Tractor Day!

Finally! After six months of moving everything from rock to mulch by shovel and wheelbarrow, we have a new tractor out here at the WRP. It's a beauty. And finally, my kids are here to enjoy all the ranch has to offer. And today, it was "everybody gets to drive the new tractor day."
The funny thing about kids (at least mine) is; they're all different. I have four; Jeff (19), Georgia (17), Jack (14) and Joe (11). Each of them has a different personality. And it's never been more obvious than today while each got behind the wheel of the new tractor.
First, Jack took the wheel. He's the punctual type.. very coachable.. always trying to do exactly what you instruct. Sure enough, he climbed on board, never took it out of second gear, stayed within the boundaries and stopped after a very reasonable amount of time.
Then came Jeff (the oldest). He's the artist of the group.. very mellow. Well go figure, his time behind the wheel kinda looked like rehearsal for an upcoming production. He'd start, stop, start again, weave a little, get back in line and then do it all over again. He did very well.
Next up was Joe. He's the youngest, the daredevil, the "I know, I know, I know" kid. All smiles.. laissez faire.. what's the big deal. The same attitude applied to the tractor. I hadn't turned my back for less than :15 when I turned around and saw him hanging by the rollbar and driving with his feet! But I gotta admit, he didn't hit anything.. not even close.
Finally, Georgia (my only daughter) took her turn. She'd just returned from town wearing a light colored sundress and a new pedicure. But that didn't stop her. She climbed right up in the bucket set, fired up the diesel, popped the clutch (nearly knocked me to the ground) and took off on her practice run. She's a great driver, on and off road.
It was definitely one of those times that I'll never forget. It was certainly a 'kodak' moment. The good news is, I can sit on the porch while each of them takes a turn. But if you're stopping by, watch out for the kid driving with only his feet.
Bill Robertson

The gang's all here & what an adventure

If you've followed my other blogs, you know that I've been at the ranch since Jan. 1st. But, my family's been back in Tennessee, waiting for the school year the end. The great news is; the gang's finally all here. The bad news is; the moving company ripped apart our furniture.
But truthfully, the many damages don't really matter. However, it is a big bummer that an amoire or a chest that's easily 200 yrs old and made many, many moves is now in pieces. To watch my wife's face that day as the movers kept saying, "you better come see this" was really upsetting. Still, it's all here and more importantly... they're all here.
As of tonight we just finished hosting a meeting for an upcoming festival meeting. My bosses are my mother, my wife and the downtown co-chairs. I'd call the meeting a tremendous success. Besides the wonderful attendance and good times, the presentation was absolutely fabulous. I gotta give kudo's to my wife, Susan.
Susan's the type of 'creator' who can make something out of nothing. She's amazing when it comes to displays and presentations. I've always told her; "If you could design one rich woman's bathroom--I could be a stay @ home dad for the rest of my life."
Anyway, she did it again.. made a wonderful presentation and fun was had by all. But the truth is, she could have delivered a bomb (cheez its w/ cheese in a can) and I'd be thankful that they were here.
Bill Robertson

The gang's all here & what an adventure

If you've followed my other blogs, you know that I've been at the ranch since Jan. 1st. But, my family's been back in Tennessee, waiting for the school year the end. The great news is; the gang's finally all here. The bad news is; the moving company ripped apart our furniture.
But truthfully, the many damages don't really matter. However, it is a big bummer that an amoire or a chest that's easily 200 yrs old and made many, many moves is now in pieces. To watch my wife's face that day as the movers kept saying, "you better come see this" was really upsetting. Still, it's all here and more importantly... they're all here.
As of tonight we just finished hosting a meeting for an upcoming festival meeting. My bosses are my mother, my wife and the downtown co-chairs. I'd call the meeting a tremendous success. Besides the wonderful attendance and good times, the presentation was absolutely fabulous. I gotta give kudo's to my wife, Susan.
Susan's the type of 'creator' who can make something out of nothing. She's amazing when it comes to displays and presentations. I've always told her; "If you could design one rich woman's bathroom--I could be a stay @ home dad for the rest of my life."
Anyway, she did it again.. made a wonderful presentation and fun was had by all. But the truth is, she could have delivered a bomb (cheez its w/ cheese in a can) and I'd be thankful that they were here.
Bill Robertson

8:03am = Nature's rush hour

What time do hit the road for work every morning? Think about. Is it 5:00, 6:00, 7:00 or 8:00? If it's 8:00, you're probably always late.
Well, I've decided nature's rush hour is at precisely 8:03am. They're not late because they're not really going anywhere. Of course, I'm kiddin' about the nature time thing but it sure seemed that way one day earlier this week.
Here's what happened. I was driving over the Max's house. Before I ever pulled out of our gate, I nearly ran over about 10-quail crossing the road and 15-rabbits darting in a serpentine fashion. Meantime, the dove by the flock came zooming in out of the northwest--probably heading to water at "Josie's Tank" to the southeast... all that happened before the gate.
Then at precisely 8:03am, I know the time because it was so much of a fun thing that I instinctively looked at the ol' Chevy's clock to mark the time (too bad I don't remember the exact day) here's what happened. I turned east, came up a slight hill and saw her to my left. Then in an instant, the big doe dashed into the road and over the southside fence.. almost in one stride. Then, it happened again. Another doe, a lil' smaller, hopped onto the road and just as easily cleared the southside fence. Then, they disappeared.
But that's not all. Almost immediately after my dose of deer, I turned north and hit the brakes for a lone tom turkey, casually strolling across the county road. This really surprised me. Because he didn't hustle one bit. He kinda looked at me as if to say, "I got the right of way buddy.. hold on."
Oh there's more. Keep in mind, it's still 8:03. After that tom, I glance to my east. There were about 20 more turkeys. All of 'em heading in the same direction as the tom.
By now, I'm thinking 8:03's a pretty good time to get and about if ya wanna see something you don't see everyday. The rub is 8:03's just 8:03 in the big city. But around here, 8:03's a pretty busy place and nature has the right of way.
Bill Robertson

Fighting back the water

This blog's not gonna make sense unless I explain something first. That is, this area is arid. By arid I mean dry. Sometimes very try. But that's not to say it's not green and teeming with wildlife and plantlife. Not all, we're overun with countless varieties of game and wildflowers out of ears. There are so many different types of flowers that I've named 'em "here'sanotheroneofthose" and "Ilikethesebigonesthebest."
But back to fighting the water... See, it's like this. This area takes less than a 1/4" to spawn new wild growth. Unfortunately, it takes even less to spawn a potentially watery mess for me around our "people's place."
This old earth is hard. You'd think it would immediately soak up any moisture. Not at all! Rain, of any amount, floats on the ground before disappearing. And if we get pummeled by a quick moving, violent storm---we gotta be on water patrol.
When you come visit, you'll more than likely never see all the 'water traps' we've created to tame the much needed aqua. But, I think for me--it'll be an endless chore.
For example; Recently, we had two nights of heavy rain for a total of 3 inches. It came so quickly and violently, it literally picked up my mulch path and moved it to the parking lot. Thank goodness we have some wonderful help out here. I wasn't here that week and Tina (this is her first mention in the ranch blog) had to rake ever bit of it back into its borders. The water also removed almost every bit of sand that we'd place beneath two of our four flagstone patios. Believe, it was easy getting the sand down the first place. To have to make repairs proved a real back breaker.
So while we in this area pray for rain, I almost fear it too.
Bill Robertson

Hot coffee at 5am

I hate gettin' early, but I love being up early. Make sense. Most days here at the ranch, I don't sleep past 6:30. Even if I wanted to I couldn't. The sun comes through my east window everyday morning... funny how that works.
But this morning, it's just now 6:00 and I've been going for at least an hour. It's a great morning. There's a firm (not stiff) breeze blowing from the south. By the way, a firm breeze isn't as severe as a stiff breeze which is less than breezy and a far cry from gusty and even further from windy.
Anyway, weird stuff happens out here early in the morning. It probably happens everyday. I just don't hear it because I'm not up at 5am most days. Right now, that firm breeze is moving clouds across the sky. There's a sliver of a moon illuminating the background. And there are some weird looking bugs, too.
I just noticed the biggest moth I've ever seen perched on one of the pavilion front porch columns. I bet it's body is 4". It's wingspan must be twice that---if I calculated correctly using my high school trigonometry... or is it algebra.
I gotta get earlier.. the is an interesting and comfortable part of the day.
Bill Robertson

Birds are like catfish

I've about decided birds are like catfish. That is, they'll eat just about anything including lots and lots of dog food.
Here's the deal. We have two dogs at the Windmill Ranch, Lola and Curley. Lola's a sweet yellow lab. She just wants you to pet her. Curley's a psychopathic Cocker Spaniel. My best advice is just leave him alone. Anyway, I feed 'em on the front porch.
See, we have this tremendous front porch that wraps partially around our pavilion. It's a great place to sit back, put your feet up and enjoy what mother nature offers.. which changes on any given day. I also feed Lola and Curley along the southwest corner.
Well, you'd think someone rang the dinner bell everytime I set out their food. Birds of all shapes and sizes descend on the pavilion. Who needs bird feed? We have the graekels (sp) of course. But the male Cardinal also dines at the pavilion. The Ladderbacks also enjoy a snack a la fresco.. and who knows what else. If I didn't know better I'd say every bird enjoys dog food. Now before the experts write me and say, "the flyisthighest yellow tail morganzabobaboob" hates dog food" know that I'm exaggerating. But, it really seems birds like dogfood.
So, if you're sitting on your own porch this evening wondering 'where have all the birds gone." Well, they're at the Windmill Ranch near Snyder enjoying 'Pedigree with chicken.'
Bill Robertson
PS.. I wish they'd stop. My dogs are hungry.

Do you believe in signs?

Do you believe in signs? I don't but if I did this would be a giant billboard on a one-way road leading to a a deadend.
If you've been following my blogs, you know that I've been on the ranch since Christmas. My family, Susan, Jeff, Georgia, Jack and Joe stayed in Tennessee to finish the school year. The plan's always been finish the school year, pack up and move west to Snyder and the Windmill Ranch.
Possible sign (I don't believe, but if I did...) #1 happened a few months ago. The plan WAS move from Tennessee into the house my granddad built @ Randals Corner. Big house.. lots of room.. wonderful craftmanship.. many wonderful memories. Well, it burned to the ground. Inspectors called it an electrical problem. Okay, we've dealt with that.
Now possible sign (I don't believe) #2 just happened. The 18-wheeler hauling our my family's belongings; furniture, appliances, clothes, keepsakes, pots, pans, dishes,... everything's been impouned.. near Austin.
The driver called with his side of the story. I spoke to Texas DPS they gave their story. I tend to believe their report. The driver got into a minor wreck. The DPS investigated. They found the tractor had 25+ outstanding citations and the trailer had NOT been registered since 1997. And for icing on the cake, the company didn't have operating authority in Texas.
So now... all my family's stuff is in the Cedar Park impound lot. Wanna hear something else weird. Cedar Park is in Williamson County Texas. We're moving from Williamson County Tennessee.
Too weird.... that's why I don't believe in signs.
Bill Robertson

Horny Toads!!!

We called 'em Horny Toads when I was a kid. They were everywhere. We'd chase 'em, grab 'em and stuff into our pockets. No big deal. Now, they're call Horned Lizards and they're engangered.
In fact, one of the big emphasis @ the Windmill Ranch is the preservation of the Horny Toad.. I'm still gonna call 'em that no matter what.
The rub is... we have their main diet (red ants,) but we haven't seen any of the toads, I guess that's why they're engangered. The good news is, as of this morning, we've seen two in two days. And we know they're two, different Horny Toads because we spotted each in totally separate locations... a long ways from the other.
The one I saw today was so big that I thought it was a ground squirrel or something like that. This toad looked at me. I looked at it. I avoided my childhood habit of dashing after it, grabbing it for a new denim home.
In this case, we just kinda stared at one another. Eventually, the toad scampered off. We'll see if one shows up tomorrow for three in three days... hope so.
Bill Robertson

"I wouldn't.. he'll bite."

I gotta tell you this funny joke I heard while away w/ my family in Tennessee. By the way, they're moving here next week. Can't wait!!!!
Anyway, the story goes likes this: Two old men are sitting on a front porch. There's an old dog laying next to them. Before long, the ol' dog starts licking himself. Old man #1 says to old man #1; "I sure wish I could do that."
Old man #2 says to old man #1; "I wouldn't.. he'll bite."
Bill Robertson

The old toilet & Lola, the lab

This is two blogs in one. One story has nothing to do w/ the other, but both struck me as interesting today.
First of all, the Windmill Ranch is eight miles west of Snyder. It's a an ongoing project. Everyday, there's a new job or a recent project that needs attention. Meantime, my family's purchased the historical and very old Manhattan Hotel along the downtown Snyder square. That's a very new, very intricate and very old project.
The old is what caught my attention today. We know the place was built in stages from 1910-1916. And we know that much of the original interior's still intact.. including some incredible woodwork. But today, we found hardcore proof. We begin pulling up toilets to cut into the floor to check out the piping. These toilets look kinda like today's potties, but they're still a lil' odd.
Anyway, Max (who knows nothing about plumbing) unscrewed one of these odd looking thrones from the floor and that's when he spotted the proof. There stamped on the back of the tank, cast iron by the way, was 06/15/16. I'm no genius, but Max is pretty smart. We figured that means that toilet (at least the tank) was made June 15, 1916. That's 90 years old yesterday. And by the looks of it, it'd work.. if we had water.
Now to Lola, my yellow lab. Actually, she's my daughter's dog but she follows me around like I have ground beef in my pockets. Her big thing is to chase my truck everytime I leave the ranch. It's a real pain. Normally, I stop, call her, give her a treat and put her in her kennel. That way she won't follow me off the property onto a busy highway.
Well just this afternoon, I decided I'd take her into town instead of going through the aforementioned rigormorol. So, I put her in the back of the pickup and loosely tied her up--otherwise she normally jumps out of an open bed.
She does wonderfully... sniffs the air and all the dog stuff. But when I get back home and untie her.. she stays in the bed of the truck. Apparently she doesn't know she can jump out. It'd be one thing if she figured it out after a few minutes. But she stayed in the bed for 20-minutes. Keep in mind, this is a labrador that's not a big water fan and hates the sound of gunfire. I guess if she were a car she'd be considered a lemon. Still she looks good and she's sweet.
Bill Robertson

Morning coffee, the dump woodpecker @ more

I dunno now what happens while you're having your morning coffee, but here's how it is @ the Windmill Ranch.
First of all, it's incredibly cool. How it goes from perfect weather to hot still amazes me. But that's not the point.
We have the 40' porch that wraps around the front and south of the pavilion. The back, stone porch runs the full length and faces the east. It really is a tough choice to decide which porch for morning 'waking up.'
But that's just the beginning. If I sit on the front porch, I have an endless wild prairie that's dotted with mesquite, sunflowers, wildflowers and blue sky. If I choose the back, it's under a grove of soapberry trees and swarming with humming birds.
Usually, I sit in our red willow chairs on the front porch and that's when it happens.
First, there's a tap, tap.. tapping. Normally, I miss the source the first time. But then, it's there again. Usually by 7:45-8:00am. Tap, tap... tapping. It's always to my left.
It's like clockwork, everyday. It's a big woodpecker tryin' to pry his/her way into an antique, metal milk jug. He or she will bang, bang and bang.. then fly off. Then, it'll try again.
Lola, Curly (the dogs) and I wait almost daily for this persistent pecker to budge the metal.
If that's not weird enough, try this. The scissortails constantly entangle themselves in a dogfight. Zooming, diving and talking at whirlwind speed. They're like those fighters from the old John Wayne movies.
Then just this morning, a big bird (not the big bird) came straight for me from the sunflower field. I thought "what's this." I've seen a lot, but this isn't normal.
It was a big, tom turkey. I've seen 'em fly 50' or so. But this one musta been showing off. He flew from the west side of Lavender land, straight to the pavilion (that's 150yds). Then, he soared upward and over the trees.
It happened at precisely 7:57am because I looked at my watch whenmy hot coffee spilled down my lip onto my chin.
So, join u. Who knows what you'll see one morning. And by the way, if we'll clean up the spill and refill your mug.
Bill Robertson.

Rain & My Tractor experiece.

Have you ever driven a tractor with a stuck accelerator? It's a ride.. but I get ahead of myself.
I just got back to the ranch, after a 10-day trip to see my two oldest graduate from high school. Great trip.. kids are wonderful.. wife is beautiful.. all will be Texans by next week.. thank God!!!
Anyway while I was gone, it rained. Not much--but enough. I returned to WRP to find most everything covered up in forbes.. those are weeds that look good.
Well, I'm a city boy. So, I said "I gotta mow." The rub is, I don't have a mower.. yet. So, I rented a tractor with a shredder (that's a mower w/ dull blades to you and me). Then, I start mowing (shredding)
It's a good thing that I didn't wipe out everything in sight. This mower (shredder) had an accelerator that varied btw very, very slow and almost out of control. I opted for almost out of control. If you know nothing else about me.. know this, I'm very impatient.
So here I am atop this giant green machine going what feels like 50mph over sunflowers, forbes (weeds) and almost everything else in my path. I'm turning this giant steering wheel, I still can't feel my fanny thanks to the tremendous vibration.. grass, forbes, weeds and flowers are going everywhere.. and I'm holding on for dear life.
Well, low and behold.. it worked and it looks great. I and the big green machine with the dull mower conquered mother nature. I've since returned the out of control tractor to the rental store. But now I've noticed... the grass, weeds, forbes and flowers are making a comeback.
Oh no.. I hope that accelerator's fixed.
Bill Robertson

I can break anything.. but this

I can't fix anything.. at least I couldn't until recently. But I could always break things. Just last week, I broke a weedeater less than 15 minutes after I fired up the engine. I hate those things.
I say I could always break things, until today. I just had my first experience with old school craftmanship. No offense against the new stuff (less than 50 years old.) But wow!!! The old stuff is "hell for stout" as my friend Max would say.
Here's the story.. I've broken and fixed dozens of things at the Windmill
Ranch. All's good. No worries. But now, we have the Manhatten project. It sounds like a movie, but it is really the old hotel that my family bought in downtown Snyder.
Anyway, we're making big renovations.. primarilly upstairs. You gotta know that this bldg was constructed in 1910-1916. That was a different time. For cryin' out loud, the rafters btw floors are at least 2"x14". The nails look like something I've never seen. All the walls are plaster on lathe, either wood or wire.
Well today, I took it upon myself to rip down (or try to rip down) part of the ceiling. We want an 'exposed' look. So here I go.. piece of cake.. piece of cake my fanny.
First, I used a crowbar... I could almost hear my two, teenage hired hands laughing. Nothing happened, except I got covered in dust. Then, I said; "let's use a SAWZALL." Brilliant!! I'll have this done lickety split. Bull!!! I pulled out the sawzall and I know the ol' plaster and wire said: "get outta here, you sissy." Then, I returned to the basics.. a 2lb sledge. It worked. The bummer is.. it took 1/2 an hour just to remove a 2'x8' section. At that rate, I'll be on that ladder all day tomorrow and most of the next day too.
My point is.. the incredible craftmanship. Whoever built this stuff built it to last. I couldn't get mad, even though I was cussin' in my head like a sailor. Because the whole time, I kept saying to myself, I wish I had not only the patience, but also the skill to build something so sturdy and everlasting.
Maybe the good news is, I'm done w/ breaking things and onto something less destructive.
Bill Robertson