Monday, August 14, 2023

RANCHO MUY MUCHO AUGUSTO

                                                     CLICK ON PICS TO ENLARGE




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.









I doubt if there are but few things that will keep the younger folks' attention than a baby chick. Our grandkiddies were entertained for the best part of two days with them! This chick's new name is "Hugo". 











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 beauty is a like-new 26" 7 speed Schwinn "City" series, "Addison" model. They retail for 349.95 (depending upon where you shop, of course). We were dumbstruck when were driving from a client's house (at River Island Golf Course) and saw this gorgeous bike sitting along the curb with a "FREE" sign on it. I reckon everyone knows that FREE is our friend at Rancho Relaxo! It didn't take any time at all to hoist this thing into the back of the Coop de Ville and head home with it! I rode it (and didn't fall off, by golly!) and it runs like new! It ain't broke! It's like new!! The little rubber nubbies area still on the tires!!! We could hardly believe it!! There was a "for sale" sign out front so we assumed that the nice folks who lived there just didn't have time or room to deal with it. WE DID! PTL!!






Well...it was bound to happen again at some point in time. That point was the not long ago. This guy showed up on the back porch. You just know that Connie the Canner doesn't allow reptiles in her world even if they are just visiting. It was rendered headless with a long-handled Rancho hole digger. I need a nice hatband but just  don't have time to tan the dang thang. 












Well….it’s August…again. I’m inclined to think that the distance from earth to the sun has been shortened which has resulted in our years getting closer together. Years are now seemly lapsing about every six months or so. I could be wrong; they could be lapsing every three months or so. In either case, we need to petition the Lord about this matter because something ain’t right. It’s only 132 days until Christmas! Hokey Smoke! Moving along…Here’s the latest from our benevolent dictatorship.

But first, a word from our sponsor:

This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by "Winsome Wendy’s Wonderful Whipple Whapples". Now, these are the best Wonderful Whipple Whapples that money can buy! They're made right here in the US of A. You cannot...I say...you cannot get a better Wonderful Whipple Whapple anywhere! You can get your bountiful supply of "Winsome Wendy’s Wonderful Whipple Whapples"at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Rapid Mart, Quick Mart, and all those marts where them guys have those towels wrapped around their heads. Tell'em the 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. 

 Connie, the Side Kook of all trades, hauled a dead chicken out of the freezer, thawed it and said, "Here, cook this". Since it only had a few buttons, there wasn't much to dread about the matter. The intrepid rancher solidly parked the whole chicken on the rack and assailed the buttons (all three of them) without timidity. The timer was set and the "Go" button was pushed. 

When the timer went off (we had to flip the chicken at the half-way point), we just had to try it! It smelled wonderful! We each took a chunk and were amazed! The meat just fell off the bone and the skin was crisp! It was almost like someone had smuggled in a “Costco” rotisserie chicken into our kitchen!! Guess who filled his belly with chicken to the top button of his shirt?! This thing instantly endeared itself to us! The old folks now have another new friend!

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.






Tuesday, July 11, 2023

RANCHO COOLIO JULIO

 

Greetings and welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for July. 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 quickly-browning foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Thanks to La Niña, we have been having an exquisite summer! The daily high temps are almost like April and early May around here! Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo global headquarters.




Feel free to click on the pictures to enlarge them. 


Some folks have parakeets. We have a pair o' cuties. There are two more asleep behind these little guys. We got them from good friend and fellow hamster, Eddie O., who helped us track down them and their feral momma. We weren't quite fast enough to catch all little speedy chicks so we settled for these. They are growing by leaps and bounds! 








Here they are again a couple of weeks later. They have now grown so big that we have them in the large cage in the coop. They still have to be segregated for awhile or the big bad bully biddies will try to put a stop to their growth spurt. 









Another brother, Ralph R., hatched out a ton of chicks then gave us a dozen of them! Connie has, once again, gained the title of, "Supreme Chicken Grandma" (she is supreme at a lot of things but she enjoys this above most others). We're almost ready to move these little peckers to the top loading cage we had the feral chicks in. It's certainly warm enough. The feral chicks have moved to a nice large cage inside the coop until they are large enough to be with the rest of the heard. These are "straight run" birds so we will likely have meat birds and layers. We can always use some of them for barter, I should think. 








This is one of the big juicy rancho plums. They are plumb good! Our four trees only produced a light harvest due to the screwy cooler weather which produced a late crop. Nevertheless, they were quite tasty. They didn't make the freeze dryer due to the fact that the labor force around here was already frazzled with projects. It's frazzling to pit and slice  buckets of plums and we were are already plumb out of the need for any more frazzling. 







Well, the pre-occupied Ol' Rancher had to make a quick check for the mail and was greeted by fervently-flowing fountain of fresh water. Swell. Just what he needed. No one had seen the event but it definitely was the result of trauma to the riser because it was fractured. It was thought at first that it had simply came unstuck.

The first thing that needed to be done is to head to the back of the property to shut off the 2" main ditch water line (we get our irrigation water from the "Pleasant Valley Ditch Company" and get our personal water from a well). After that, I was able to get the project high up on the "fix now" list. Rancho Relaxo keeps lots of PVC connectors and pipe for just such occasions. But (why is there always a "but" around here?), the PVC cement and etchant were not to be found. That led to a trip to "Springville Building Supply" to fetch supplies. Once they were obtained and a hole dug (I just love shovel work,  don't you?), the parts were cemented together and left to dry. The water was turned on the next day. 


Here's Fuzzy and the next door neighbor's little pooch, Pedro. They are great pals. Abbie hasn't been in a good mood since the cage bouts with the bobcat and the bulldog so doesn't feel up to a good romp. So, Pedro has taken up the task of romping and cavorting. Fuzzy's a great neighbor and even lets the little guy win sometime! 









Pedro is a "water dog" and can't get enough of it. He comes over when the sprinkler is on and goes to town! He's a hoot to watch!






Pedro wasn't happy taking on one sprinkler so he headed for another one across the yard. He is also known to be right on time for breakfast in the mornings when Abbie and Fuzzy are getting fed. 











The other day (when lots of things happen around here), I was experimenting with "finger art" and....well...not really. It seems the Ol' Rancher wasn't paying attention to things and shut his lil' ol' finger in a car door. My, but didn't that set the alarm bells to ringing?! Thankfully, the door didn't shut all the way. That would have been...interesting. After a few days of letting the swelling and discoloration abate, a decoration of some kind formed in the middle of the nail (ergo, "nail art"). Remind me not to do that again. 









Not long ago (but longer than the other day), Connie the Canner and the Ol' Rancher stopped by a local place (in Porterville) called "Gleaners" where our cousin, Heather M., is manager. She asked if I could take a look at their  PC because it was having some issues. Of course, I was glad too. One of the first things I did was to check the Internet speed using "FAST.COM". Boy, howdy!! Was I blown away!! I have seen 90mbps service but what I saw I had only read about. After blinking a few times, I still saw 940mbps!! 940!!! By the time I went to the van to grab my cell phone and returned to snap a picture for proof, the speed had dropped to 470mbps!! Heather didn't know who their ISP is but I'm going to see if I can get hooked up with them!! My guess is that it's Charter/Spectrum. We'll see. This kind of speed is beyond "blistering hot" and it surely builds a fire under me!!






 

As per our wont, we stopped a local yard sale here in Springville about a week ago. The nice lady had been in law enforcement and was selling of some of here LEO stuff and some other bric-a-brac (we bought a few things). As I dug through her boxes, I saw this little guy still in its original box! It looked as though it had hardly been used at all! I asked, "What's the story on the camera?". She replied that when she was cleaning out her stuff, someone just tossed it in her box. I asked for the price: $10.00. SOLD! I have another one of these "Cool Pix" cameras (that I got for 10.00 at a yard sale) but this one has a 5 power zoom (the other one is a 3 power zoom) and has a ....get this...20.1 mega-pixel chip! That's  up there in professional territory! I stuffed a 2GB SD chip and a couple of AA batteries in it then hit the "Go" button. She sprang to life and all is well! This little camera will probably follow me around in the van for a long time to come. 









Y'all just know I want one of these!! It was at the new "Tractor Supply" store on West Henderson. Ain't he cute?!
B'GAAAAACK!! 

















This is Connie the Washer Woman's new LG Heavy Duty Extra-Large capacity washing machine. The previous machine was a "Maytag" that was purchased about 6 or so years ago with the thought that you likely couldn't get a better washer. In other words, the brainwashing from the advertisements from the 50's and 60's led us to believe that "Maytag" was the most reliable and dependable machine on the market. Well, they may well have been the case 50 years ago. However, today, the brand is just another name on a long list of machines that one huge corporation  bought up. Almost all of the familiar washing machines and dryers manufactured in America today are made by just a couple of companies (and even some of them aren't even made in this country). They just brand badge them (like GM used to do with cars). Most of them are made in the same factory by the same people and using the same parts (other than the cosmetics). In other words, "same junk, different covers". 

I'm familiar with LG and it's history so I bought it instead of what I wanted in the first or second place. The alternate would be the "Whirlpool" brand which I've always had a great respect for (I used to sell a ton of them). "Whirlpools" are now made in the same factory as the "Maytags" using the same (junk) parts so I passed on both. I had to rebuild the "Maytag" washer twice and the dryer twice. This time, the washer lost its electronic mind and wouldn't complete it's simple tasks. Add to that, is was rusting and falling apart! So, it had to go. 

And now, a word from our sponsor: This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by Mother Marsha’s Moby Mibby Moobers.  Now, these are the best Moby Mibby Moobers that money can buy! They're made right here in the US of A. You cannot...I say...you can't get a better Moby Mibby Moober  anywhere! You can get your bountiful supply of Mother Marsha’s Moby Mibby Moobers  at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Rapid Mart, Quick Mart, and all those marts where them guys have those towels wrapped around their heads. Tell'em the Ol' Rancher sent you. You'll be glad you did!

Rancho hint for the day:

                                      Red meat is not bad for you...

                                            Fuzzy green meat is bad for you.

Well...beat me with a brolly, Dolly! It's July! Doesn’t that just put a kink in your Speedo?! Time is whizzing by faster than a Sante Fe freight train with no brakes on Cajon Pass! Only 166 days until Christmas! *SIGH* 

The good news is that our daytime temps have been more in the range that we see in late April through mid-May! Everyone around here is lovin' it!! It's like having an extended spring so we get to smell everyone's BBQ grill's that are in high gearMoving along.....

Princess Abbie report: It gives me great pleasure to announce that our dear Princess Abbie is doing well and has healed up amazingly well and amazingly quickly! We seriously thought it was going to take a lot longer! It's difficult to tell by looking that she had been so torn up not so long ago (she looked like she single handedly took on Paulus's Sixth Army!). This despite the fact that we let the wounds heal by "secondary intent". 

One wound was actually almost overlooked. We had bandaged her while she was lying down so as not to disturb her. This meant that a thorough exam wasn't conducted of her entire body. That could have been a terrible oversight given the severity of the wound. After a few days when she was able to stand and get around a bit while, we were changing her dressings and discovered the hidden wound. 

The big cat had incised her breast area with a razor sharp claw!  It actually looked like the cat used a box cutter! The antiseptic and the "Silvex" wound dressing were hauled out and the gash was properly treated and bandaged. Even in so short of a time, the wound is almost totally healed and no further antiseptic is required! Amazing! 

She's still not in her usual perky good mood and tends to be a bit brisk with Fuzzball and Pedro, the neighbor's pup. Perhaps she's feeling remorseful about not being able to rout the intruders who threatened the ranch on her watch. She needn't worry since I always give her plenty of kudos and love whenever I can. She digs every minute of it!

A quick note: if you don't have any "Silvex", please do yourself a favor: get several tubes. This stuff is amazing. It's a type of colloidal silver and it aids healing like nothing I've ever seen  (and I've seen a lot). We gave some to a friend who had some sort of open wound that was not healing properly. He used it then went to his doctor who wondered what on earth he did to heal so fast and so well! It's only about 8 bucks at Wal-Mart so grab at least a few of tubes the next you drop by to see Ol' Sam (or order it from Amazon or such). You won't regret it. 

Fuzzy, the Horn Dog or Stuck Doggie Dog: The other day, some of the "indoor work" was being attended to (upstairs in the office) when a call rang out on the HT (our ever-ready Baofeng BF-888 handy talky radios) to come downstairs. Being disturbed isn't too big of a deal since it's difficult to not be disturbed when you live at Rancho Relaxo where disturbance is a way of life. 

Lo and behold....the call for assistance came from Connie the Canner who had just been apprised that our dear playful young 40 pound pup, Fuzzy Doodle, just had his coming of age liaison with, of all things, "Stella", the neighbor's bulldog (who was very much in heat)! However, the liaison wasn't the issue; it was the fact that no one knew what to do when FuzzBall overstepped himself and got stuck on the job! 

My lightning-fast mind thought, "This ought to be interesting!". I'd seen such things in the past but had no idea how to resolve the matter without changing the course of the dog's history. I can do paramedical things but vet things are pretty much above my pay grade. I mean...what do I do? Do I grab a hacksaw or will a crowbar do? Do I call for some "KY" jelly? Will a little dab do me or do I need the entire tube? Will there be parts of my hand in the dog's next bowel movement if I do any of this? Will Fuzzy even have a DNA distributor when he's all freed up? Will I be a hero or a zero? Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there. 

Connie the Canner must have been praying because the matter resolved itself and Fuzzy, the horn dog, rather enthusiastically and, with all of his body parts intact, came prancing back into his own yard (I could have sworn he was smiling). As you can imagine, there was a huge sigh of relief expressed by the bewildered and helpless rancher. All was well again. Maybe it's time for me to give Fuzzy at little talk about the "birds and bees". Then again, his English language skills aren't all that great. 

The thought of a Bulldog and Labra-Doodle mix isn't an inviting one for this ol' dude. Let's hope that this is a "no go"  fling with no call for a "shotgun wedding" and further hoping that the neighbors get the hint to have Stella fixed. EGAD! What a thought!

Beans! Beans! The musical fruit! Or, Hark! Hark! A Fark!: The other day (when lots of things happen around here), the Ol’ Rancher whomped up a mess of ham and beans. Now, I don’t have a clue as to whether or not y’all whomp up your meals or not. But, here at Rancho Relaxo, we do a lot of whomping. It’s sort of, “To whomp or not to whomp; that is the question”. Anyway, what do you do with three large ham bones and meat scraps that were just released for service after being carved out of three large hams? Obviously, the answer was, "It's “whomping time”. 

The bones and ham were tossed into a large pot and the "Great Northern" beans were prepped (Navy beans work just as well with some folks preferring them instead). The usual ingredients were tossed in (celery, onions, and carrots) and some garlic, salt, and pepper, were added. Chicken bullion makes for a great soup base so that was included. A couple of cups of small-diced potatoes were also added. That's a North Carolina version that I really took a liking to. The beans were then added and the fire was lit. After a couple of hours of simmering, we had ourselves a feast with which to feed the old people!  

Of course, there are always consequences when you mix high-fiber beans with hungry teeth and a cavernous maw (speaking for myself, naturally). It seems that the little tiny bacteria and enzymes in the human body are overwhelmed when they meet up with our tasty legume friends. There is an inefficiency in the digestion of sugars that results in a pungent, gaseous, and musical byproduct (try not to bring that or your banjo to choir practice, please).   

This knowledge did give us pause. We were afraid that, if there was a boisterous gaseous exchange between two old people, we would be reported as having enough noxious gas emissions to affect climate change and get ourselves reported and arrested! We could even get fined for disturbing the peace! Besides, what would we tell the neighbors while we collect our bed sheets from their front yard (isn't there a song, "Blowin' in the Wind")?

Thankfully, our enzyme friends and bacteria buddies were on the job and working overtime so their were no serious seismic events (although there were a couple of tremors). And, we didn't even trigger the CO alarm. Luck abounds. 

Whackin' out back or Big ol' bundle of boundless beat: Sometimes, you've just gotta go outside and get some whackin' done. That happened a couple of days ago when the personal biorhythms and the stars were all aligned and the tired Ol' Rancher had a couple of sips of coffee to help jump start things. 

The initial chore was to haul the hoses out, clear/purge the the irrigation system, and set the sprinklers for the orange trees. "No biggy", said the head hose honcho. Well, as you might imagine, things went downhill pretty quickly from that point. 

There's a monster plum tree that had been planted in one corner of the orange patch that had grown too large. It prevented access to the two orange trees behind it. So, something had to be done to get water to them and soon, at that. It was time to do some whackin' out in the back forty (which is actually the back 1.5).

Whacking (otherwise known as pruning and which applies to most other work around the place that requires hand tools) requires a lot of energy. Energy is usually husbanded around here for good reason. There just isn't a major supply of the stuff so any  commitment to use it must be given great thought. But, this is Rancho Relaxo and sometimes there just isn't any time for serious deliberation. The trees needed water. 

The pruning shears were dragged out and employed....at noon....in the hot sun.... without warming up the muscles.... and without taking time to don a long sleeve shirt....brilliant. After about ninety minutes of full throttle whacking, the bloodied and beat rancher slowly made it back to the house. The watering would have to wait until the next day. There just wasn't enough "gas" left in the tanks.  It took a couple of days to recover from that spur-of-the-moment decision. Note to self: try not to do that again, Obi Wan Old Fogy. 

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.



Sunday, June 11, 2023

Rancho Está Muy Frío Afuera.


Greetings and welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for June. We’re running late with the post this month just like the previous two issues. And, like previously, there are lots of reasons for that but you will be spared most of them. In any case, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the quickly-browning foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo global headquarters.







This is Rancho Ran, the Ol' Far....Farmer in his natural habitat. Notice the ultra-casual and comfortable attire. It's important to note that no dollar bills were injured in attaining such comfort. Notice that everything in the room just is (and with no room to spare). When he moves in any direction, something gets knocked over so he uses a seatbelt to contain himself. You're lucky that he allowed Connie the Canner to cut his hair or he would have passed for Samuel Clemens which would have made this picture unpresentable. 




OK....a "blast from the past" moment. I'm sure that everyone who reads the "Rancho Relaxo Report" just can't wait to see a picture of the Ol' Rancher when he wasn't even a rancher but just another stupid human on planet earth (I can prove that statement). This was taken in April of 1974 at 1700 N. Newcomb Street, Porterville, CA. The guy on the left, believe it or not, is the young Randy L. Minnick and his first wife, Vicki Marie (nee Carter) Minnick. Notice how I tower over her. That didn't seem to factor into our marriage for some reason. 

To the right is my youngest brother, Steven Craig Minnick (Dec. 6, 1953 - July 3, 2014) and his first wife, Cleta. Notice that he  towers rather significantly over her while she under-towers Vicki (who stands at 5' 1 1/2"). That didn't seem to factor in much either because that marriage failed a few years later as did mine. 

In the background with his back towards us and playing the guitar (and completely oblivious to anything happening around him, as usual), is my brother, David Ray Minnick (Dec. 21, 1950 - Dec. 10, 1979). 

At the bottom of the picture is my very young daughter, Jennifer Lou. She's a big girl now and has presented us with three beautiful children who also have children (making us OLD great-grand parents). 


To the right is Abbie after a tough bout with a local bobcat. Seems she took exception to his daring to wander into her territory. She paid a hefty price for her bravery, though. This was to be the first of two expensive bouts. The second bout was only a week later when she took on the neighbor's massive bulldog. She lost both fights but continues to recover (albeit, slowly). 














Part of recovery, of course, involves resting. Though she has a large and comfortable bed on the patio, Abbie elected to park in one of our flower boxes for a nap. Whatever. 



This is a very unusual picture in that it's a shot of a never-seen-before (by yours truly in at least 60 years) thunderstorm at this time of year. Usually, such storms are far later in the summer and they are without but a few rain drops. This storm had real rain. But, other than a few hot days, we've had far cooler temps than normal. Guess what? NO ONE is complaining!! 
















OK number 2...here's your boat load of "Awwwwww" for the day. Some folks have parakeets while we have a "pair of cutes". In the background are the two other cuties. They appear to be getting their beauty  rest. 


















Among the many hats she wears, Connie the Canner is a consummate and caring "Chicken Grandma" (sort of has a ring to it, eh?). These little guys can expect the best of care while under her watch. 













Here's the "freebie" for the day. This is a "Mexican Palm Tree". We have a lot of them in this area. Seems some salesman (who must have been very good at his trade) in the 1920's sold the local yokels on the benefits of having an extremely tall tree that does nothing else and has no particular benefits (like making coconuts) but to suck water from the ground. Given where we live and, given the need to try to mitigate the  withering summer sizzle in the San Joaquin Valley, you would have thought that they would have laughed at him and then screamed, "We need something that gives us some shade, you moron!" Who knows.




And now, a word from our sponsor. This issue of Rancho Relaxo is brought to you by Lucky Linda’s Laddy Loody Lobbers.  Now, these are the best Laddy Loody Lobbers that money can buy! They're made right here in the US of A. You cannot...I say...you can't get a better Laddy Loody Lobber anywhere! You can get your bountiful supply of Lucky Linda’s Laddy Loody Lobbers at the Wal-Mart, KMART, Speedy Mart, Rapid Mart, Quick Mart, and all those marts where them guys have those towels wrapped around their heads. Tell'em the Ol' Rancher sent you. You'll be glad you did!

       

                      "You ain't seen the las' of Ernest T. Bass!"

 

Well…here we go again. Time is sizzling by like it was hooked to an SR-71 Blackbird.  We’ve reached the middle of the year and it’s for certain that I’m only prepared for the first part. What on earth?

I hate to gripe, complain, and otherwise bellyache. But, I reckon that time has somehow gotten away from me. It just up and pounced on me like a cat on a red dot. I once was young and full of vim and vigor but now I’m just old and full of other nouns (none of which start with a “V”). 

To tell you how old I am, I used to get the Denny’s “Grand Slam” breakfast for 1.99!! No kidding! And, gas was only 28.9 cents per gallon! That was the regular price and not during the price wars when you could get a fill up for 19.9 cents per gallon! Burgers were 15 cents and fries and Cokes were a dime! Shoot! You could buy lunch for 50 cents and get change back! You could do the week’s shopping for way less than ten bucks! I remember the time in 1958 when a loaf of “Bunny Bread” was 28 cents. Unreal! Moving along to the Rancho Report. 

 "To Costco we shall go. To Costco well shall go. High ho, the merry-o, to Costco we shall go" (in the key of "F", for all you banjo players our there): Depending upon the circumstances, it's great to get to escape to a "real town" like Visalia. I mean, they have just about everything there. It's almost like Fresno where you can throw a rock and hit a great place to throw money at food! Of course, being old folks, we don't throw much money very far. We are selective with our light weight coin heaving and elect to dine at modestly-priced places like "Raising Cane's" at Mooney Blvd and Caldwell. But, we're not limited to such a modestly-priced-but-great-place to eat. 

Costco is a true highlight for us. Not only do we get to pick up a few bargains and hit the freebie sample stations (oh, do we ever), we often avail ourselves of one of the most superlative of specials which is their hot dog and soda combo for....get this...1.50!! Hot doggies!! My, but they’re good! Depending upon our schedule, we can sometimes eat the hot dog special at about noon and then pick up something else prior to returning to Treadmill, USA. 

Another great place to lighten your wallet is Popeye's. We recently went there on a culinary pilgrimage to Visalia not long ago (it was actually a business trip but pilgrimage sounds more inviting). I must say that I've always loved fried chicken and was spoiled by my grandmother's cooking (and so were you!). But, Popeye's has the best fried chicken sandwich and fried chicken that you can get for under 20 bucks in the state. Their Cajun fries are OK and I don't complain at all. But, I really dig the old fashioned, fresh-out-of-the-grease, crinkle-cut fries. So, it's some times a toss-up between Cain's and Popeye's. On this trip, though there is a Popeye's on Noble Ave in Visalia, we elected to go to the one on Cherry Ave. in Tulare. It just sort of worked out the way and required a tad less driving. Popeye's is our friend! 

By the time we get home from shopping all day and we unload our haul, we're too tired to suck the skin off a custard. In such a state of exhaustion, if the little mouse's hands haven't reached 4PM, we'll take a nap (naps are our friends). Unfortunately, we arrived much later than than so we skipped the nap so that we wouldn't be up all night long looking for things to do. 

The Hawaiian Water Mess or The Sneaky Leaky: I hate  water leaks worse than Jenks, the cat, hates “meeses to pieces”. However, I couldn't help but notice that, where water exists, leaks are sure to follow. C'est la vie. So, the other day (when lots of things happen around here), Connie the Do-all lady advised that there was water in our walk-in closet (one of the last places on earth you need to water). "Great", says the Ol' Rancher. "Just what I need".  

The first order of business was to pull the carpet back and see if you can determine the source of the leak. It was quickly discovered that water was coming in from the opposite wall directly where the Maytag washer is working for its pay. That was actually a good thing since the master bedroom restroom abuts the adjacent wall and it can also leak. However, it is restroom plumbing that can be a source for another type of leak and that's a  "slab leak". That would be some really painful news because it involves a jackhammer and busting up the concrete slab under the house.  

A large floor fan was set up to dry out the work area and carpet. The wall was already circumscribed with the dark stain of wetness  so there wasn't any issue figuring out how much drywall to hack out and replace. 

The leak came from a water connector hose on the washer. There's a "Y" adapter section that had somehow managed to twist loose and it started leaking. Thankfully, there is a drain under the washer. However, it seems that the water flow was greater than the drain's ability to receive it. So, it just found its way into the walls. Great. 

The damaged drywall was scribed, cut, and removed then measurements were taken. All reserve drywall had been used so a new slice had to be appropriated the next day. After getting the drywall, three pieces were measured and cut out. One was for the wall in the closet; one was for the wall behind the washer. And, one was for the master bathroom ceiling above the shower that "someone" forgot to recover after the previous unwelcomed leak. Thankfully, my pay wasn't docked for that oversight and lax maintenance around here. 

We use premixed mud so it didn't take long to fit, mud, and tape the repairs. If there is enough energy to go around before too long, the sanding and texturing will be completed and a fresh coat of paint will be applied. I just need a day off so I can get some work done around here. 

Doggie Report and Puppy Prankster: Let's start with Fuzzy. You'd think that a well-fed and well-cared for (for the most part; he needs another bath) pooch would appreciate having a large comfortable bed to sleep on. NOPE. Not my friendly, affable, playful, goofy, pal, FuzzBall. No, sireee. He's turned into Darth Fuzz…destroying bedding and pillow just for the (twisted) fun of it. He actually goes out of his way to perpetrate his crimes. It's premeditation (or at least a predilection). "Fuzzy the Destroyer" just doesn't have a ring to it. 

One of his latest dismemberments left us cleaning up foam rubber from here to what seemed like Lindsay (15 miles as the Ch-47 Chinook flies)! UGH! It was a really nice soft pillow bed and I thought that it would last for a long time. Abbie would curl upon on it and snooze away. For Fuzzy, it was an enemy to eradicate. *SIGH*

 Not long ago (but longer than the other day), we came home  from church at about 8:30 PM only to find that Abbie didn't quite look right. She was limping and just wasn't herself. Upon further evaluation, we found that she had been in a fierce and brutal altercation with something big and bad. 

Upon closer examination, we found that she had a large laceration in her side and two smaller lacerations on her back. Then, there were two approximately 9mm puncture wounds in her left thigh and hindquarters. It was posited later that she likely engaged a bobcat. Those puncture wounds corresponded closely to the fangs of a bobcat and a bobcat was seen in the vicinity the next day. She was bloody but the bleeding seemed to have stopped or, at least, was at a minimum. My lightning fast mind noted that, "This isn't good". 

We cleaned and covered her wounds and prepared bedding for her in our back bathroom just off the laundry room and near the rear door. For the next few days, she rested and regained some strength. Her appetite returned and things were looking up. 

There seemed to be no real reason why we couldn't let her remain outdoors and get some fresh air. This would also help the wounds to heal more quickly. But, this is Rancho Relaxo and you just never know what can happen. 

I was upstairs when Connie, in an  unusually loud voice, called for me to come down. When I got outside in the back, Abbie was coming onto the back porch. She had been brutalized again! Only, this time, it was far worse than before. The new neighbor's massive bulldog had forayed into our back yard and Abbie, who was already in a bad mood, very likely took exception to the intrusion. The two dogs tangled and the bulldog gained superiority in no time. Thankfully, the neighbor heard the ado and called for the bulldog to come back. She obeyed and the fight was over. But, Abbie had been severely brutalized. Frankly, it was a close call. Had the neighbor not been so responsive, there could not have been a good ending to this battle. 

She's doing OK now. We're taking good care of her and keeping her wounds clean and cared for. She's in a fairly good mood and still has a good appetite. We'll keep everyone posted. 

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.

Thursday, May 11, 2023

RANCHO SNAKE-O

 

Greetings and welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for May. We’re running late with the post this month, too. And, like last month, there are lots of reasons for that but you will be spared most of them. In any case, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble quickly-drying-out rancho nestled in the quickly-browning foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo global headquarters.






YOU MAY CLICK ON THE PICS TO ENLARGE THEM






Fuzzy is no longer a small puppy that can easily fit on your lap. He's a huge shaggy puppy that is hard pressed to fit in your pickup. It didn't take him long to grow from about Abbie's size to twice her size now!







                                                              

                                                                                                                                                        


 Above is Fuzzy letting Abbie know that she's his pal.                To the right: Some of the things I like about Fuzzy is his spunkiness and the fact that he's a cornball like me. He is always in the "Wanna see my tongue"  mode. He's a real hoot!

We have decided that our newest Coop de Ville III is our favorite of the three we've owned. I suspect it's the color. Not sure. But, we're delighted to have this beauty every time we get in it. The first van had 11k miles on it when I got it. The second had 83K on it and this one had 113k on the clock.  







Here are a few nature shots of our area. The one to the right is a pic taken from the Success Lake Viewpoint and looking north. 









This shot is taken from Highway 190 just below the lake and looking north. We have SNOW! In fact, we have 263% of normal snowpack. 







                                          



To the right, we see a picture of the Sierras                               taken from Pleasant Oak at the                                                  Montgomery Ranch area
This shot is from Hwy 190 in downtown Springville at "Bridge Road" and looking east. Immediately to the right just out of the picture is the fire station. Unfortunately, the green is fading so fast that you can see it change daily. In a few days from now, the hills will revert back to "California Gold". 








 This is the control panel for "Big Bertha" the new freeze drying machine. Connie the Dryer put this thing to work straightaway!







She's doing six long and wide trays at a time. It takes about 22-24 hours per batch. When finished, you simply defrost it, cool it down, and make the next run. Being easy to operate makes it an old people's friend! Connie the Canner has given it no rest since it was set up. The results are amazing!! I wish I would have gotten one of these ten years ago! 



This is Big Bertha just out of the shipping box. The largest box on top is the vacuum pump. The next largest is the Mylar bag sealer while the smallest is a box of Mylar bags. We're looking at about 250 pounds of stuff. 

This is Big Bertha's best photogenic side. She's not vain though and is a real workhorse. 










To the right and down below are the wiring and tools used to replace Dumbo the Trailer's wiring. Time and weather has rendered it useless so I replaced it. The hardware includes a new "four flat" colored trailer wiring connector, wire cutters, a flameless fire starter (for the shrink tubing), shrink tubing, crimping tool, and crimp-on butt connectors. 





This is the sight I saw when going into the coop to collect eggs the other day. This big boy had already "helped" with the egg collection! I mistook him for a rattler at first. However, though I hate to kill one of the good snakes (he's a gopher snake), I really can't have him helping himself to the fruit of my girls' labor. The good news is that, here at the ranch, we have options (options are our friends, too). The best option for this guy was a shot to the head using a 6 shot revolver loaded with .22LR shot shell. One shot, one kill. 

Here he is uncoiled. He measured right at five feet long. Notice in both pictures the egg he swallowed. What was ironic was that he swallowed one of the wooden mock eggs that we use to encourage the layers produce more and to lay where we want them too. That way, we don't have an Easter egg hunt all of the time. I should have fashioned him into a hat band. 




Well….it’s May. Doesn’t that just char your chicharrones? Only 224 days until Christmas! Where does the time go?! Moving along….

Be kind to your web-footed friends.

Things are moving along here at the rancho. We’re busy….really busy. It’s spring and we are shifting gears to cope with that. When you add the new “toy” (freeze dryer), things get …interesting around here. But, we are prospering and in health and it’s hard to beat that combination, eh?

 We haven’t started a garden yet. I need the Ranch Rhino (Ford 8N tractor) but our mechanic must have moved to Mars or another distant planet since he hasn’t returned (in 6 months) to finish installing the head gasket. It’ll be used to knock down the existing garden boxes then to level the dirt out and about the area.

 Some of the soil will be used to fill in the holes where FUZZY has allowed his inner back hoe to break loose and dig large deep holes in the yard (Fuzzy, I love you but we need to talk).

 Our wonderfully handy Honda FourTrax  ATV, “Hondo” (I like to refer to it by its Indian name, “Running Bear-ly”),  stopped working for some reason. It isn’t getting fuel. It’s likely that the issue is the cheap Chinese fuel petcock that was installed a few years ago. Not a big deal as they are only about twelve bucks or so. We’ll see. I just need a…day off…so I can get it fixed.

 After the previous huge, back-breaking, soul taxing yard sale last October, there were 50 or so boxes of stuff that we had to cover and try to preserve until we could haul it off. The time has come to do that.

At the time, there wasn’t any room in the barn because someone had just given us three trailer loads of really good stuff (no joke: really good stuff!) they didn’t want and had no room for. So, as for our bunch of boxes, we didn’t have time to haul it to the hangar so we just parked them under a few tarps until we could get to them. 

 The other day (when lots of things happen around here), there was enough time to haul about twenty-five percent of it off to a local guy who has a permanent (huge) yard sale about six miles down the hill from us. He’s a long-time friend so we’re just going to give everything to him. We’re glad to see it go. Sometime this week, we should be able to haul at least one more trailer load down there. Thankfully, after a rewiring job, Wooley Pulley is up to the task. 

 Snakes alive!! You just don’t know what is about to happen around the rancho. Sometimes you deal with a flood (either a man-made one or a natural one. At other times, you get to deal with a jungle for a front yard. On one day, you get to deal with a possum while on another, you get to deal with a raccoon (usually at night).  On another you can find yourself face to face with a reptile that loves chicken eggs. That’s the day that  we're going to address.

The practice is to gather the eggs from the boxes our ladies prefer to lay in. Then, since some of the gals are non-conformists and have other ideas rather than laying with the crowd, other boxes and areas in the coop need to be searched. It’s rather dim in the coop so the little flashlight that’s built into my lil’ trusty Baofeng BF-888 handy-talkie radio was brought to bear. Though it’s light is rather puny and hardly the great torch that my tactical flashlight is, it really didn’t take long to notice the large coiled mass in the lower corner laying box: a mass that looked menacingly like a rather large rattlesnake.

Well…I ain’t afraid o’ no ghosts and I ain’t afraid o’ no snakes, either. Besides, the unwelcomed intruder was snoozing away and not of a mind to be aggressive. Nevertheless, free siestas by egg nappers are not encouraged so something needed to be done.

Connie the Freeze Canner was decidedly in favor of using a cannon of maximum caliber to resolve the matter so that there wouldn't even be any evidence of a snake having been there. She’s a “no bugs ‘n snakes, m’lady” kinda gal so I understand. In fact, she doesn’t like spiders and snakes and other vermin and critters that will invade the farm and help themselves to our crops.

Reckon I’m a minimalist sort because I simply grabbed my western style six-shooter (you don’t have a six-shooter, pardner?! Don't let the Lone Ranger find out!) and loaded it with .22LR shot-shell rounds. Of course, I grabbed my ear protectors. I didn’t want to make my hearing aid have to work harder later on, don’tcha know.

By using .22LR shot-shell,  I accomplished at least two things. One is that the back wall of the coop will still be intact after killing the enemy. Using my 20GA Mossberg pump shotgun would have required a patch job, no doubt. The second thing is that we have a couple of sets of new neighbors who don’t yet know that I’m not on the FBI’s “Most Wanted” list. No need to let loose cannon fire and alert any skittish neighbors and compel them to call the Sheriff’s Office. Who knows; they may be “brush shooters”, too!

Anyway, to make a long story longer, the distance between the shooter and shootee was narrowed, aim at the head was taken, and the trigger was pulled. The invader was still moving too much for my liking (snakes will still move even with their head cut off) so I cranked another shot off. That reduced movement to the normal after-death squirming.

After all the movement was gone, he was hauled out for a photo op. Just another day at Rancho Relaxo.

Falling prices: Saving money at "Falling Prices" has about the same skill set as those who can flush a toilet. But, we like it and it’s cheap entertainment for the old people. We told ourselves that we would behave and not over do things last Saturday. Alas, that didn’t happen. We got so excited about all of the great deals that we actually set a personal record for purchasing stuff! 

After spending 64  dollars plus tax for 32 Target shopping bags (they must get a deal on them), we had to head home and unload and store everything. After a couple of days pondering this daunting matter, it dawned us that we were a couple of undisciplined and untrustworthy old people! We’ve considered grounding ourselves and taking our keys away for a couple of weeks. That would probably work well since we’re old and somewhat forgetful. It would take us awhile to find the keys. *SIGH*. 

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.