Weather Hysteria

Weather forecasters in other parts of the nation seem to be highly respected. If you're predicting tornadoes, hurricanes, ice storms, and other such things, what you say is obviously important.

This is not so in California. There is rarely any weather drama here. So the weather people contrive it.

This was in early February, when we were expecting a storm in our area.

OMG! Massive amounts of water are coming to the entire West Coast! Start building the ark.

Of course, this is talking more about the coastal areas, where it usually does rain heavier than in the Central Valley. But the foothills are also at risk!

IF! IF! It could be 12-18 inches, and that would be an unprecedented disaster. Sure. And Hell could freeze over, too. Is it likely that much rain would fall in my area? No. I can recall the worst storm in my lifetime (back in the 1980s). It was maybe 3 or 4 inches in one day. That was way more than this valley could handle easily. Does no one in the weather department pay attention to precedent? Probably not, most of them came here from the Midwest last week, to get work experience in a larger market than their hometown, Podunk, Ohio.

Here were the results after this so-called massive storm.

Kingvale, Kyburz, and Pacific House are up in the Sierras. The others are valley locations. It was a decent storm. It left a few puddles for a day or two. The grass on the hills seems a little more optimistic, but here in the valley the fields are dry and ready to plant, the day time temps are pleasant, the days are sunny. Now the weatherpeople can go back to predicting epic droughts. Which is probably closer to the truth,

Enjoy it while it lasts

The hills are green, the almond trees are in full bloom, the crop rows are ready to plant. The skies, when there is no fog, are sunny. There is no reason to wear a jacket, a vest in the morning is all you need. This is California at its best, especially appreciated while the rest of the nation is freezing.

It should last another couple of weeks, maybe to the middle of March, and then the effects of our drought will be evident and only the irrigated crops will stay green. Even now the grass on those hills is not showing much optimism.

These pictures were taken on the way to the most recent poultry show, in Ferndale. I had the luxury of a traveling partner this time. My friend Katherine is living in nearby Wilton once again. She likes to drive, and has driven my car quite a lot, so it was a treat for me to just be a passenger and enjoy the view this time.

It was a little more challenging to have two exhibitors and all our birds and traveling gear loaded into the car.

When you get everything packed this tight, though, everything stays in place if you have to stop quickly.

The entire trip was sunny and warm. Even so, it was novel to see a convertible with its top down in February.

One thing I like about the trip to Ferndale is that Dr. Bradley handles the youth activities there. It's great to visit with her at the banquet and catch up on her news.

This was a 4-H showmanship class. The girl who is handing her the hen is the niece of Matt M., who used to show against Bob back in the old days. Dr. Bradley has taught probably 3 generations of California 4-H kids the finer points of showmanship. She's retired now, but we're all fortunate that she still likes to work with the kids once in a while.

At the end of the day, Katherine and I managed to take the RCCL class. Her Rosecomb was Best RCCL and my Dominique bantam pullet was Reserve.

The next show is Fresno. Then I have to clear the show cages and show paraphernalia out of the spare room and get serious about hatching chicks again. There's a possibility of showing in Utah in March. That will depend on the weather. I won't be getting out of California if it's snowing over the passes. If the weather continues the way it has, that won't be a problem. For travel, anyway. It will surely be a problem for maintaining spring and summer crops.

Motels along the way

If one is available near a chicken show location, I'll try to stay at a Hampton Inn. I like the beds, I like the buffet breakfast, I just feel comfortable at a Hampton Inn.

Most of those hotels, though, are in newer sections of towns. Most of the poultry shows are in older parts of towns, at old fairgrounds or other facilities that are not expensive to rent, and where there are no fancy neighbors to complain about animals nearby. The show management generally makes a deal with a nearby hotel to be the "official" show hotel. There is a lower show rate, and the club can get free comp rooms for their judges if they sell enough to the exhibitors.

Sometimes this works okay. Not as good as a Hampton Inn, but okay. Other times it can be - at best - an interesting experience. I've already told you about the Wiebe Motel in Hollister.

The motel at the Modesto show was interesting, too. It was an older Clarion. The building had a very strange layout, built around an indoor pool.

In the daylight, it was well lit from the overhead sunroof. At night, however, the lighting was inadequate, and the dampness and smell of chlorine were prominent features. As one 4-H parent said, it was creepy and reminded her of Pirates of the Caribbean.

My room was a little strange, too. There were two doors, one connected to the inner hallway and one that led directly outside to the parking spaces. You could only enter through the inner door. The outer door was for exiting only, the card key would not work in it.

When I first got to my room, there were no towels. The maid soon brought some. When I tried to hang them on the rack, it broke. A call to the main desk fixed that, but I was concerned they'd think I'd stolen the towels and broke the rack myself and would charge that to my credit card.

They didn't. Another annoying thing was the bathroom sink area. I mean, really, where do you put your stuff?

They must be more accustomed to businessmen staying here. Not women or families.

Everything worked out fine by the second day. It was fun having everyone at the same hotel so we could get together in the restaurant or bar (I don't drink, but those who do are often amusing).

This past weekend I stayed at a Super 8 in Fortuna. The only problem there was not enough parking. If you got back to your room late, it was quite a walk from the nearest available space.

Next will be a Picadilly Express in Fresno, then - at last! - a Hampton Inn in Red Bluff. By the time show season is over, which happens for me in June, I will have stayed 18 nights in hotels.

Trying something new

I used to love a challenge.

Now I avoid them, if I can.

I did try one last week, though, and it was successful despite the fact that I did almost everything wrong.

I mailed some hens to a Dominique friend in Georgia. Other people mail birds all the time. I have received birds through the mail, myself. I know that it works very well. But I had never mailed them mysef. So I tackled this task in my usual plodding, methodical way.

First, I researched it thoroughly. I read everything online and talked to friends who had experience. What I discovered is that every single post office - even though they all operate under the same rules - handles this differently. Also, the rules seem to change about 4 times a year.

I carefully picked two birds to send, they were going to a breeder who also shows, so I wanted birds he could really use. I had to be careful, though, not to send him birds I still need. I washed them and kept them in the house for two days to stuff their little bellies for the trip. They liked that part.

Then I went online to USPS.com and figured out how to print out a prepaid label. The next morning I diligently got up early, loaded the birds in the box, threw in some apple slices, and taped it shut. I had to reprint the label twice because the ends of the tape stuck and pulled the printing off it. I never could figure out how to make the tape dispenser work right, I kept having to pull a piece off, stick one end to the kitchen counter, then use both hands to put the tape on the box (careful to avoid blocking any of the air holes). Here are the girls in their box.

I then got in the car and drove the box all the way across the county through nasty commute traffic to be at the main post office before it opened. Success! Sort of.

The post office, as it turns out, doesn't open for business until 9 a.m. Oh well. Just before it did open, a fellow with a box just like mine showed up. I glanced at his box. Hmm, no tape on it. Just a zip tie at each corner. So, THAT'S what those little holes were for! I was glad I was ahead of him, my sloppily taped box would be seen before his neat one, maybe they wouldn't give me a hard time about that.

When I finally got to the counter and handed my box to the post office person, he glanced at the return address and said, "You know, our rules changed in October. You can take these to your local post office now."

Well, of course.

On the way home, I did stop at the local post office and ran that information past the fellow behind the counter. I got the eyebrows of annoyance from him. He admitted that, yes, that was the case. However they only have one Priority Express pick up every day, and that's at 6:00 p.m. I would have to bring my package in just before the office closed at 5:00 p.m. because they wouldn't want to have to listen to the birds cluck all day. Typical Rancho Murieta, suburban attitude. We have to share what used to be our rural post office with the transplanted city people. I decided if I do use a local post office, I'd take the birds a little further to Wilton, which is still a more rural area.

Anyway, the birds sat around the main post office ALL DAY. They were finally put on the Priority Express truck at 4:30 that afternoon. I'd gotten bad advice about getting them to the post office early. The next morning, though, they were in Georgia, and by noon I got this picture from their happy new owner.

I don't know if he works at a store, or if he took her shopping on the way home.

So, despite my well-planned, but wrong moves, the birds arrived promptly and safely.

I'm looking forward to mailing more birds off to new homes soon. When I can decide which ones they are. Remember, indecision is part of my personality.