Nature's TV.. doesn't disappoint

I just saw something (minutes ago) that made me stop in my tracks and watch. I never really paid that much attention to them until this evening.
I got back from town a lil' while ago and noticed something zing by, over my shoulder. We're covered in lil' birds, since placing four custom built feeders near our pavilion. So I just figured.. lil' bird.. enjoy the feast.
Then, I heard something. It sounded like a big mosquito. You know the type you hear on a summer evening, while sitting on the patio. Hmmmmmmmm.. Hmmmmmmmm.. Hmmmmmmmm. Then, there it was again. Zing! I'm not old, but old enough to be a lil' slow on the turnaround, if ya know what I mean. So, I missed it.
But then.. there it went again. This time, I swirled around just in time. Just in time to spill my evening beverage, step on the dog and drop my bird seed. But, I saw it. Or should I say, I saw them. There were two of them performing some sort of dogfight in the sky or maybe it was a dance. I dunno. But, it was fun to watch. One had an orange collar, but keep in mind I'm color blind. The other seemed kinda dull... but both were very fast. They'd hover, then dart, then chase.. then ZING!
I became so engrossed watching these dueling Hummingbirds that I didn't even hear the turkeys gobbling--just on the otherside of the fence.
It's odd. Until Dec. 26th when I moved out here, I'd no more pay attention to Hummingbirds, lil' birds or even big birds than I would rush hour traffic. It just wasn't part of the day.
Now, it's everyday and it beats the heck outta anchoring the news.
That's another story. For now, come join me on the pavilion's front or back porch. I guarantee nature's TV never disappoints and there's never a rerun.
Bill Robertson

Gardening's Hard Work

Just an update today. Gardening's hard work. I went to work today on our vegetable garden. The other day, I planted some peas or maybe they were beans and they're looking good. But today, I started preparing the veggie garden in earnest.
Who knew working a hoe was such a pain in the neck.. and arms.. and back? Good grief. What did farmers do before the tiller?
Anyway, we have a garden started. The plan is; grow our own stuff, use it in our kitchen and become a self-sustaining operation. The rub is: I'm the gardner.
The back, rock patio's all finished. Looks great. It's gonna be a great place for morning coffee or to get out of the heat and wind in the afternoon.
Soon, we're gonna stain the pavilion floor--just gotta get the stuff from Pennsylvania. Then, it's gutters for the back of the pavilion.
Meantime, move over Mr. Green Jeans. Watch out garden-here I come!
Bill Robertson

My Mother's allergic to wind

I spoke to my mother today. She says she's allergic to wind. That's why whenever she comes to visit her neck hurts. Apparently, an eastern Indian guru in Albuquerque told her so. I told her she'll have to stay in the car the next time she comes to west Texas.. more later.
I gotta a project update for you. I moved 6,000 lbs of flat rock w/in the last 48 hours. Ya see, we're puttin' in a rock pation behind our pavilion. It's about 50'x12'. It looks great and what a place to 'chill out' in the morning or the evening.
We also just finished puttin' up about four 'rustic' bird feeders. Now, I have about 200 birds swarming the place for a good meal. It's kinda like watching fish. They move in.. move out.. chirp... splash around.. then repeat. It's very thereapeutic(sp).
The next biggie is staining the pavilion's concrete floor. We picked a color called Spanish Brown. The good news is the guys at the hardware store told me it's real nice. The bad news is; I'm color blind. It could be a mess. I'll let you know.
Now back to the wind allergy. Can you imagine someone born and raised in this part of the world being allergic to wind? Turns out, she's now supposed to drink cold liquids, either. Sounds like a bunch of hindu mumbo/jumbo to me.
Bill Robertson

The Tent Life

You've heard the expression "the good life"? I think there's even a song by that title. I'm hear to tell you about the "tent life."
The Windmill Ranch isn't your ordinary getaway. Sure, we have quaint, rustic houses trimmed out to the 9s. But the real getaway is our giant tents. Now, I'm happy to say they can indeed withstand a west Texas wind storm.
If you've read any of my previous blogs, you know about tents1,2 &3. They're big.. real big. They each have full baths, complete with sink, shower and toilets (electric). Tent 1 & 2 are so big that they each come with two, full sized beds, dressers or armoirs (sp)... oh yeah, each has plenty of electricity.
But now the best part is.. all three took everything west Texas had to offer (for two, straight days) and stood the test. The winds whipped up to a gazillion mph hour for nearly 48-straight hours. The tents didn't crumble or blow away.
So if you come to visit, you're certainly welcome to one of our rooms (each with private baths), decorated with native antiques, appointed with fine linens and cowhide rugs on the floor. Or, you can enjoy the tent life and know that it IS a tent.. but it ain't your grandfather's tent.
If nothing else.. you gotta try the electric potty.
Bill Robertson

Mequite, scissortails and thief ants

Apparently spring has sprung in west Texas. I gotta tell you about some of the sure fire signs that we're safe to plant our crops, our gardens, our anything.
First of all, my friend Max (who says he knows nothing about plumbing, but knows it all) says; "it ain't spring until the mesquite trees bud out." Well Max, I got news for you. The mesquite at the Windmill Ranch Preserve are buddin' out!!
Another sure sign that the season's changing is the arrival of the scissortails. They're here! Not many, but definitely a few. You can't miss 'em. They use their 'scissor' tails to speed up, slow down and change direction.
And finally, the thief ants are back. I didn't know what they were until Burr Williams from Midland visited the other day. He said, "yep, you got thief ants and that's good." I didn't know why, but Burr said so and that's good enough for me. Seriously though, the arrival of the thief ants means the soil is warming and they're ready to open their tunnels and holes.
So there you have it. The mesquite are blooming, the scissortails are arriving and the thief ants are digging. And one more sure sign that it's spring in west Texas.. the wind is blowing and blowing and blowing.
Bill Robertson

Playing Possum

I've heard it all my life. I bet you've heard it too. But not until the other night have I seen 'playing possum' done by a professional.
I had gone to bed. Or at least, I was trying to go to bed. But my two dogs, Curley & Lola, kept barking. Usually, this doesn't get my attention. They're both known to bark at shadows, grass blowing in the wind, even the ol' windmill when it creaks in the breeze. But on this night, it sounded somehow different.
So, I got up and looked out my window. There was Curley (a black Cocker Spaniel) standing guard over something. I couldn't make it out. It kinda looked like a cat. Curiousity got the best of me and I got up to investigate.
You need to know that when Curley's eating or guarding over some downed prey, he can be a lil' unbalanced. So, I gave myself a wide berth around this mysterious creature downed and guarded by my sometimes 'not right in the head' lil' dog. Then, I saw it.. just laying there.. kinda roughed up... it was a possum.. not moving a muscle.. but something didn't look right.
At this point, I knew two things. One, I wasn't gonna touch it and two.. Curley and Lola needed to go into their locked kennels. Lola always goes in w/out any trouble. But Curley wasn't about to leave his post.
The only way to get Curley away from the possum was to lure him away with a hotdog. One bite, then two.. then, I had 'em joyfully following me to his kennel. And that's when I saw the professional go to work to save his life.
Just as Curley let down his guard and turned his back, that possum slowly got off the ground and silently scampered off to find cover. I stood there a moment and said out loud.. "So, that's playing possum."
Bill Robertson