Cosumne Gal

Last weekend I drove to a poultry show in Utah. That's 700 miles, one way. Made it in 9 hours. Once you get out of the highway madness that abounds in California, you just set the cruise control to 85 and sail along. At least that's what I do in my zippy Rav4. It was a pretty nice drive.

This is an example of the spaciousness that is Utah. The showgrounds are north of Salt Lake City a ways, in Farmington.


Just a couple of years ago, FARMington was open fields with dairy cows. There are still a few of these fields, sandwiched between areas of development. This was the view from the window of my room at the Hampton Inn.

The front of this farm is now on a suburban street. Their neighbors live on small lots. In California this farm would be deserted. I saw this happen in Elk Grove, which used to be a dairy town. Developers buy land all around a farm. When the farmer protests, the supervisors say, "We have a right-to-farm ordinance in this county." Which means, we would like to just put you out of business, but by laws we're going to have to wait until your new neighbors complain about your animals. And just to make sure that happens quickly, they'll okay an apartment complex next to your dairy. In many ways, California sucks.

I was curious about how shows are run in Utah. There are differences. Mostly in the people who exhibit. In California you will see a pretty good assortment of men, women and children. In Utah most of the exhibitors are old men. Polite, rosy-cheeked fellows who wear longsleeved, ironed shirts and caps with various feedstore logos. I'm happy to say I think I got to talk to each one of them during the show. They're all experienced showmen who present their birds well. They reminded me a lot of my stepfather, who was a cowboy from the old school.


This was a Double Show. There are two separate judges who go through and judge each bird. So there are awards for each show. In one show, Chris won Best of Show. That was great, we had to squeeze some trophies in the car. The Utah exhibitors were very gracious, they did not run us out of town for that.

We left about 1:30 Saturday afternoon for another 9 hour trip home. It was a more difficult drive because you drive for 7 hours on a totally wonderful, almost deserted highway, then at the California border you have to slow down considerably and be alert for ding dong drivers. It turned dark as we got to Reno, so the last two hours were night driving on the totally nasty Interstate 80 over the summit. Caltrans says this highway is difficult to maintain properly because of the snow. There is no snow, there has been very little of it this year. Yet the highway desperately needs the white lines repainted so you can tell where the road is, and where the lane boundaries are. On some sections there are reflectors on posts, on others there is nothing. The posts have been knocked around, presumably by snow plows in previous years, and when they glow in your headlights, there is no rhyme nor reason to the jumbled mess they reflect.

It's like going from a sane transportation system to a wild roller coaster ride. I can imagine the horror that out-of-state drivers must feel when they hit that highway at night.

But at least there was no snow.

I had only been gone 3 days, but the entire yard sprang into bloom during that time. With orange blossoms and lilacs, it not only looks beautiful, it smells heavenly. Last night we actually had a sprinkle of rain, so it was still overcast when I took these pictures for you.






The other side of the wood shed faces the yard. It's painted and looks decent. I keep forgetting that this view is more quaint. The cats go in and out of that window to eat, the varmints haven't figured out how to do that. Yet.

There's only one more show this season, then nothing until the end of July. I'll be selling the extra birds, hatching eggs, and hopefully completing some of my projects on the property. No plans for a vacation, I've already been on the road a lot, I've stayed 20 nights in hotels. At least this year when June 21 rolls around I won't feel like I didn't get to take advantage of the longer days.

I was fortunate to attend high school not only at a time — the early 1960s — when English was considered a very valuable subject, but also in a school where there were superb English teachers. I had come from the small elementary school in Sloughhouse. In grades 1 through 8 combined (there was no kindergarten in those days) there were 80 students. My eighth grade class of over a dozen students was the largest the school had ever graduated.

I went to high school in El Dorado County. My mom had married a cattle rancher whose house was there. So that's where I lived during my high school years.

We had English teachers who would surely be teaching at higher levels of education these days. Mr. Bell, Mr. Harvey, Mr. Lambirth, and topped off by Mr. Frost in our senior year. Their goal was to send students to the UC system who could pass the English entrance exam and start in English 1A.

Coming from a rural elementary school where easily half the students spoke Spanish as their native language, I might have been expected to struggle. Instead I soared. The teachers were very skilled at their jobs and inspired us to achieve the goals they set.

Today, I hear high school English teachers are among the most despised and feared. Because of the exit exam, English must be passed. Instead of high goals, the line of accomplishment is drawn at the bottom.

This morning I received an email from a place called Ali Express. There was a screen full of goods being sold. I glanced at them with my finger on the "delete" key.


The thing that first caught my eye was "genuine male taxi fertilizer quick-drying pants." I read that three or four times trying to figure out what sort of typo might have changed a legitimate descriptive phrase into "taxi fertilizer." Even considering the absurdities of inefficient translation, I couldn't answer that question.

Then I glanced at the next two objects. I wondered, "Why is an Arab company selling crotchless panties? Is that why they make their women wear long robes? Because underneath they're wearing sexy underwear? And what's with the black rainbow underwear?" (When I read the description I discovered those are actually sunglasses, but they sure looked like the underwear pictured to the left of them.)

So I went online in search of answers, and discovered what some of you probably already know.

Ali Express is a site for Alibaba. It isn't owned by Arabs, it's Chinese. And it's a big deal.


In the tech world alone, Alibaba has become an impressive competitor. The Alibaba site, I found, is like Amazon, where a person can search for and buy almost anything. I use Amazon a lot, but would Alibaba have the same guarantees?

Some critics say "yes." They also say that if you're buying something really expensive to employ the services of Taobao, where there are agents who speak English that can handle your online searches and purchases.


If I am ever in the market for a drilling rig or an amusement park, I might consider that.

When I searched "poultry" I was thinking "cheap incubator." This is what I found.

 Jack Ma. An English teacher in China.

It seems that it was only a couple of days ago that I last posted on this blog. Cousin Beverly tells me otherwise, she has sent me not one, but two, e-mails about shirking my responsibilities.

I really HAVE been busy. Just as show season is winding down, chick season is starting up. I'm not ready for that. I spent 3 days totally cleaning and sanitizing the chick room. The incubator had been going in the dining room, as soon as a couple of chicks hatched I was able to move the entire production into the room where Wesley cannot not wander.

Right now, 7 chicks have hatched. I have 9 though. The first chick was a loner, with no more due for 2 weeks. So I went to the feed store and bought two others to keep it company. Why 2? So if one of the chicks died, there would still be a pair. A chick by itself is capable of driving a person insane with its constant, lonely peeping. Chicks are only comfortable when they have company.

While the rest of the nation suffers with cold and snow, we've had temps in the 70s and lots of warm sunshine. (Today there is a drizzle, but it's still warm.) Chickens don't seem to care about warmth and sunshine, though. They didn't start getting serious about laying until last week. I already have both incubators full. I'm still hoping to get the hatching finished much earlier this year. At the same time there are a surplus of adult birds that I need to sell.

Those sunny days made it necessary to drag out the weed-fighting equipment and get the yard taken care of before it disappeared under wild vegetation. Before the drizzle I had to start a couple of sprinklers already, too.

A quick recap: Wesley is fine. Naughty, but I haven't killed him for that. All the cabinets in the kitchen are taped shut, except for those that hold pots and pans, like those below. Wesley can't push them out onto the floor. This is where he sits, by the way, when he needs a "cookie." (Greenies cat treats.) He only gets them when he's been good, so he doesn't get many. He does not do tricks for treats.



Gollum is very happy now that sunshine comes through the window onto her bed again.


Biscuit is here for two or three days, then away for two or three. The guys tell me they've seen him at the shop, about a mile away. He looks like such a lazy lump, but he evidently does a lot of walking.

Rosie and Linda are still here. There's a black cat with a big gash on his leg. It probably should have been stitched up a month ago, but I haven't been able to catch him. He's not limping and seems to be healthy otherwise. Last evening when I pulled into the driveway I saw a new cat running off the porch, away from Biscuit's feed bowl. It appears to be young and black and has either no tail or a very short one. I need to order a new trap and get busy.

Why a new trap? I forget if I told you about the raccoon last month. It got into the layers' pen, killed one hen, and injured another. I stitched the injured one with my sewing needle and thread and it's alive and well. I put out both traps immediately and caught the raccoon the next night.

Then I had to find someone with a gun. Actually, that's not correct. Everyone around here (except me) has a gun. I had to find someone with a gun who would use it to execute a raccoon. I finally did, but he accidentally ran over the trap and crunched it, so now I have only one big old trap. Cats are a bit harder to trap than raccoons. The old one doesn't suit them.

I had to buy a new pair of glasses recently. I've had to get new glasses about once a year for the past 8 years because my eyes just keep getting better and better. At this point I can function fine without glasses for everything except driving. I have no idea why this is so, but I can't complain. Even though it costs a lot of money for new glasses all the time, money I could be spending on chicken feed. Or gas for a road trip.

Not complaining, though. I'll save that for next month when taxes are due.