RANCHO MUCHO TRABAJO

 

Greetings and welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for Agusto. This month's issue is about on time. Just like the previous 120 months or so, things are still rather hectic around here. We're busier than a sea lion in a sardine cannery. Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the toasty-brown tender-filled foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. We've had a break in the weather and are mighty grateful that the tar on our roads isn't flowing. We're sort of back to being normal again with only low triple digit highs for the day. Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo global headquarters.

Click on pics to enlarge:

Surprise! This is what greeted that OL' Rancher when he  checked on the chickens this morning (Monday, 8-5-24). We have two brand new little birdie buddies. Most likely, we'll have one or two more in the morning. It really wasn't a surprise. Two biddies were brooding over the same batch of eggs (almost 20 of them!) for three weeks, now. So, it was a forgone conclusion that there would be some new "peeps" happening soon. 

Wanna see my big ol' rooster? This guy is a real humdinger! Look how big he is! He's so large that he can't fit in a KFC pressure cooker! I love this bird. He's just such a handsome fella! He executed a forceful coup in the coop and overthrew the previous "ruler of the roost" and became the "cock o' the walk". The other rooster, a beautiful Ameraucana, was sold to a lady in Visalia. He was so intimidated that he couldn't join the general population for fear of getting his feathery butt kicked! As much as I dig this gorgeous critter, he'll need to go on down the road. Being handsome isn't exactly a way to earn your keep at Rancho Relaxo. 

 

RATS! The other day, our A/C stopped working. Thankfully, Ol' Swampy, the evaporative cooler, was still on the job so we kicked it on to help combat the heat. We thought about swapping our old unit out for a newer one but that was going to be a rather spendy matter. One A/C repair outfit advised that they could perform a swap out for 600 dollars plus refrigerant. Well...the refrigerant is...gulp!...100 dollars per pound and it requires up to 10 pounds of the stuff to recharge the system! YIKES! They then stated that they could probably fix it for about 600 dollars by replacing the "pump down switch". So, we called another company and, lo and behold, they found that the issue was the wiring that the rats had caused by chewing on the wires and creating a loose wire (which controlled the switch). The fix 

was 300 dollars instead of a lot more! We are now                                                       keeping the old people cool again (this is a "NO                                                           SWEAT" zone!)!

 

Just tossing this one in for grins. This is a huge /American flag flying over one of our strip malls in downtown Porterville (Olive and D Streets). God bless the USA!!

Not long ago (but longer than the other day), we had to make a run to the "real" town of Visalia. On the way over, we stopped for lunch at "Boss Hoggs" restaurant in Farmersville (about 5 miles east of Visalia). I was in the mood for their chicken-fried steak but didn't particularly want the baked potato. I asked if I could substitute French fries and the nice server said, "Yes. Of course!". I also asked if she could drown my steak in gravy to make sure that it was good and dead. She said, "I sure can!". So, this is what ended up in front me holding my nice clean fork. I really shouldn't have eaten so much but I  justified my gluttony by reasoning  that we only get over this way on few occasions and I could also just skip a meal the next day. Reckon it worked because my conscience was clear all day. 

Tip of the Day:

"Good advice is often annoying. Bad advice never is" (old French proverb)

 

 And now a word from our sponsor:

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

Well....it's August and we're not only hot around here, we're busier than a hot dog stand at a baseball game! And....it's only 140 days until Christmas!! What's with that?! Didn't we just stow the wreaths and lights a few days ago? Sheeese! OK...enough carping. Moving along....

 The ol' rosster and ol' hen had to slow down a bit a couple of weeks ago. We had a case of the "draggies" where we didn't seem to have enough energy to heft a marshmallow above cup level. It could have been a cold since there was some minor coughing involved. Whatever it was, it wasn't very serious. So, we just took a couple of days off so we could catch up on doing nothing. That felt good. 

Big Bertha Runs Again or Which Switch is Which?: Last month, Big Bertha, the freeze dryer, decided to up and quit working. We try to pamper her by not overworking her so we do expect her to stay with the program and earn her salt. But, she was acting like someone slipped her a hundred mg of Thorazine. It was “lights out” for her. Her screen went blank and nothing could wake her. The dedicated 20 amp circuit breaker was double checked but it wasn’t at fault (some may catch that).

Harvest Right (the manufacturer) was called and a service ticket was filed. They called us back in a few days and the hunt was on for the culprit. The nice lady, Maria, had me shuck the back panel and then pull the jumper wire from the switch which then bypassed the switch and fed current directly to the machine. Lo and behold! She fired up straightaway! How wonderfully simple! Maria said she would send out a new switch as soon as she could. 

It came in about four days. So, when the e-mail was opened that morning which alerted us that the switch had been delivered by UPS, it was determined that it should be retrieved immediately so we could get back on track with our drying. 

Ah, but his is Rancho Relaxo where you just never know what will happen. When the Ol' Rancher went outside to fetch the switch, it wasn't there. That was interesting. A search was initiated and it was quickly noticed that there was packaging materials littering the front yard. It didn't take long to figure this mystery out. All it took was one look at a very guilty looking pooch sitting on the front porch. Fuzzy had immediately “taken delivery” of the package and even opened it for us (bless his heart). Anyway, the switch was recovered and taken inside for the next step. Good thing the switch didn't smell like a hamburger.

It only took a few minutes to install the new one and a few more to button up the back panel. Big Bertha is back in business! Well, it’s dryin’ time again…..(think Ray Charles).

Rancho Weedo

Lots of outside work to do around here. Most of the outside work that was supposed to be done during “spring cleaning” just didn’t get done. Most of the problem was that there are only twenty four hours in a day. The rest of the problem was that there were forty hours of work to be each day (that and there was a lazy rancher in the mix). What with all of this heat, it would take Superman to get most of it done in a reasonable time.

So, it was determined that, to try to overcome all of the inertia required to exit the the Ol’ Rancher’s “cool-as-a-clam comfort zone”, would be a waste of really-good-but-really-limited energy. Besides, there's "inside work" to be done, too and because of the heat, I still envisioned myself as having the strength of an un-weaned kitten. 

The solution? Hire someone who punishes and tortures himself for a living: the “yard work guy”. Time to rent some brawn. 

Thankfully, there just happened to be a new younger (than us) friend that has lots of muscles and who isn't afraid to swap sweat for shekels. Arrangements were made for him to begin the program of spiffing up Rancho Dumpo. When our helper is finished with the refurbishing of the ranch, our neighbors may think they have new neighbors and that the trashy old folks next door have moved to Texas (now, there's a thought). 

That was the correct decision because it has now been assessed that, not having a guilty conscience for exchanging money for comfort, is OK (as long as Connie the Canner doesn’t introduce me as “The Incredible Bulk”). Besides, Connie the Sew and Sew already made a really neat apron out of my Superman cape. 

In any event, this means that the Ol’ Rancher can conserve his exiguous super powers for a later date when the world needs to be saved (hope I remember Batman’s number. He’ll need my help, for sure).

This brings us to the conclusion which is that I love it when you can pay for someone else’s muscles. Of course, you always have to pay more for their muscles than you would pay yourself for using your muscles. I’m good with that. In fact, I think my iced tea tasted better, too. 

Dough Nots or No more dough for the dough!: The other day (when lots of things happen around here), we decided to take some donuts to my 95 year old mother. The best place to get them in Porterville is “Hergersheimers” (owned and operated by a Vietnamese family. Go figure) which is a small donut shop at Henderson Ave. and Porter Road at the strip mall there (“Franks” on Mill St. was another great place but they closed some years back). We hadn’t been there since before the insanity that started in 2020 so hadn’t kept up with the “price of rice”.

Donuts are not a staple at our place and never have been. On some occasions, we would grab a couple of them on the way to church and that was about it: a couple bucks and you’re on the road again. So, imagine, if you will, the shock on the Ol’ Rancher’s mug when he picked out two buttermilk, two old fashioned, and two plain glazed donuts, and the bill came to….$18.98 (try not to gasp. You’ll suck your donut down the wrong pipe)!

Folks.....this is more than "sticker shock". This is like forgetting to duck and walking smack into a low-hanging beam with your forehead. One dollar short of a twenty dollar bill! Sure, I remember the "dozen for a dollar" box of donuts. Sure, I remember when the "big donuts" were twenty-five cents each. I also remember when the big cinnamon rolls were fifty cents then, sometime later, a dollar. But...this!....this is way more than the "four percent inflation" that we were lied to about! The two chunks of sweetened dough we call "buttermilk donuts" were a tad less than four dollars each! In 2022, they were a dollar fifty! The "old fashion" donuts aren't big donuts and neither were the "plain glazed! They were two-fifty each! 

Needless to say, that'll be the last time I get donuts on purpose except, perhaps, for a special occasion (my mother's 96th birthday which is coming up soon). Donuts are a luxury and there a lot of luxuries out there that are far less expensive than donuts (the "New China" Chinese buffet is $11.95). 

Sizzlin’ or It’s Really Sweet to Eat: Not long ago, but longer than the other day, we had to make an unexpected trip to “Visalia”. The old folks that drive the blue Ford Freestar on such trips try to take advantage of such situations the best that they can so they try to scout about for things that can only be found in a…real town.

One of the “givens” was “Hometown Buffet” where we would stuff ourselves with a couple of day’s worth of vittles and then take a nap in the van. Sadly, they were a victim of the cruel and unlawful shutdown during the COVID situation and have since vacated the perfect location on Mooney Blvd. The last account that can be remembered is that the entire chain will likely be bankrupted. 

It was a good thing that the minivan driver (no relation to actress Minnie [cab?] Driver) remembered another great place that had recently recovered and had opened back up for business: “Sizzler Steak House”.

Though their steaks are good, the Ol' Rancher and his side-kook, usually opt for the all-you-can-eat salad bar. We have yet to be disappointed. Laugh, if you want but, this particular hungry guy never gets salad because he wants to make sure that there's room for the good stuff. That would be the  tacos, soups, baked potatoes, chili, pasta, and, depending upon how early you get there, left overs from the brunch menu. 

Being professionals, the job was done up right. The old folks tidied up and went about getting their business finished in Visalia. 

Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo (aka “Dos Acres”): home of Rancho Ran, the world's least-most greatest authority: home of the Yo-Yo  twins and  three ducks that we try to keep in a row (one of which is retarded): home of Connie the Canner, the world's greatest side-kook and CEE (Chief of Everything Else): where the air smells and where alliteration reigns supreme: where being modern is optional and where there are no slaves to fashion: where the eggs are always mostly fresh: where things can get...interesting: where it's all news to me and where...you just never know.

 

RANCHO BAKEO BLASTO

 

Greetings and welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for July. This month's issue is a wee less late this time. Things are still rather hectic around here, though. We're busier than an armadillo knee-deep in termites. Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the furnace-blasted foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. We're steel-braced now in the middle of what we call  "real heat" which just pounced on us today (113 degrees is real heat!).  Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo smoldering global headquarters.

Nice cones. These caution cones come from all over the place. We stumble into them at yard and estate sales and they do come in handy. Here, they are being used to protect the 1" irrigation riser so that it doesn't get run over....again. They keep to themselves and don't eat much so we got our money's worth. 

Here's the cutie chicks from last month. They're only a few days old here and below. As it turned out, we sold them to a guy up the hill from us. He took all ten for 10 bucks. That'll work. 

You can see below that we extracted them from their mother hen and put them in a separate enclosure. She took great exception to the robbery and resisted. I should recover before too long. 

More of our "Bundling Biddy Buddies" program. The girls seem to get along well so I just let them snuggle in the box. I wish that I had known more about how chickens think when I built the Henhouse Hilton. There would have been maybe ten or so laying boxes instead of 36. It wouldn't matter if I had a hundred chickens, they would still only use a dozen boxes. We did, in fact, have almost a hundred layers at one time a few years ago is how we know.

We recently had another fire in this nearby location about a mile from our place. They Forestry Service boys were on this thing like a duck on a June bug. It was extinguished in just a few hours (with an ensuing mop up). Here is one of the "Huey" helicopters "spot dropping" his load of water. Success Lake is only 3 miles to the west of the fire (the picture is taken looking almost due south) so they can haul as much water as they need to. 

Below is a four-engine BAE-146 water bomber on his way back to base (KPTV) after a drop. A few minutes prior, he flew directly over our house at about 300'. I've flown on two them so far. One was a PSA (Pacific Southwest Airlines - now defunct) flight from Fresno to Spokane and the other was from Accra, Ghana to Kumasi, Ghana (West Africa). It's my all-time favorite four-engine passenger jet. 

This happens a lot around these parts of the foothills. This dear little deer is trying to remain cool by hiding under this large solar panel installation. He appears to be more concerned with not cooking in the heat than being spotted by humans. Good call. 

Making a mess...again. My...my...my. I'm a sucker for a big mess of collard greens. The previous mess was whomped up not long ago (but longer than the other day). It was prepared with bacon which was certainly sufficient for the day. However, this is the way to do it up right so there had to be some re-whomping done. There's just nothing that can beat a smoked ham hock when cooking collards. You can get by using something else but you can't top the hock. After simmering for three hours, it was dinner time. 

It's summer time so it was haircut time for Fuzzy the fuzzball labra-doodle. He was a mess! His fur is so dense and matted that our doggie clippers wouldn't even touch it. That means you know who had to manually administer the clip job. I just keep clipping and pruning until Fuzzy sort of disappeared. This may be all that there is left of him!  Naw....this is just the aftermath of a really lousy haircut. Since he still looks like he was clipped by a bunch of fourth graders with dull shears, his needs will need to be readdressed soon. Until then, he has enough fur to just soak him down real good with a hose so that he's carrying his own swamp cooler with him.  So, Fuzzy Wuzzy isn't fuzzy, is he? 

Proof that the Ol' Rancher speaks the truth and  isn't exaggerating when he quoted the temperature. We had to go out in it for a while. We survived but relished getting back to our cool-as-a-cucumber homestead. We don't believe in elder abuse here at the rancho. 

 Tip of the Day:

 "Always drink upstream from the buffalo herd" - Heap Big Chief Take-a-Leak-in-a-Creek of the Heck-Ah-Wee tribe.

 

 And now a word from our sponsor:

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

Hokey smoke, Bullwinkle!! It's JULY and it's HOT! Half of this year is history!! What happened?! OK.....It's probably best to just skip this part. There would have been a lot of Rancho Ranting happening, otherwise. Moving along.....

I must admit that we were spoiled having such a mild winter and beautiful wet spring. But now, getting smacked in the mug by a blow torch when you step outside is about as welcomed as a cactus at a nudist colony. C'est la vie. Life goes on. It's not like this is my first summer to dwell in an coke kiln.  

Chickening report: You would think that there's not much else you can add to a story about chickens and eggs. Ah, but that isn't so. Something new (ahem) hatches in front of my face almost every time the coop door opens. Take for instance: the other day (when lots of things happen around here), when the weather was completely dry and there were no floods in our immediate area, Ol' Ran was greeted with a brand new deep flood! Ain't it great?! The good news is that it didn't take Sherlock Holmes or Albert Einstein to get to the bottom of things. "Someone" forgot that, when you water the oranges and other trees in the "back forty" (1.5 acres or so), most of the run off heads directly into the chicken coop! It's crazy because it's almost like someone (i.e. a different someone) dug a canal that leads directly to cackle central. Another chore and another long wait for the coop to dry out. *SIGH*. The irrigation was shut down so the flooding stopped. Perhaps we know who will be a bit more observant in the future. 

Thankfully, there was a small dry section at the rear where the dirty birdies' chicken chow could be doled out. Other than having to march around with muddy feet, they didn't seem to mind at all. What is important is that they get their grits on time or they're prone to use....fowl language (of course you wouldn't notice unless you're fluent in chickense, eh?). 

And, they are doing egg-sactly what they are supposed to do. They are laying really well now. For awhile, we thought that, either someone was snatching our eggs, or that they were unionizing. What's amazing is that we're having to deal with the abundance of huevos because "Big Bertha", the freeze dryer, has decided to abdicate her responsibility by committing suicide. Great. Just what we need. Usually, Connie the Freeze Dryer just blends them up really well and tosses them into the freeze dryer. The result is easy-to-store powdered eggs. We'll be selling some and giving some away for awhile. 

We used to have a string of clients from all over the place. Our layers provides us with at least four dozen eggs a day. We sold them at $3.00 per dozen so that provided some "pin money" for the Ol' Hen here at the house (netting more than $200.00 per month. Not too bad). 

Diggity Dog Report: No Rancho Relaxo Report would be complete without an update on our doggies. Abbie, the princess of and ruler of all things around here is doing great. I'm pleased to report that because, as you recall, she had a really rough winter. She chose off a local bobcat (she's never been fond of intruders and bobcats are at the top of that list, don'tcha know) who promptly used his razor-sharp claws to excise her hide in a number of places. She was placed inside for a few days until she felt like going out for a constitutional and some fresh air. Reckon she missed her classes on congeniality because she chose off the neighbor's bulldog who added a couple of seriously deep and long cuts in her hide. That took her out of action for another couple of weeks. Anyway, Abbie is just being Abbie for now while keeping an eye on Fuzzy as he romps around trying to disassemble anything that looks like it needs to be destroyed. 

Actually, he is doing better. I've only had to rewire "Wooly Pulley" three times in the previous year so he's doing better. He is in dire need of a "real" trim but, since he's not a show dog (he's a "show up" dog), he doesn't need a professional groomer. The aim is to just take a little time and hand trim him. We'll see. In any event, he's happy and healthy and that's the important thing. 

He was actually brought on board as a friend for Abbie. She's experiencing her ninth year on the planet so we thought that having a boisterous pup around would give her some exercise as well as a playmate. It's working out that way. 

Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo (aka “Dos Acres”): home of Rancho Ran, the world's least-most greatest authority: home of the Yo-Yo  twins and  three ducks that we try to keep in a row (one of which is retarded): home of Connie the Canner, the world's greatest side-kook and CEE (Chief of Everything Else): where the air smells and where alliteration reigns supreme: where being modern is optional and where there are no slaves to fashion: where the eggs are always mostly fresh: where things can get...interesting: where it's all news to me and where...you just never know.

RANCHO JULIO? JULIO?? JULIO??!!

 

Greetings and welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for June. This month's issue is late...again. Things appear to be rather hectic around here. We're busier than a coyote in a hen house. Anyway, the Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the dry-as-a-desert and toasted-brown-as-an-onion-bagel foothills in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. We're bracing for the real heat that's sure to pounce on us soon. Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo global headquarters.

Here's a shot of the Ol' Rancher trying to get the laptop at church up and running. It sometimes needs a good talkin' too so that it functions nominally and records teachings like an obedient recorder. He really hates disobedient laptops. 

I gave my Keurig to the church since it's quick and easy to brew up a cup there. That left me trying different ways to brew coffee. After trying to deal with Moka pots, French presses, and even an Ibrik (and making a big mess with all of them), Connie the Canner suggested (well, sort of suggested) that we go "old fashioned" and just brew my coffee in...get this...a coffee pot! She politely offered her genuine Corningware percolator (from her collection - she has the electric one, too!) and said, "Here. Use this". Danged if it doesn't work just fine! Who woulda thunk?! I can make it as strong as is necessary and it's also labor saving (meaning that it makes a lot more coffee at a time than the others). Such a deal! 

Time for the "cute factor" for the day. This is "Fluffy", our first baby birdy of the season and it was named by dear friend and sister,  Lois Brillhart in Mapleton, KS. Thanks, Sis! Four more followed this one by the end of the day. We have three other brooders who will be leading around a bunch of ex-eggs soon. I wish that we could let them free range but we learned long ago that is just isn't practical around here. There are too many predators who absolutely love free chicken dinners. We'll collect the little guys and put them in a big box in the kitchen like we always do. This time, though, we'll try to sell them. We have enough birds for now and don't want to shackled to the job of "chicken sitting" a hundred birds like we did a few years ago. 

Speaking of brooders, this is a shot of a couple of "bundled brooding biddy buddies". The white hen is the one you see in the picture above. She took charge right away but the little red hen is also tending the same hatchlings but does give way to the white one. First time we've seen this. There are several eggs under both of them. 

Wanna see my thumb....again? This is the same dumb thumb that was smashed in a car door and which lost its nail. When the replacement nail was fully grown, WHAM!...it stuck itself in front of a hammer. Stupid thumb! At least the nail won't fall off this time. 

A quick shot of the original "Trash Compactor". 

Not long ago (but longer than the other day), it was time to fire up some spuds. It was decided to enhance them by adding a ton of onions and green, yellow, and red bell peppers. What a smellabration! Connie dined on hers share like a normal human but I made breakfast burritos out of mine by adding some eggs and hot Mexican chorizo. My, but that was good! Next time it's gonna be southern because I love to get cozy with a hot serving of plain grits enhanced only with a knob of real butter! Oooooh, baby!

This is one of the "improvements" around the ranch. The Ol' Rancher is also an Ol' Hamster" which means he's a Ham radio operator (since 1971). (Looking east) The antenna on the left is a dual-band "Comet" VHF/UHF vertical that allows me to hit the "Blue Ridge" repeater with a readable signal (over the hill behind us and13 miles north). That allows for much longer range (than line-of-sight) when using the 25W Yeasu mobile/base transceiver that I use. I'll do some testing to see just how compatible is for GMRS operation which is in the 462-467mhz range just above what is used for UHF ham operation (440-447mhz). I have a UHF tuner so that should help a lot. The one on the right is an 19' 11M CB 5/8 wavelength vertical that is tuned with an MFJ-949E tuner. So far, it tunes down to 40M which is remarkable for such a short antenna. A half-wave 40M dipole is 66" long! Resonance on higher bands will be tried later, to be sure. In the near future, a smaller tripod will be

mounted for the "discone" scanner antenna for the ICOM R7000 receiver.

ICOM R7000 specs:  VHF-UHF receiver covers from 25 to 999 and 1025 to 2000 MHz 

This is just the beginnings of the WA6IXI station. Lots of gear (including VHF and UHF rigs) will be added. A dedicated HF SWR receiver may be chucked in as well as a dedicated high performance VHF/UHF receiver (ICOM R-7000). For now, it consists of some parts and pieces being thrown together to see what works and what doesn't. None of this equipment has been used in ten years (I've been on VHF/UHF and not HF). As it turns out, the big black Astron power supply at the top is defective! I don't have time to crack the box and deal with it so I dragged out the 35Amp "Pyramid" power supply and fired it up. The IC-735 HF transceiver in the picture awakened quite nicely as did the HF IC-706MKIIG (off to the left on the shelf). Sitting on top of the 735 is the trusty (and a bit dusty) MFJ-949E antenna tuner. It tunes the vertical antenna that you see above. I have a couple of other tuners if this one doesn't want to work for a living. 

This is how you find the resonance of any particular antenna. It's an MFJ-269C professional antenna analyzer. In this shot, it's trying to find the "sweet spot" of one of my several mobile ham antennas. A couple of them aren't labeled other than with the makers name (e.g. "Hustler"). So, they need to be analyzed prior to being used. You can see that this one resonates far outside of the usual 12M ham band. It has an adjustable "stinger" so it may be trimmed to meet the needs. It's doubtful that the 12M band will be used much so it may end up being tuned for the 10M band which would only require shortening the stinger a bit. We'll see. 

Tip O' The Day: 

"When traversing Bigfoot mating areas, stay on the marked trail and do not make eye contact" - Twitter

And now a word from our sponsor:

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

It's June? It's June?! How can it be June already?!!! June has pounced on us like a rat on a Cheese Doodle! That's enough to make a man squall 'til fall!! That's another spring that has  sprung and whizzed past before I could even recognize it! *SIGH*. Moving along.........

There shall be showers of blessings! or Load'em up!: 

The other day (when lots of things happen around here), after church, we stopped at an estate sale that was less than a mile away (nothing uncommon about that). We met a native Porter'villain (sic) named Doyle who was tending the liquidation of his parent's estate. We found much favor with our new friend and brother and he began to bless us tremendously. 

That first day, we loaded up the back of the van with our usual "stuff" but he only charged us a pittance for the entire pile! None of it was "junk"! There were even some collectibles in the mix! He advised that he would be there the next week and to return. We did that and he blessed us again! There was another load made and he all but didn't charge us! If that wasn't enough to thaw your igloo, he advised us to return the next week! We did that, too! When we pulled in and got our of the van, he greeted us, pointed to the garage, and stated, "Take whatever you want. It all has to go". 

Well...we had to ask to be excused so we could go fetch "Wooly Pully", our 5' x 8' trailer! When we returned, not only did we end up with most of the stuff in the garage, he kept going back into the house and returning with more and more goodies!! The last thing to be loaded on top of everything else, was a handsome blonde custom built book shelf that his father crafted. It had to be strapped on top because there was no room in the trailer! 

All of the racking, packing, stacking, loading, lugging, and hauling was taxing on our old airframes (where's Maynard G. Krebbs when you need him?) and that ended up giving us unimpressive thermal efficiency numbers which then required a nap to resolve. We didn't even unload when we got home. It was nap time. We'll get over it in time. 

It'll take quite awhile to "count our blessings" (and quite some time to find a place to park it all) but we really really enjoy being blessed!! 

Treat time: Until now, I had no use for strawberry ice cream. NONE. The only time I ate it on purpose was when it was part of a Neapolitan ice cream serving than I would moosh it all together so I wouldn't have to see it. But.....Connie the Canner just served me a bowl of vanilla ice cream with a ton of fresh strawberries on it and ....WOW....what a treat! Strawberry ice cream is my friend!

Ham Radio Report: I finally got my duck (the retarded one) in a row and got my ham radio station up and running. That only took ten years. There’s some really good news concerning it, too. 

Though I truly prefer a horizontal dipole wire antenna (or it's cousin, the "inverted Vee" dipole), I’m having to use a 19' 5/8 wavelength CB/11M vertical antenna. This will have to do until I can get the 105' off-center fed "Windom" dipole mounted. Most likely, it'll be tethered to the tower behind the barn. 

It was doubtful that the vertical would tune down to the 40 meter ham band but the Ol' Hamster was smiling mighty biggly when it tuned even further down the ham band spectrum than anticipated. She'll even tune down to 3.5mhz (80 meters) with a decent SWR!

Of course, none of this would have happened had there not been an old man clambering about on his roof in the middle of the day trying to assemble a mess of metal and make it look usable again. What a sight to see. And, of course, you just know that he would drop some of his tools and mounting hardware down the steep roof, eh? Some of the flight of the recalcitrant hardware was arrested by the gutter. That did help maintain a good mood but it was still "monkey time" for the old guy who had to scamper down to retrieve his goods. 

Connie the Canner, ever vigilant to watch over her septuagenarian hubby, manned the "watcher's post" in the back yard which had a clear view of the erection. She made sure that her elevated adventurer didn't cause her to suffer a "code brown" exigency. In her mind, she was dealing with a roof climber who only had the confidence of dentist, Dr. Jesse W. Heywood (Don Knotts, "Shakiest Gun in the West"). Silly granny. In my mind, my Superman cape was fresh back from the cleaners and it was time to rock!  

The big tripod had to be mounted first. That required screwing the feet down to the roof with two long special screws with rubber washers. Then, a liberal dose of "Wet Patch" roofing tar was slathered on to seal things up and protect it from the weather.  

The good news is that the antenna can be tuned on most bands above 3.5mhz. I say "most bands" because I've not yet been able to tune it on 10 meters (a different tuner will be used) and I can't tune it on 30 meters until I rewire my code keyer. 

For some reason my "straight key"  (don't go there) isn't being correctly recognize by the transceiver (don't go there, either). When the two-wire key is plugged in, it auto-keys and sends un-commanded "DAH's" instead of waiting until the key is depressed. The control panel knobs, buttons, sliders, and switches are all in the correct places so I'm not sure what that's all about. The previous owner was primarily a "CW" operator so the rig should be "plug and play" for the keyer. So, the auto-keyer, which has a three-wire connector, needs to be wired up. The hardware is available (I think I have 4 auto-keyers so I'll need to build 4 sets of wires) but the priority is not so it'll have to wait a couple of more days so I can try again. The soldering iron is at hand. 

The next antenna project (unless I can first get a small tripod for the "discone" scanner antenna) will be to mount the 105’ off-center fed Windom horizontal dipole. One end will be anchored to the 60’ crank-up tower (soon to be raised) and the other to either the tripod that the vertical is mounted on or to the ex-basketball pole out by the driveway.  If the pole is used, it will need to have at least a 30’ pushup so that it’ll clear the roof of the house. That would actually make it an "inverted Vee" dipole but that's fine since I'm dealing and "NVIS" environment (near vertical incidence skywave). The "inverted Vee" is a good antenna for such use. So far, “eyeball” measuring has been used so nothing is exact. It’ll be dialed in as soon as  is practicable. 

Diggity Dog Report or How to Make a Hot Dogs Cool Again: There just hasn't been enough time to get Fuzz Dogg a haircut so he's been a lot warmer because of having to wear his winter coat during the first part of summer. The best that can be done for now is to hose him down really well and make a swamp cooler out of him. He doesn't seem to mind at all. Other than that, he's doing well.

Abby is her normal princess self and loves her pal, Fuzzball. They cavort and frolic a lot except when they are snoozing during the day. That leaves them with plenty of energy to stay up all night and guard Rancho Relaxo. Uh-huh. 

Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo (aka “Dos Acres”): home of Rancho Ran, the world's least-most greatest authority: home of the Yo-Yo  twins and  three ducks that we try to keep in a row (one of which is retarded): home of Connie the Canner, the world's greatest side-kook and CEE (Chief of Everything Else): where the air smells and where alliteration reigns supreme: where being modern is optional and where there are no slaves to fashion: where the eggs are always mostly fresh: where things can get...interesting: where it's all news to me and where...you just never know.

RANCHO MIO MAYO

Greetings and welcome to the "Rancho Relaxo" blog for May. This month's issue isn't so late as the previous one. That doesn't mean that things aren't hectic around here. We're busier than the first hog at the trough! The Ol' Rooster and Ol' Hen just wanted to share what's happening here at our humble rancho nestled in the rapidly deteriorating glory of our beautiful foothills in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Our regal flower blooms have dropped off but our bees are still busy bees (but the heavy lifting is over with). We'll check our boxes for honey when we can get to it. Thanks for dropping in at the Rancho Relaxo global headquarters.

 

Note: click on the pictures to enlarge them.

This is Connie the Baker's rendition of Carmel Nut Coffee Cake. All it took for me to be addicted to these things was one bite! 

If you want to be a hero at the next family reunion or potluck, here's the recipe. You won't be disappointed! 

This is rather noteworthy to those who don't live in the southwest. It's an entire row of 5 shelves (with an end cap of 7 shelves) devoted solely to tortillas. We keep both corn and flour tortillas on hand. Tortillas are our friends! 

Don't buy it!! This is Fuzzy Dog who wants you to think that he's a cute, little, humble, patient, and well-mannered, and obedient pooch! It's an act and it's all nonsense! He is a boisterous, bouncing, presumptuous,

always hungry (despite there being no lack of calories tossed his way), attention hogging, wayfaring (but held in check with an electric collar), nosy, ornery, too smart for his own good, doggy! But......I love this little knuckle-headed canine clown. He's a hoot! Even though he's the Dennis the Menace of dogs, I can't help loving this headstrong pup. He'll look more presentable when I get to the shears and whack some fuzz off of him so that he's ready for warmer weather. 

This is Lucky Ducky with Doofus Duck in tow. Doofus, it turns out, wasn't laying eggs like Lucky Ducky was because he's a male (amazing how that works). At first, there seemed to be no obvious way to resolve the "no eggs" issue so it was decided to consult the  oracle known as "The All Knowing Google". Seems that male Pekin ducks' tails will have a little "flip up" curl at the end. Yep. The duck's tail had the curl. So, his name was changed from Darla Darla Fo Farla to Doofus. That's mainly due to the fact that that's the way he acts in the coop. An alternate name would have been "Toopid Duck" but Doofus works for now. 

The other day, we stopped a a yard sale and ran into at least a half-dozen peacocks and   peahens! Porterville used to have a few of them around back in the late '50's and early '60's but I didn't know that there were any still hanging around. This pretty boy did spread his tail but I wasn't able to have a camera ready at the time. 

Wanna see my whipped cream? This is  

in case the Ol' Rancher wants to pretend that

he's a ten year old who wants to have 

his own entire can of whipped cream. "So, what's the 

second can for?", you may ask. It's in case he decides

to pretend to be ten more than once. 

                                                                                  

 

Tip o’ the day:

“Build a man a fire, and he's warm for an hour. Set a man on fire, and he's warm for the rest of his life” - Ward Clark (“RedState” journalist)

And now a word from our sponsor:

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

                                THE RANCHO RELAXO REPORT

Holy cherry flavored psych meds, Batman! It’s May! Can you believe it?! It’s only 234 days until Christmas (is it OK to be dismayed in…May?)! Time is whizzing by as fast and as inexorably as a brakeless B&N freight train headed downhill on Cajon Pass! 

Movin’ along….We’re hectic and busy around here as always. In fact, we're about as busy as a loose pig at a luau! We’re cookin’, cannin’, and freezin’ with the best of them while we chase our bird herd and two diggity dogs (my, but Fuzzy can dig holes!). But, it’s better than having the neighbors call the cops to do wellness checks on us every few days.

Other than suffering from late-stage adulthood, we’re doing pretty well. The ability to daily articulate, formulate, masticate, medicate, meditate, micturate, postulate, punctuate, promulgate, perambulate, alliterate, and all those other “ates” without assistance is more than greatly appreciated. 

 Something Leeky This Way Comes or Taking a Leek: Once in a while, you simply must do what you simply must do. In this case, there were two big beautiful leeks quietly sitting on our kitchen counter apparently waiting to be stored in a cool dark place. I don’t trust quiet leeks for a minute so I immediately beheaded both of them, whacked them into small pieces and then, for good measure, I boiled them into submission. There was no negotiation or appeal.

Now, potatoes are my friends and, as quiet, unassuming, and harmless as they may be, a couple of them had to be sacrificed for the cause. So, it was “Off with their skins!” and they too were sliced and diced and chucked into the calmly awaiting cauldron. Add salt and boil a spell.

A chicken bouillon cube was tossed into the leeky pot followed by a couple cloves of ajo (ajo = garlic) and a “whatever” amount of salt. After everything was boiled to perfection, about three-fourths of it was poured into the blender along with a cup of heavy cream and made into a purée. Then the other fourth was mixed in which made for a marvelous smooth-but-with-bumps potato and leek soup. 

Add a small round loaf of buttered (real butter) sourdough bread, a spoon, and, bingo! It’s dinner time. Oh, man! That stuff was so good that I had to remind myself to eat until I was full and not until I was tired!

More food or We're talkin' Pot Luck: Speaking of good food, the other day (uh-huh), we were invited to another potluck (am I the only one who never tires of potlucks?). Dear friend and brother, Charlie Morrell, was back in town for a week to take care of some personal matters so it was “Jam Time” in Porterville. Arrangements were made to meet at the “Colonial Community Homes” at Morton and Westwood where he and his wife, Marney, used to live prior to moving to Tennessee (Daniel Boone country, as I recall).

Well, you can’t have a jam session without having a potluck now, can you? Heck no! So, everyone pitched in and built one of the best potlucks you can possibly have at a jam session  (you starving musicians know what I’m talking about!)! 

In the book of “Third Randy”, it says “Man does not live by bread alone; he has to have beans and ham hocks at least now and again!”.  So, it's not a secret that the Ol’ Rancher is quick to whomp up a huge pot of pinto beans and ham hocks for any good reason (or for any bad reason, for that matter)! A good jam session is a mighty fine reason, so out came the apron and the bean pot. When the beans were cooked to perfection, they were placed on the stove to "cure" in the pressure cooker until the next day.

There was no end to the fabulous array of food that night! It's been a long while since we had been to such a gala! It was a grand night to fling a fork. You can bet that not a single person left there hungry that night!

After the feast, we fired up the amps and set to having a good time pickin’ and grinnin’ like we used to do, oh so many years ago. Charlie pulled out his song list and we had at it.

Ol’ Ran, the Bean Man, is also Ol’ Ran the Bass Man so the ol’ Fender Precision Bass was hauled out and hooked up. Charlie had to travel light so he played rhythm and lead on my Fender Telecaster. When he switched to an acoustic guitar, I played lead guitar on the Tele and dear friend and bass player (and fellow bean eater), Bob Bartlett, played bass the rest of the evening. Long time friend and lead guitar picker, Jim Duggins (beans are his friends, too!), was also there with his Fender Telecaster so we all had a great time!

Jim, Charlie, Bob, and I have played music together for most of 25 years so it was as much a family reunion as it was a jam session. No doubt about it; we had a grand time! When it was time to “stow and go”, we all agreed that we simply must do this again! The good Lord willing and the Creek don’t rise (they won’t. They’re too busy minding the casinos and taking the white man’s money), we will do just that.

 Not through eating yet: Because Charlie hasn’t been in Porterville in quite awhile (they moved to Tenn.), he wanted to knock over a couple of his favorite restaurants while here. One of those places was “El Nuevo Mexicali II” on N. Prospect where he ordered up a big bowl of albondigas soup (Mexican meat ball soup). It was a delight to his soul.

When it was my turn to pick a plate, the pozole (Mexican hominy) soup was chosen. This was because I had been to this particular restaurant many times and only selected their taco combo plate almost every time. And, I hadn’t had a big bowl of the stuff in years.

Pozole has the same basic soup base as menudo but the main ingredient is pork or chicken instead of beef tripe. Traditionally, the main meat ingredient is a pork knuckle or hock. An excellent second choice is shredded or chopped/cubed pork shoulder. Chicken is also a hit with the hungry. 

When the big bowl was delivered and set down in front of me, it was evident that something wasn’t right. Other than the hominy, it didn’t even look like the previous bowls of pozole that I had eaten. The soup base was brown and not reddish meaning that they didn’t use chili powder in the recipe. That won’t work for me. Straying so far from the fabulous recipes that work well just isn't a good thing. In fact, it's almost impossible to screw this soup up and I didn't even think it was possible until now. 

It didn’t take long to make a decision to reject this imposter dish. After one sip of the soup and after just looking at the very small, darkish, dense, unidentifiable piece of meat (seriously. There was no way to tell what it was), I called a halt to this culinary catastrophe.   

I had to advise the server that “I can’t eat this. This isn’t edible. And, I can’t even tell what kind of meat is in it (one small chintzy peace in a 10 dollar dish)! It looks like road kill. I don’t know what this is but, after having eaten pozole for decades, I know that this isn’t pozole. It’s supposed to have a large ham hock in it". She took it back.

The reorder was for the same albondigas soup that Charlie had ordered. It was OK but it didn't do wonders for my soul. It's not likely to be on my menu again. In fact, after the mediocre food from the previous four times or so, it isn’t likely that the Yo-Yo twins will return to this restaurant. There are too many really good restaurants in Porterville to have to endure lousy Mexican food. 

Soup’erman or Ol’ Rancho Ran brews again:

Ten years ago, Rancho Ran experienced a myocardial infarction. It was the classic “MI” with all (as in all) of the classic symptoms being presented. After all of the drama was over and normality set in, Connie the Seamstress (I was going to title her “Connie the Sew and Sew” but I think I may have spared myself a few of bruises this way) took my mighty handsome “Superman” cape and modified it into a tidy apron. That means that I can now be a super cook, don'tcha know! 

Since we’ve had an abundance of veggies as of late, it seemed a shame to let them go to the chickens or to waste. The best way to handle that situation came when Connie the canner suggested making a couple of pots of soup so she could can them. That sounded like a plan to Ol’ Ran.

The first big ol' pot consisted of cabbage, potato, onion, white kidney bean, and kielbasa sausage. This is a pretty standard cabbage recipe so there's not much to brag about. Of course, you can't can it until you first take it for a test drive, eh? That meant more sourdough bread and butter was dragged out for the event. Guess what? It passed the test with flying colors! Connie canned the remainder. 

Then, there was the cabbage, butternut squash, potato, heavy garlic, salt, a touch of thyme, and cannellini beans (basically, white kidney beans) soup. This was unscripted but not far from an off-the-shelf cabbage recipe. It too was brewed then sampled a few times to make sure that it was fit for canning. It was,  so the several jugs of the two soups were parked on a shelf in a cool dark place. 

 Ain't That Just Ducky? Ever since we took in our our two ducks, we've been blessed with the one we call "Lucky Ducky". That's because she has been a blessing by being a consistent layer of really nice big eggs. We've been waiting for the other duck, who we named, Darla Darla Fo Farla, to follow suit and add to the pile of eggs around here. That would at least mean that she has been earning her keep. This quacker isn't a bit shy about chowing down with the chickens but not laying so we know that she's not earning her oats. 

The only conclusions that we could come to was that, either the duck had a personal problem or it was a male and we were asking way too much of it. Now, you’d think that the Ol’ Rancher would have consulted the “crystal ball” (i.e. “Google”) a lot sooner than now but, sadly, he didn’t. Not surprisingly, all it took was a quick check on "YouTube" and the duck gender issue was resolved.

The key to sexing a Pekin duck is that the tip of the male’s tail will invariably have an upward curl in it while the female’s tail will not. How simple is that?! So, don’t I feel silly? Therefore, the duck has a new name: "Doofus" because he follows Lucky Ducky around like a puppy. This also means that he'll need a new home soon since we don't cotton to freeloading fowls around here. The wheels are turning. 

Shear pleasure: Our Labra-Doodle, Fuzzy Dog (Rancho Relaxo's answer to the Yeti) and Abby the Wander Dog, have been on the perimeter limiting electric shock collar. However, not long ago (but longer than the other day), we discovered that, if the battery in Abby's collar is dead and she sneaks off somewhere, Fuzz Ball will follow her without suffering a shocking reprisal. After a bit of checking, we were able to solve the mystery. 

The first mystery was that his collar wasn't quite as tight as it should be. Ah, but there was another issue that  kept his collar from being correctly positioned. His fur coat is so thick that the contact prongs on his collar weren't actually making contact. He could hear the warning buzzer but he wasn't being shocked when he violated the perimeter. Time for a fix. 

The object was to whack the fur around Fuzzy's neck so that the prongs could contact his skin. All that was necessary was to grab a pair of heavy duty sharp scissors and git'r done. But, we're talking Fuzzy, the goofball dog, who isn't about to humbly submit to a simple haircut. Oh, no. Not today. Instead, he simply played dead. No training...no nothing. He just flopped down and died. 

It took awhile of pushing, pulling, prying all the while trying to whack away at this totally limp four-legged hay stack. But, the task of chopping off the locks around his neck was finally accomplished. The collar is still not cinching down enough but it seems to work for now. 

Fuzzy's fur has gotten out of hand but it's my fault. His tonsorial issues should have been addressed much earlier before he morphed into a densely matted Persian rug. It'll take quite some time to make him presentable. But, he's going to have to pay attention and behave and stop being a goofball or he could "accidently" end up as an Amazon return. 

Well....there you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo (aka “Dos Acres”): home of Rancho Ran, the world's least-most greatest authority: home of the Yo-Yo  twins and  three ducks that we try to keep in a row (one of which is retarded): home of Connie the Canner, the world's greatest side-kook and CEE (Chief of Everything Else): where the air smells and where alliteration reigns supreme: where being modern is optional and where there are no slaves to fashion: where the eggs are always mostly fresh: where things can get...interesting: where it's all news to me and where...you just never know.