sun for awhile.

 

Also, “Tilly”, the Rancho Relaxo tined cultivator, will need some attention. It hasn’t been run in a couple of season so the spark plug will need to be pulled and such. I have some “hot shot” starting fluid that takes the pain out of starting motors so that should help (have I mentioned that I’m “convenience oriented”?).

 

Granddaughter, Liesl, 9 years, just spent the previous week with us. She’s a hoot from the git go. There is no end to her spunk and sass. Having been home-schooled, she’s quite the bright LED, too. There are no flies on her pies at all! We made sure to do our part to be scriptural in “making fat her bones”. She seemed to be quite amenable to the matter and turned away no good thing.

 

We know she’s normal because the kid loves hamburgers. When we took her back to her momma, we all gathered at the IN-N-OUT Burger joint at Tejon Ranch (on I-5 just across the street from the Petro Truck Stop about 35 miles south of Bakersfield before you start up the Grapevine).  The burger and fries didn’t have a chance. In fact, the world lost quite a large part of a steer that day when all seven of us descended upon the place with our fangs flashing.

 

It’s been awhile since my “spoil the grandkids” expertise has been hauled out of the cave but I found that, with enough prompting, it resurfaced fairly quickly. In no time at all, I was approaching professional levels of competence. Boy, did Liesl appreciate that!

 

She loves to ride horses so, thanks to dear friends and horse owners, Frank and Bonna Wittick, she was able to mount up and go. She and Connie also spent some time slaving away in the kitchen and in the “arts and crafts department” (that would be the dining room table) gussying up prizes and decorations for our church Valentine’s Day party.

 

Anyway….we fixed up the little lady and she had a great time at the ol’ Rancho.  And, we had a grand time practicing our grand-parenting.

 

That’s the news from Rancho Fixo for now. Hang around and grab a wrench; there’s a lot to be done.