Bill Robertson. I'm the old one on the right. Those are my boys, Jack & Joe. I love 'em more than they can count.

A One Armed DCOS

     I am writing in response and opposition to an editorial in The Snyder Daily News dated Saturday, April 28, 2018 by publisher Bill Crist. The title of the editorial was "Let the economic development begin."

     First let me say that I agree, DCOS funds should not be used for throwing parties being organized as fundraisers. In fact, I don't think any group receiving tax dollars should release that money for parties as fundraisers because the formula simply does not work. But that's a topic for a later discussion.

    My opposition to Mr. Crist's editorial, and we've amicably debated the issue many times, is he and many others feel the current charter of the DCOS should remain as its mission. That is a charter that focuses almost exclusively on enticing industrial and manufacturing to Snyder for job creation and economic diversity.

     Mr. Crist wrote, "it (DCOS) was created by the voters to increase the number of jobs here." He also wrote, "For the DCOS to take its eye off that prize would be a mistake." It's that opinion that prompted my response.

     The current DCOS charter is like sending a boxer into the ring with one hand tied behind his back. What harm would it do to change to a Type B or Municipal Development District corporation? I realize that takes an election and that takes taxpayer dollars. But isn't that a small price to pay to potentially grow and diversify Snyder's currently overwhelmingly narrow economic base?  

     Leaving the DCOS to operate with its current, narrow charter and to expect different results is a very reactive approach to take for our community's future and one proven not to work exceptionally well. Want more jobs? Want more diversity? Want more economic growth? Try something new, I say. What can it hurt to untie the boxer's arm to give him a fighting chance in the ring of potential progress?

Bill Robertson
   

   

My First Time

     I had a new first this past weekend. We've all had a 'first time.' We've had the kind you can talk about and we've had the kind we can't or shouldn't talk about.

     I think this 'first' is safe to talk about. I went to church this past Sunday with Teresa and I wore shorts. I never dreamt I'd ever wear shorts to church. I've seen people wear shorts to church, but didn't think I'd ever go sans pants.

     Before I post anymore, I must say that I wore nice shorts and a nice shirt and pretty decent shoes... with socks!
     I don't know what has kept me from wearing shorts to church. I guess it's because I'm 55 years old and I was raised back in the day when dads wore suits and little boys wore clip-on ties. Of course, those were also the days when church was absolutely no fun.

     Boy, do I remember hating to go to church. I have a very clear memory of living in San Antonio. We went to church ever Sunday and I remember EVERY Sunday hoping my mom and dad would forget to wake me up.
     Not only did they wake me up, we also were the family that stopped at Dunkin' Donuts for donut holes for their Sunday school class. We went to church and I don't think I was ever excited about it. I did like the donut holes as I remember.

    I also remember when I asked my dad to show me Jesus. I don't remember what church, but it was after the service. We were standing outside... visiting. Really, mom and dad were visiting. I was probably fidgeting. Anyway, I asked dad. He took me into the sanctuary and pointed to the stained glass above the alter, you know... the 1970s church with the back wall always with the stained glass.        "There's Jesus," he said as he pointed to the glass.
     "Where?"
     "There."
     "Oh," I think I said but didn't really get it.

     So, that was church as I remember it; Coat and tie, boring, not fun, and really confusing. The really hard part for me is/was, it really never changed for me over the years.
     I went to an Episcopal school with chapel once a week. I can recite the Nicene Creed by rote. We attended an Episcopal church on the corner, :Later when I married, we even became deacons in a Presbyterian church. But the cold truth for me was, I was all dressed up, but walking away empty handed.

     Many years later, I somehow crossed the border at a church that still wasn't as loose as wearing shorts but gripping, entertaining, informative, enlightening, helpful and educational.
     We had friends who kept inviting us to their big, mega church. I wasn't about to go and sit with a bunch of hand waving fanatics. So, I constantly and consistently said no, but all the while taking my family to our calm, collected, coat and tie wearing Methodist church in Franklin, Tennessee. And then one New Year's eve, I said: "Ok, we'll meet you at your church this Sunday."

     Here's what happened. My family arrived. Our friends were already in their seats... down front... waving to us. "Oh crap," I'm pretty sure I said to myself but probably loud enough for others to hear. Our friends waved us down and we sat... my friend who invited us to my right. My oldest son, Jeff who was about 14 at the time, to my left.
     "Hey," I said to my friend.
     "Hey."
     "Big crowd."
     "Yeah. They're here early because that's when they bring out the snakes."
     "What!!!!"
     He just laughed.
     "You ready for the snakes," Jeff added.
     "Shut up."

     The unquestionable bottom line is: The church, The People's Church in Franklin, TN., and my friend's insistence to try it changed my life. I finally liked going to church. And because I liked going to church, I actually listened. I received the message. I began to understand.

     Since then, my church life's been inconsistent at best. But it was my time at The People's Church that brought me to our Lord and Savior. Somehow, this church had the formula for me. I suspect based on the size of the congregation, this church had the formula for many people.

     I've found a few similar inspiring, enlightening churches like The People Church. Two of my favorites are The Heights Church in Prescott, AZ and my little sister's church Trinity at the Marketplace in Albuquerque.

     I note these because while The People's Church in Tennessee awakened me, The Heights and Trinity liberated me, but simultaneously kept the lamp on the nightstand versus under the blanket.
     The Heights is a lot like The People's Church, but more laid back. Trinity is more hardcore in that the congregation is more diverse, subsequently or presumably more staid, but infinitesimally more casual.
      The good news, at least for me and hopefully others, is the message these three churches deliver gets gladly delivered to all walks of life, no matter the attire. And because of that casualness, the 'want' to go to church is revived, whether you get a chance to go to those churches or you don't.... you still want to go to church vs the old days when... you felt you 'had' to go to church.

     So, I wore shorts to church but I wanted to go to church. I still would've gone, but I felt comfortable going in shorts.
     I think in my dad's very, always very quiet, way with me that he was explaining that while I can't see or hear Jesus, he's right there and he can see and hear me. So maybe his point was, as long as I/we believe in Jesus... It doesn't matter what I/we wear to church.

Bill Robertson, Romans 14:11
   
   

   

Healthy Lifestyle or Diet

     I'm eating more vegetables than I've ever eaten in life! Healthy eating involves a lot of chewing and it's expensive.
     Teresa and I aren't necessarily on a diet, but I will confirm that we are taking a decidedly heathier approach to our eating habits.
 
     Before I write more, I got to tell you that I'm a CRAVER. I have been for as long as I remember. I go to the store everyday after I've had my craving. Unfortunately now, my cravings for chili dogs, cheeseburgers, meatloaf with mashed potatoes, Chinese, Mexican, steak, bar-b-que and the like are off the table. Now, we're ignoring the cravings and shopping for healthier fare.

     The truth is there are a lot of healthy recipes out there. But, the hard truth is they just don't have that 'Mmmm, I want seconds taste.' For example, cauliflower rice just isn't the same as sticky rice no matter how much soy sauce I want to add.

     And what really strikes me is, we're told by just about every expert on earth that we should eat veggies, fruits, lean meats and avoid processed foods. That's fine, but how come I can buy enough 'fun food' for a week and it costs the same as healthy food for one night?

     Did I ever tell you that I once paid $2.99 for one orange! For that price, I could've bought a bag of crunchy Cheetos that would have lasted me two or three roast beef sandwiches on rye lathered with mustard and mayonnaise.

     Still, we're trying. So far, I've eaten a lot of fish, a lot of chicken, a lot of cauliflower, a lot of broccoli, a lot spinach and a lot of other chewy stuff. It's all decent.

     Tonight's menu is Taco SALAD. The caps on the salad part of the menu. I'm anticipating lots of chewing.
     If I could, I'd have hot n' sour soup, crab Rangoon, Beef and broccoli with a side of steamed dumplings or a big, fat cheeseburger with a side of onion rings and a spicey 'come back sauce' or meatloaf with bleu cheese mashed potatoes or a country breakfast with more meat and gravy than any vein can take.

Bill Robertson,  gotta admit the healthy stuff does come with a good night's sleep.
   

I Came This Close to Getting Hacked!

     Don't think for a minute it can't happen to you. I didn't think it could happen to me and it came way too close for comfort. In fact, it was down right CREEEEEPY!

     I'm talking about getting my laptop hacked. I've heard the tales, seen the news reports and even randomly checked all my financial information for years. For so long, nothing seemed to happen. So, I guess I let my guard down.... and the bad guys came very close.

     
The Hacking that Almost Happened

     I'm going to tell you what happened, what I did, what I SHOULD HAVE DONE and what the experts told me after they cleaned up my computer.

     I was browsing a website for metal home designs. All of a sudden, a red box with some text came up. The red box with white lettering was about 4" x 4". Then a man's voice, without an accent, began to speak. He kept saying the same thing over and over: "Do not turn off your computer or restart your computer. You're computer is at risk. Call our emergency help line." 
     I'm listening to this anonymous voice. It's clear, accent free, direct and seems very authentic. About third time 'the voice' told me not to turn off my computer or restart it, a smaller, light blue box covered the text in the red box but the voice wouldn't stop. The blue box gave me an "OK" or "Cancel" option but neither would work.
     
    I wasn't panicking yet, but I think I came as close to it as I could get. Then, I clicked on a red ALERT banner in my navigation bar. The big red box covered by the smaller blue box never disappeared and the 'voice' never quit, but a phone number appeared: 866-679-4832. I called. It was a big mistake but could've been so much worse.

     The number rang. A recording came on saying: "You've reached the Microsoft Edge help line. Your call will be answered by the next available representative." So to me, although I'm on the border of freaking out, it still all looks authentic and honest.
     A female named 'Stephanie' with a severe accent came on the line. She asked what's wrong. I tried to explain. She offered help. Then, I made my second, almost worse than terrible mistake.

     'Stephanie' with the thicker than thick accent, which isn't so unusual these days when talking to techies, asks: "May I have access to your mouse?" "Yes, please!" 
     She has me click a couple buttons and then she's in my computer. "See my mouse. I'm going to look through a few things with your permission." "Yes, go ahead."

     Long story short is, 'Stephanie' with the accent said, "You've been hacked by someone in Dayton, Ohio. They've stolen your I-P  address." I don't know what an I-P address is but I remember 'Stephanie' pronounced Dayton like Day-Tone.

"Ok. What do I do?"
"We need to clean your server."
"My what?"
"Your server."
"What?"
"LISTEN TO ME! We need to clean your server."
    
        For me this was really the first red flag. Up until 'Stephanie' got pushy, everything seemed so legitimate.

"Ok. How's that work?"
"You need to go to Wal-Mart, CVS or Walgreens and get this." At this point, she's clicked around so many times my head is spinning but she's showing me the Microsoft SQL Server 2017 Standard-Open License at Wal-Mart for $869.99.

"C'mon? Really? I got to spend that much. It's that bad?"
"Yes! LISTEN TO ME!"
"Wait, wait, wait 'Stephanie'. Are you telling me that's the only way?"
"Let me try something else. Give me your password."
"My password to my Google account?" By this time, I'm lighting my cigarettes with the cigarette I just smoked and I've called Teresa over to look at the computer and listen to the conversation.

"Um, no 'Stephanie'. I think I'd like to speak to some professionals I know. Thank you, you've been very patient with me."
"Just go to Wal-Mart, CVS or Walgreens and get what I told you."
"No, I'm not comfortable with that."

       At this point as my old meteorologist friend Ken Siemek in Lincoln, Nebraska would say, I was flummoxed. Thank goodness Teresa said, "Let me talk to her." I gladly gave the phone

     "Who am I speaking to please," she asked with absolutely no doubt she wanted an answer and she wanted it NOW.
      You got to know this about T, she is absolutely top shelf. Her middle name is Ann, but kind, thoughtful, gentle, caring, compassionate, attentive, prayerful and patient would work just as well. But when she gets riled.... she means it.

      Again, "Who am I speaking to? Stephanie? May I speak to your supervisor please? Thank you."
Then in a matter of seconds, not the usual lengthy wait to speak to a manager for phone solicitation calls I hear Teresa again ask... "Who am I speaking to please?"

      By now, a male had apparently come to the phone. We're nearing the end of the 'what happened' portion of the story and for me the scariest part.

      "Nathan Banks? Your name is Nathan Banks? Uh hum. We want you to release control of this computer so we can shut it down and take it to our local computer store experts."
       I couldn't hear him, but he must've said no.
       "What, you can't let loose and give us control?"
       He must've said no, again.
      "It's a scam. Hang up and turn it off Bill." I did.

      "Wow, what was that," I asked her.
      "It's a scam. Just leave it off for a few minutes and turn it back on."
      "That was freaky."
      "You didn't give them any passwords or account information, did you?"
      "No."
      "Okay. It'll be okay."

     About five minutes later, I began trying to log back into the computer. Nothing happened. The log-in password wouldn't work. And then, the phone rang "UNKNOWN NUMBER."

      "Hello, Windmill Ranch Preserve. This is Bill."
      "Sir, you cannot get back into your computer," said a man's thickly accented voice.

      It was creepy. Think of Liam Neesen's character in "Taken." My stuff of course was only a computer and life savings, not the safety of a child. But still, it was capital letters CREEPY.

      "Who is this? What's your name?"
      "John Banks."
      "John, we just want to get back into our own computer."
      "It cannot happen. Your computer is at risk. You need to go to Wal-Mart, CVS or Walgreens to get that device."
       "Can I go tomorrow?"
       "No. You get it now. We help you install it for free. It takes about 20 minutes."
       "John, I'm sorry. I'm not comfortable with that."
       "Sir, you called us for help!"
       "I know John, but I'm not comfortable. I want to look someone in the eye."
       "Are you going to the store now to get that device."
       "No, I am not," I said. And then, he said what I'll never forget and completely convinced me it was a scam because at this point, while there were red flags, the element of authenticity still existed. Until he said...
        "Then, you're wasting my time." Click. He hung up.

       Now, here's what I should have done: 1) Never called and 2) Never given them access.

       Here's what our local professionals told us today: 1) Definitely a scam, 2) Of course, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER give out passwords or other personal data and 3) JUST LIKE THE IRS WILL NEVER CALL YOU TO SAY YOUR DELINQUENT..... NO COMPUTER BUSINESS, UNDER ANY SEEMINGLY OFFICIAL NAME WILL CONTACT YOU either through your computer or by phone! NEVER!  

      We dodged a bullet. I hope my too close for comfort call helps you. Please pass the word to your friends and family especially to your elderly/geriatric friends and family. These hackers use terrible scare tactics and are very clever in disguising their motives.

Bill Robertson, it dawned on me a little later that John/Nathan Banks was the name of the father in "Mary Poppins."


     


The Art of the Sandwich/Deli Blog

     I noticed we observed National Grilled Cheese Day earlier this week. Ahh, who doesn't like the grilled cheese sandwich.
     I don't recall my first grilled cheese. It might have been in San Antonio. A neighbor lady would make them for me with tomato soup. She always made the soup with milk not water. She said "that's the way LBJ likes 'em."

     Since those days and likely before, I've been a nut for sandwiches. I'd say sandwiches are my favorite food. I put mustard on anything. I will always have chips. And, I prefer a warm sandwich versus a cold one. It's definitely safe to say that I take my sandwiches seriously.

    So I guess it's no wonder that when we started The Big Apple Deli, I took extra time when it came to our menu. The sandwiches had to have a fun name and even more fun description.  No matter your order, if you wanted a certain sandwich on a Monday and wanted the same sandwich again on any other day, it had to look and taste the same every time. And every sandwich at B.A.D. had one simple but crucial ingredient.
The B.A.D. Ruben
     Take for example our best seller, The B.A.D. Ruben. This sandwich's origins date back years ago to a Lithuanian grocer in Omaha, Nebraska. My version dates back to 1976(ish) where I learned to make it at The Caterie in Baton Rouge, LA.
      The key then as it was during our deli days was: Four ounces of shaved corned beef, one-third cup drained sauerkraut, a hefty dollop of Thousand Island Dressing, two slices of Swiss cheese on a good rye bread... and a pickle spear, of course.
     But like all of our sandwiches, I was very particular about the way a sandwich looked, sounded and was presented. Certain breads had to be toasted to the same color every time. Each sandwich required what we called "the audible crunch." That meant, I wanted the sandwich 'dresser' to actually hear the crunch, a soft crunch-not the hard crunch of overly toasted bread, with they cut it, diagonally, of course. And, each sandwich had to be placed in its basket to look good. The best motto I ever heard from my waiting tables days in NOLA was: "Everyone eats first with their eyes."
B.A.D. Muffaletta
      
     The key ingredient to all of our sandwiches was butter. We buttered both slices of bread before they ever touched our grill. We also pre-heated all the meat on our grills so you'd get a steamy mouthful in every bite
       Some sandwiches didn't exactly prove successful, no matter how much I liked them. Our B.A.D. Muffaletta for example was an expensive bust.
      I love 'em. We flew in the special bread from Gambino's Bakery in NOLA. We flew in their special Olive Dressing too. But, the MUFF didn't take off.
      I blame its failure on price. Once we combined all the ingredients and added up the costs, we needed to charge upwards of $16 for a whole muffaletta or at least $8 for half and those were prices we needed to charge before adding a side and drink. Maybe in NOLA or even Dallas customers can pay that much for a sandwich, but not Snyder.
       Another thing I learned was, Snyder loves soup. We didn't start with soup but after enough requests we began offering it as a side. Our very first was Baja Enchilada Chicken Soup. Customers wanted it year round, even when it was above 100-degrees outside.
       We finally made up a story that the National Weather Service advised not eating hot foods for lunch when the temperature was above 90-degrees or so. Funny thing was, we'd tell people that. They'd say, "Oh, that makes sense." Then, they'd order a hot sandwich.
       The deli's a goner these days. But, I still love to make sandwiches. Here's a tip for your next hum-drum sandwich.... Butter the bread, build your sandwich, put it in the skillet like grilled cheese. Viola!

Bill Robertson, In honor of Nat'l Grilled Cheese day, try an opened faced-hot pimento cheese topped with bacon and tomato. As one customer put it: "It's a symphony in my mouth."
   

Texting Leads to Lost Manners Blog

     The art of communications is ever changing and ever growing. But I feel texting is not only massacring  the King's English but also leading to a loss of civility and just plain good manners.

     So much has changed with the way we communicate in recent years. But if you think about it, the way we talk or the methods we talk have been changing for a long, long time.

    I'm 55 years old. Here are some of those changes just in my lifetime.

    -Dial phone to push button phone
    -Cordless phone
    -Call waiting/Caller I-D
    -The Bag Phone
    -Cell phones
    -Social Media
          -Facebook, Texting, Twitter, Linkdin, etc, etc.

     By all accounts, the above listed advancements equal different means of communicating. Obviously, the first few actually include sound that is a person's voice, But after that, I think we have a line of demarcation in the world of speech.

     So much can be taken from hearing someone's voice. Just by someone saying "Hi," it's pretty easy to tell their mood. But then enters the world of Social Media in all its forms. I'm pretty sure just about all Social Media eliminates the key to communicating. That key is sound.

     Through Social Media, we can "talk" across the globe almost instantaneously. The convenience is fantastic! No more; No answers, busy signals, answering machines (oops voicemail.) Type a message using all your fingers or just your thumbs and BAM! You've just "spoken" to someone in Timbuktu.

     But with convenience and speed comes what I feel are the typed grunts, one-letter replies or simply no replies that are leading the most advanced peoples in world history down a path of clicking abbreviated words, lost punctuation and in my opinion lost manners.

     Take a few examples:

     1) How many times have you used Social Media to communicate with a friend, family member or colleague whether asking a question or making a statement or declaration and gotten one of the following: K, 👍, idk, btw, lol, lmao, etc?
     2) How many times have you received a message with absolutely ZERO punctuation?
     3)And probably the worst scenario in my opinion, how many times have you reached out to a friend, family member or colleague with a statement or declaration like: "Good morning! I hope you have a great day," and NOT received a response?

     Regarding example #1), I concede that we're all in a hurry. So, a quick abbreviated answer to a question seems logical. My concern is, a generation writing in abbreviations like our millenniums is losing its ability to spell or know the proper use of certain words. My 23 year old son uses "than" when he means "then" and he's about to graduate from college.
     As for example #2), "Am going 2 store barn post office @ 3 want anything 4 tomorrow we're having bbq for the party🎉saw spot looking good yesterday k." is NOT a real sentence but it's almost the exact text I recently received from a former employee. My point is, what are the odds of this poor grammar taking root? And, what could be the consequences?
     And now for example #3,) the one that really chaps me. If someone texts or messages me, "Hi." I'm going to reply! It's as simple as that. Due to my acknowledgment in example #1,) I may offer a brief, even abbreviated reply, but I will reply.
     How many times have you offered a text or message without a question and been left staring at your device wondering or with hurt feelings?
     Here's what I consider to be a simple analogy. Let's say you're walking into your local grocery store. As you enter, a passerby says "hello." Do you just keep walking? You know you heard them. They know you heard them. No! You don't just keep walking. You continue into the store BUT you still say "hi."
      But why do so many reply to the stranger who addresses them without a question, but not reply to the texts or messages, many times a loved one or family member,  who simply says something like "Good morning. Have a great day"?
      For me, the really bad news regarding example #3) is, it's not just the millenniums committing what I consider 'manners fraud,' it's in many cases the millennium's parents too. And I know I'm not the first to offer the adage that parents lead by example.

      So with all the above being said or in this case typed, how long do you think it'll before yes is one grunt and no is two? And if there's no question involved, I suppose dead silence will be the reply. Heck, it's pretty much that way now... isn't it?

Bill Robertson, 👋. That's an emoji waving. Also, I did not know until this writing that millennial is an adjective. The noun is millennium or millenniums.

   

The Anatomy of a Nap Blog

     Is there anything better than a good nap? Chili Cheese Dogs are a close second, but because they usually preface a good nap, they'll always be second place. Nothing that leads to the goal can ever be first.
     There are very few things, no that's an exaggeration, that I'm especially good at doing. In fact, I consider myself a well rounded 'C' student. But when it comes to taking a nap, I'm top shelf. I would consider myself a professional napper. Subsequently, I am indeed qualified to administer advice without using pedantic prose to help you get some slumber even if you feel it might interfere with any of your pre-planned daytime duties.

      In no particular order, here's what you must understand to graduate from novice napper to neophyte to professional like me.
     I think the number one rule about napping is; It's okay to 'rest your eyes.' Of course if you're less than 30-years old, you're plain lazy. But if you have any of the following symptoms, napping is a good and potentially healthy option:

      1) You're older than 45(ish)
      2) You have children & grand children
      3) You have a good chair or couch.... NOT a bed!
      4) It's Sunday or Saturday or cloudy
      5) You have spare time
A Big Lunch = A Good Nap!


     There are better ways to take a nap. Just 'resting your eyes' will always qualify. But if you want a good nap here's my advice.

      1) Eat a giant lunch.... and eat it fast!
      2) Sit still after you eat, preferably in a warm or cold room.
      3) Use that recliner
      4) Get into a routine like, "After lunch, I rest my eyes."
      5) Watch an old movie... One you've seen many times
      6) The Golf Channel...
      7) Mellow music

     In order to take the good nap, I've learned certain things are 'nap killers.'  Here are some of the worst nap interrupters I've encountered but with some simple solutions.

       1) A pesky fly.... Always have a fly swatter handy
       2) The sun.... Close the shades or position your chair accordingly
       3) An unwanted phone call... Unplug the phone
       4) A potty break... Go before closing your eyes
       5) Unexpected visitors... Lock the door & don't answer it.
       6) The yappy dog... Most professional nappers do not have a dog.
     
      When it comes to a good nap, I feel you must remember it's a nap. It's not going to bed. So when you 'rest your eyes' make it clear to all present that you're just 'resting your eyes,' you're not going to bed.
Napping is NOT going to Bed!

       The #1) napping 'don't' is: When you announce that you're just 'resting your eyes,' you're announcing that to folks you actually know. Under NO CIRCUMSTANCES  are you to announce 'I'm just resting my eyes' at functions that include strangers nor unfamiliar family members. And remember, you are NEVER to leave the company of your guests to climb back into bed! Sometimes sacrificing a day of 'resting your eyes' is just polite behavior.

     Other napping 'don'ts' are:

      2) Don't take a nap without putting your cell phone on vibrate.... you could wake up other nappers
      3) Don't 'rest your eyes' with still a full plate of chores to conquer... nothing's worse than a good nap and still lots of chores to tackle.
      4) Don't take a nap before everyone who's supposed to be in the house is actually in the house.
      5) Don't have a yappy dog!!!

      Finally, there are better times and days to take a nap. In fact, there are better times for specific days to nap. You should feel free to nap any day, but there are definitely better times than others. Here's the good.

      1) Rainy Sunday afternoons.... The Academy Awards of napping... Zzzzzzzzzzzzz!
      2) Sunday afternoons between 1p to 2:30pm
      3) Rainy Saturday afternoons... The Emmys.... Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz-Light!
      4) Saturday afternoons... 3pm to 3:45pm
      5) Any rainy weekday after lunch.... 12:30 to 1:15pm
      5) Any weekday after lunch... 12:30 to 1:15pm

      Here's the not so good.

      1) Sunny weekend days... Keep 'em short like #2 & #4 above
      2) Any weekday... A brief 'power nap' is okay, but I always feel a lil' guilty 'resting my eyes' on weekdays
      3) Any day before 12:30PM

      Now the question is, how do you feel about a good nap? Try my suggestions.

      Bill Robertson with one last piece of advice. That is, always have a calming memory ready and waiting as soon as you begin to 'rest your eyes.' zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Ranch Life: Snakes & Weather

     There are two things we worry about in the country this time of year. One will kill you. The other could cost you a lot of money, if you're not prepared.

      The killers are snakes. We got 'em and we got 'em just about everywhere and anywhere you step out here.
First Rattler of the Year, WRP
       In fact, I've killed more rattlers on our pavilion front porch than I have anywhere else on the property. So when we say, "Watch for snakes," we mean it! The first venomous viper of the season showed up about a week or so ago.
      I had returned from town. As I was walking toward the porch between our kitchen and pavilion with an arm load of groceries, I heard THE SOUND. We've been cold here (at least too cold for snakes) for so long, that we kind of took our safety for granted. Now, we can't until at least the next big frost or extended cold weather.
      This rattler looks about four feet long. We think it's a she based on its girth. That'd be real bad because if she's a she and she's that big that probably means she's made snake love and that's not good. If she's a he, then he's just plain big.
      Male or female, this snake got away. I didn't have a gun and a snake that big is too big for a short-handled shovel.           Now, we have multiple firearms at the ready but still must look outside each door before walking from the kitchen to the pavilion or visa versa.

     Our other concern that is both a giant pain in the neck and potentially costly is the weather. We'll never turn down rain, but the ranch 'people's area' is in a low spot. So, a west Texas squall easily and usually floods our kitchen and pavilion.
     A calm day out here comes with winds in the 15-25mph range. We can deal with that. Unfortunately, this time of year winds can top 40mph for hours. The next day we're picking up furniture, dusting dirt thick enough to write a term paper on the furniture inside the pavilion and picking up trash cans in the pasture.
West Texas Weather

      The worry is the cold and it's crazy to see, but we're under a freeze warning here on April 7th. A freeze means potentially broken pipes inside the accommodations or as it happened most recently inside our well house.
      This is the country. Codes and ordinances don't apply to things like plumbing and electricity as they do in the city. A severe cold in the country can wipe out all water service to the ranch. A violent wind storm can knock out the electricity.
     All winter long we, with the help of our neighbors while we were in Florida, babysat the fragile plumbing in the unusually long cold spell. Now, it looks like we're in for another night of leave the water dripping, cover the outdoor hose bibs and waiting.

Bill Robertson, Watch for snakes and crank up the heat...

The Ranch Life

     Teresa and I are getting back in the food business.


     Not for people. This time, it's for animals.... the ranch wildlife to be more specific. For years, I've thought of doing deliberate food plots for the deer, quail, turkey and dove here at The Windmill Ranch Preserve (WRP.) But every time I think 'this is the year,' mother nature takes over and delivers.
Sunflowers, WRP
     This single sunflower doesn't do our wild sunflower crop justice. If we get rain, at the right time, the native sunflowers cover about seven acres and they're about 12-15 high.
     So just about the time that I say, "we're going to do food plots," mother nature explodes with the equivalent of burgers and hotdogs for the average American kid. Well this year, we're rooting for mother nature to succeed, but we're not counting on her.
      We've been prepping two, five acre food plots since the fall. With a neighbor farmer's help, we've 'chiseled' the soil to the north of our pavilion and the soil just to the southeast of our pavilion. We're on the verge of putting down the grain in hopes of creating the 'Golden Corral' of food plots.
        After a lengthy and very confusing conversation at Snyder Farm and Ranch, we're planting Early Sumac, Hegeri (pronounced Hi-Gear) and Crimson Clover. All we're waiting for is a smidge of rain to help the big John Deere break up the soil.
       I wish I could do my conversation with the Farm & Ranch guys justice. I'm convinced anyone who farms and everyone who helps our farmers could teach algebra at the college level.
       "You got 10 acres? A bag covers three acres. Each bag is $11. That's $33, round that up, it's about $4 per acre."
       "Huh?"
       "You got 10 acres. A bag covers three acres. Each bag is $11. Now, if you want to add more Higeri (Hi-gear), that's $12 bag."
       "How much will that cover?"
       "'About three quarters acre per pound."
       "How many pounds is a bag?"
       "50."
       "Okay... uh...."
       "You'll need just one bag."
       "Clover's more expensive. It's $2 per pound."
       "Okay, how much will a pound cover?"
       "Hold on. I gotta take this call."
   
       So here I am at the feed store, which most days looks like the beauty shop (all men though) with folks just sitting around talking. I'm trying to act like I know what I'm doing, but I clearly don't.

      "Okay. You got it figured?"
      "Uh, so if I want to have two food plots, five acres each and I want Early Sumac, Higeri (Hi-gear) and Crimson Clover.... How much do I need and what's the total cost?"
       "Well, I don't have the clover. It's $2 a pound. But I can get it. I need two days notice."
       "Okay, once you get it... How much do I need and what's the total cost?"
       
       At this point, all I heard was "Blah, blah, blah." Somehow, the bottom line is approximately $15 per acre. We have 10 acres. That's $150 plus labor.

      Our other ongoing project is trying to get all our grass to grow. Water's a luxury out here.
Grass Troubles, WRP
 We have a well, but it's not exactly Niagara Falls. We can water only one hour a day. So the strategy is, water one area over and over again for a few days, move the sprinkler and water another area for a few days.
      And for the first time, I'm putting down fertilizer. We haven't had to do it in the past, but now the goal is green, full grassy areas and expensive fertilizer seems the only option.

Time to Fertilize, WRP


     By the way, fertilizer runs about $1 a pound. So in tribute to the Farm Supply fellas, if you have a 39 pound bag of fertilizer at approximately $37 per bag and each bag covers about 10,000 square feet.... We spent about........ Who am I kidding? That's a math problem for a farmer.
     Between the food plots and the grass growing scenarios, we're firing up our tractor to 'disturb' the soil in hopes of activating the sunflower seed in the soil.
      Who knew, we needed to disturb the soil? Not me. I found that out too at the feed store.
      "Sunflowers won't come up unless the soil's disturbed."
 "Disturbed?"
        "Yeah."
        "You mean plowed?"
        "Yeah or you can just disturb it."
        "Okay... like till it?"
        "Disturb it anyway you want."
        "I got a tractor and a tiller."
        "That'll do it."
        "Good. Problem solved."
        "Gonna need some water on it. Got any water."
        "Uh, no."
        "Good luck."
        "How much is sunflower seed?"
        "You want the native or the hybrid? The native's $8 lb covers about half an acre. The Hybrid's cheaper at about $4 lb but covers about 5,000 square feet."
         "I'm not gonna ask. Think I'll just disturb the soil and hope the natives come up."
         "Your call."

Bill Robertson, Someone/anyone, please tell me 2+2 still equals 4.
   

The Reluctant Gardener

     Hi everybody. I've been away from the blog biz for a few days while enjoying the Easter weekend and what a great one it was.
     I left off writing stories from our old days at The Big Apple Deli. Thank you to the many readers following our tales of laughter and misery. I'm pretty sure there are more 'episodes' to share, but for now I feel more like writing about the here and now.
     I think Teresa would agree that we're at a crossroads in our lives. She no longer teaches and I no longer broadcast any news. Nor are we in the food biz. What we are, at least for now, is a pair of glorified inn keepers at our family's ranch west of Snyder, The Windmill Ranch Preserve.
Big House Flower Beds, WRP
     One of our primary tasks is taking care of the grounds and to that end, I think I've become a 'reluctant gardener.'
     Funny thing or most certainly the unexpected thing is.... I/we enjoy diggin' in the dirt, so to speak. If you would have asked me five years ago, 10-years ago or longer, if I'd have thought about the peace in flowers--I'd have balked at the very least.
     From 1987-2005, my game was TV news... hardcore, fast-paced, 'if it bleeds-it leads' TV news. Teresa was the famous "Mrs. Wall' for 25-years in the classroom. I'm pretty sure there's not a young adult in this city/county who didn't have Mrs. Wall for fifth grade.
     Then, we both took up the crazy pace of the deli. Teresa's green thumb began to show its colorful face during this time with our buckets of flowers out front of the deli. I was still only concerned with who'd show for work and if we'd make payroll. Then, BAM! Hello, country life.
     Our thing is planting stuff from seed, most of it. T's the designer. I'm the muscle. Who knew the satisfaction that's gained from seeing dirt turn into a knee high blanket of colors? We've had both vegetable gardens and flower gardens. Without a doubt, we're flower growers.
      We've applied our enthusiasm to everything from clay pots to open pastures. After a lot of trial and error, we now focus on the beds closest to water and the ones that have produced year after year.
Pavilion Beds, WRP
     Now that the threat of frost has passed, we're concentrating on our Big House beds and Pavilion beds. This year, we're going all zinnias. We've done the wildflower mixes. They do okay, but without the correct sun and water mix, we usually end up with a lot more green spindly stalks than the hoped for collection of color.
      The Big House bed came with an old concrete border. It was obviously a foundation for something, but I don't know what. Long ago, we filled it with a mix of soil and manure from a nearby dairy. I remember because I shoveled it all into place one shovel load at a time. Over the years, we've added a touch of this and a smidge of that. Once the flowers come and go, we mulch it all up and start again.
      Each season, that starting again process includes more fertilizer mixed into the soil with the dreaded 'Claw.' It's a workout, but so far it's paid off every season.
      The drill's in place for the Pavilion beds. These are two narrow beds bordered by the pavilion's front porch and rail road ties. Our greatest success story for this area was the year of the sunflowers. The big yellow flowers with big, black eyes grew so tall that if I were standing on the porch I couldn't see you standing in the sunshine. The fencing around the perimeter is from the old days of the ranch dog, "Curly." He was my black Cocker Spaniel that chased everything and went anywhere whatever he was chasing went... including into the flowers. "Curly's" long gone, but the "Curly" fence is as sturdy as ever.
      The beds are prepped. Planting will likely begin by the end of this week. That's the easy part. Broadcast 'em. Press 'em into the ground. Walk away... Water.... Wait.
       And never a pair to fear branching out, we're trying our luck with Lavender from seed this year. Long ago, the plan for the ranch was a field of Lavender. We even have an area we call "Lavender Lane." Suffice it to say, the plants never took but the name did.
Lavender Experiment, WRP
       So on a MUCH smaller scale, we're trying Lavender from seed. The seed, if it's doing what we hope, is now germinating in it's little soil incubator in our kitchen. You can't tell from the picture, but there are upwards of 200 seeds in that cube of black soil and peat moss.
      We put the seeds in the box soil about two weeks ago. We're told Lavender takes anywhere from 10-to-30 days to germinate and break the surface. If that happens, there are about five more steps before the seedlings actually join planet earth. But just in case, we're preparing a small, full sun bed of well drained soil for a small, but potentially pleasing row of purple.
T's Flower Boxes, WRP
      If none of the above sprouts, we still have our window, flower boxes. These are all the result of Teresa's touch. The planting's the easy part. It's her constant 'dead-heading,' watering and cleaning that'll have these boxes overflowing to the ground before Independence Day.
     
Bill Robertson, I like mowing the lawn too. That's instant gratification!
   
   

Uncooperative Cows & English Bluebells

      I was going to title this blog STUPID COWS, but I think I got outsmarted and surprised by a batch of black and red bovines.  Uncoopera...