Thursday, October 27, 2022
Wednesday, October 26, 2022
Preparing
We've decided to add an adjacent ranch to our holdings, some 10,000
acres. The owners wanted $1,000 an acre for it but there have been no
takers for years because there's not a lot that can be done with it
-- limited livestock grazing potential is about it, plus, with care, one annual crop of alfalfa hay, probably mostly Grade 2, some Grade 1 -- so they
were happy to have us take it off their hands for a comparatively modest
sum.
But it does have water, and water in the west is more valuable than gold
and silver. But we'll put this acreage in a conservation reserve
program (lower taxes!) and leave the water where nature wants it. We'll
also do a lot of restoration work planting native vegetation to help
re-establish a flourishing ecosystem.
As
we completed the sale, the owners of a 6,000-acre ranch adjacent to our
new holdings came to us offering a very reasonable price for their
ranch. It was inherited land they did not know what do do with and
wanted to be rid of. We were happy to acquire it and for
now, at least, also put it in a conservation reserve program.
So in
total we've added some 25 square miles to our fiefdom. There's lots of
game on the new land. Aside from some roads and a few other
improvements, most of it looks just as it did before the white man
came. That is, unless you are a botanist and can recognize all the
invasive species. And spot the changes caused by a lowered water table
and hard-panning in a few places.
Tuesday, October 25, 2022
Wednesday, October 12, 2022
Baby Blue
Art Laboe, the legendary DJ who passed away recently, broadcast a dedication to me on my birthday when I was in an
overseas DoDEA high school. It played over Armed Forces Radio Pacific,
as it was then called. The request wasn’t called in but mailed in some
time in advance, but Laboe made it happen on the right date.
The song was “Baby Blue” by the Echoes, popular decades before I was
born, but it seemed fresh and new to me. I still remember hearing that
dedication over the radio and being amazed and thrilled. And I still
love that song.
The boy who dedicated it to me, a service brat as was I, I had known since we were seven years old. Parental transfers meant we often didn't see each other for years, but we always kept in touch, and it was always assumed by both of us that we would marry. We were meant for each other. There could be no doubt.
Then 9/11 happened and as soon as he was old enough, even though he had been accepted at the Jacobs School of Engineering at UC San Diego, he postponed his education to join the Marine Corps. He was wounded in the fighting at Najaf and after a series of infections and amputations lasting more than a year, died of septic shock.