Rut Roh Shraggy!

We all knew it would come down to this. And the time is nigh. It’s sweatin’ bullets time for yer favorite owner/builder in New Mexico.: (Nothin’ a few sedatives won’t stave off until I concoct an alternative method.) The money is runnin’ out.

I’m gonna leave that ‘dog’ lay, since there ain’t much that can change it right now. Just thought I’d toss it out there so’s y’all don’t think I have an unlimited flow of cash or anything. Everything of late has been going so well, it’s only reasonable to expect a shutdown in some manner. It’ll work out, I’m not too worried. (Only ‘cause the sedatives are REALLY effective.)

School’s out for summer! I’m not quite in vacation mode yet since I have to go move my stuff from my current room to my new room manana. I was informed on Friday, though, that I WILL be teaching the senior AP English classes!! That’s a heck of a recognition, and gift, on the part of the admin to me. I’ll be worthy of their faith in me. I may lose my mind, but, I’ll be worthy. My sophomores will hate me, since I don’t think I’m gonna get them in pre-AP English for next year. I asked to keep them, but…Heck, I damn near BEGGED to keep ‘em, truth be told. I’ll pay dearly for it next year when they find out. Or before, since a handful of the sophs. read my blog. I’m dead!

Power tools zinged to life by 7:30 this a.m., but only after two diesel truck engines thrummed through The Tin Can to alert me to the fact that my vacation may have started, but there was work to be done at the build site. And people complain to me about how busy they are!!

Crew #4 has five crew members and they all move with purpose, direction and focus to their respective tasks. Me? I plopped my narrowing ass down in a lounge chair with a glass of milk and two cigarettes and enjoyed a bleary view of them working while I supervised. It’s good to be the Office of the Exchequer (check writer.) I had to hold off on having my little umbrella drinks, however. It was only 7:45 a.m. By 5 p.m. I’ll be handing beers out to everyone. It IS Memorial Day, after all.

Right at noon today I took out a bowl of sliced seedless watermelon to the crew. Yes, I am SOOO horrible to work for, ain’t I?

“Red” the ranch hand stopped his truck to talk with me around 8-ish. There’s just something about a cattleman who spits his wad o’chewin’ tabaccy on the floor of his truck that says something. I just have have to smile while I try to figger out just what it says. His dog Earl is pregnant again. (Yes, Earl is a girl. We’ve covered this ground before.) “Red” says this’ll be her last litter. He’s gonna get her fixed. Maybe I’ll add to my dog pack and get a coupla pups from him. Earl’s pretty calm, listens well, and can get up in “Red’s” truck from the driver’s side door and to her seat on the passenger side only after making “Red” do some undignified contortions to let her across the floorboard. Life out here is just a hoot!

The bond beam, the structural muscle of the whole house, despite all the flaws left by crews #1 & 2 (crew #3 didn’t do nuthin’, so they can’t be blamed for anything in this realm) will be poured on Thursday. It’s the day of reckoning for me. That’s when the waterworks will begin. I’m staying in town just for that. Well, for both events—the bond beam pour and my time to cry. I think the crew is bustin’ their butts so they can be here for my moment of weakness. I’ll just dock ‘em pay for wasting time. (That’s one money saving measure, if nothing else.) Trusses will go up after the bond beam dries a bit, and the inspection clears.

Friday morning a bunch of kids trashed the two new Academies at the high school. My room was not targeted, but a room two doors down was and the Career Academy (all voc. ed. classrooms) were totally destroyed. They think they caught one of the perps when they busted a kid for dealing just off grounds later in the day and found cuts on his hands. Yup! We’re the heart and soul of a brain trust here in Belen! (And NO, the kid wasn’t one of ‘mine’!...for once!)

My wireless network is down. Been down, so I’m doing a lot of typing on my iPhone. It’s a pain in the butt, but still cool as hell!

Stephanie, one of the crew who’s living on-site, and I were sitting and enjoying the wind outdoors yesterday. We saw a pair of desert quail be-bop boppin’ across the property. This was our second sighting of them in a week. Since my fridge is full I left the .12 gauge in TTC. I’ll wait for the little feathered beasts to get bigger, and my fridge emptier before I think about having the two of ‘em fer dinner one night. And I do love a well-cooked quail or two for dinner.

Lil’ Bit, Little Bun and about a half dozen jack rabbits were kerplunking in the arroyo a few evenings ago. They were fun to watch. Jolene, C’n N’s cat, reverts to feral behavior when she’s here. She caught a whiff of Lil’ Bit last night, but Carolyn scooped Jolene up before she could start to stalking Lil’ Bit. As well Carolyn should’ve—I told her that any bunnies that are harassed by Jolene will result in Jolene resting under a small pile of rocks and an itty-bitty marker on my property. Bunnies RULE up here at T2tWRanchita!!

So, there y’all have it. The lastest and greatest from here in the desert Southwest. I’ll get back at ya after…manana.

We’re Off To See The Lizard

(No, not you, UNMLiz. Nice intact ego you’ve got, though;)
Howdy, Y’all! I stole this postings title from Jimmy Buffet. It’s the least I could do since I’ve thieved most of all the other titles from someone profounder than me.

Yes! Things are looking up here at T2tW ranchita. (If it weren’t for the small handful of my students reading my blog I’d explain what T2tW means. Let’s just wait for the kids to finish their freshman year and then I’ll expose the meaning, ‘k, ‘cause they’ll be more ‘mature’ after finals.)

So, C ‘n N (Carolyn ‘n Norbert) and Stephanie and Steve have been humping buckets of pumice slurry up ladders and scaffolds and nearly every single wall, interior and exterior, have been backfilled! They’ve been flying through this tedious and demanding stage and I’m back to lovin’ this project again. It’s a great state of mind to re-realize, and be in. I’m sure y’all would rather hear me gush on in a cheerful manner than deluging you with all the nasty impediments that have been a plague upon my house. (Gads! This English teacher gig o’mine is getting super-scary if I can pull THAT quotation outta nowhere and make it fit so…fittingly. School’s out in a week. That should free up my brain cells for more off-beat Murphisms.)

The difference in the work that Crew #1 (I’m distancing myself from them any way I can that doesn’t involve a lawyer yet) and Crew #4 is vivid. The rough edges, unleveled sections, and just plain UGLY work has all been given a good German going over and has been made to conform to our collective vision and expectation. Instead of my gut clenching up as I drive the last mile up the road to the abode like it has for the last 9 months, I’m actually bustin’ out in a smile, knowing that the house will look even better each and every day. And it is. And does. What a relief! What joy!

The place still looks like a post-war European cathedral, but the bombed out feel to it is gone. Somehow. Maybe it’s just me and my reduced stress from finally being able to release my hatred for being screwed over so badly in so many ways and so many times. Just a thought. JUST REALITY!

I’ve already warned C ‘n N (& S)—[Which would make them, soon, with me included: MSSNBC {Me, Stephanie, Steve, Norbert, Brett—joining us next week—Carolyn}. I scare me with thinkings like this. No, collectively, none of you are not alone in your fear.]--not to think I’ve loosened any screws in my head if any of ‘em see me standing around quietly crying in the next week or so. Just imagining that the walls and bond beam will be completed and the vigas, posts and beams and (ceiling) decking going up makes me misty-eyed. And ya know what? I’m going to indulge myself in a damn good cry ‘cause I frikkin’ deserve it! So there…Ppppppplllllllbbbbbbbb!

There will be NO CAMERAS allowed for that particular event.

So, The Banker Man Who Will Never Take Off His Underoos is about to see what being given a “Murphy” is all about. This guy is…(literally 433 NASTY descriptors flood my brain, but I must contain them all as there are spies about) a gol’ dang (children, cover your eyes, please) muthafuckinmalegenitalsuckinsonovabitch! My wrath is soon to be unrestrained where he’s involved. I nearly let loose with both barrels on him today, but I only had one shell in the gun. Lucky…hick (rhymes with hick, anyway. Starts with a PR….) If Leslie wasn’t running interference I’d be up for…some…crime. Yes, Leslie is still my Broker Angel. What a demanding job, and my plentiful Thank Yous are a lame currency after all this time, sincere though they may be.


The Tin Can is rocking on a tempest tossed sea once again. For three days now. Which is one day less than the point in time that I took down the plastic window insulation ‘cause it was roasting in here. What’s the name of that Law that says that is exactly what will happen, at the worst possible time, with the worst possible results? Mulroney’s Law? No…ummm McElroy’s? Nope… McConahgy’s Law, maybe? Ah hell, I’ll think of it.


It’s been raining for two days now. The winds have been stiff, brutal tonight, the temps down, and I’m back to wearing my insulated chore coat, my Jeep fleece, my Anne Bonney hoody and a fleece watchcap. The serape is back up over the door of TTC. I’m kinda enjoying hearing three parts of MSSNBC complain about the high (dry) seas adventures of late. I merely keep welcoming them to my world. Heh heh heh. And so many of you think I embellish. I have witnesses now! I’m thinking I should rename this spot on the globe the Sargasso Seabed. It’s pretty damn close to being what the Sargasso Sea is to the Atlantic. (Google it.)
OK. I’m done. I’m switching the iPhone’s iPod from shuffle to Soundtracks and nodding off to The Wizard of Oz, just like in the days of yore. I’m off to see the lizard, y’all!
Good night and good luck!
Manana, mes amis!

And the Walls Came Tumbling Down

OK. Only parts of walls and all of the adobe bricks from the kiva fireplace came down. Since most of the structure has held up to the steady onslaught of the winds here, Norbert, Carolyn and Stephanie have all voted that the house may just be ok after all.

Yes, y’all, work crew #4 has arrived and all is well on the Western, Eastern, Northern and Southern Fronts of the house. Our collective fears were quelled after the transit measuring was completed and nothing that crews 1, 2, and 3 did was a death sentence for the build or my finances. And that’s just the start of the good news! While the man in the too tight underoos at the bank is his usual overly-tight-sphinctered self and still questioning every breath I take, especially when my breath contains the words “ draw request”, everything else is swell and dandy. Even at school.

Remember how my view of my world proved that if work at the build site went well then I was guaranteed to have a lousy day at school, and visa versa? That proven theory is now out the window and school continues to go well with each passing day (only 2 weeks of class instruction left and a week of half days and finals left to go, minus one day—and, trust me, the staff knows how many exact seconds, minutes, and hours that is. The kids won’t do the math, so they’re still counting in weeks. Which explains my lack of calculation—I’m the English teacher: It ain’t over ‘til the curtain drops.)

Norbert is not all good news. He expects to be here until August. That will cause problems with the loan transfer. We’re hoping to elude that conflict. I’ll let ya know how it resolves itself. I’m sure it will. There’s been more work done here in 3 days than ever happened in 3 weeks with the past crews. Well, the one crew that lasted more than 3 weeks, anyway.

It’s been a journey. An adventure, too, but more like a journey; along the lines of Odysseus in The Odyssey. I’m my own worst enemy, but I still manage to get my heels out of the fire just in time to look like a heroine. OK, I’m not THAT skilled, but I’m not looking like the total shmuck every single hour of every single day of this past year that I felt like. We’ve only been at this for 9 months, give me a few months and we’ll see how it ends.

When it comes to this project I’ve made plenty of bad choices and carried on through times that I should’ve cut the ropes that bound me, ad nauseum, but the final outcome is really what matters most. Or so I’m told. I keep looking to that end and am letting the cow chips fall where they may: On my head, in my face, or really, really close by me. Granted, they’re close by enough to stink, but they aren’t leaving no telltale skid marks. It’s all good.

If I ain’t learninin’ I ain’t livin’ is the way I see it. And I’m livin’ as full a life as I can muster these days.

Muster. Musky. Must…get…hot…water…heater…fixed….There’s good news on that point of order, too. I swapped out the old thermo coupler for a new one ($28), still no pilot light staying on to light the main burner. Norbert futzed with it a bit ($25/hr.) and we both came to the same conclusion (priceless): The main valve unit was toasted. A new one was ordered today and should be in Wednesday ($100-$135. So much for the Mastercard advertising formula.) What’s two more days of boiling a pot of water in the evening to ‘bathe’ in and another in the a.m. to wash my hair with after nearly a month, I ask you? (‘Priceless’ comes back into the formula.)




There’s no need for the propane heater much anymore, either, except for a couple of warm up cycles just before dawn, so I’m not having to chase down propane on Saturdays every other week anymore. That frees up some time. And gas. And potential explosions as I drive home smoking a cigarette with the propane tanks in the rear of the Jeep. Life on the edge—gotta love it. (It’s all about spice here in Nuevo Meh-hi-ko anyway. This is just one of my personal permutations of that mentality. Surprised, huh?)


I am feeling very like a slumlord lording over my 20+ acres of ‘prime real estate’ since Crew 4 has arrived. C ‘n N (Carolyn and Norbert) have their work truck and 1976 travel trailer parked on the south side of the house (I’m on the north side) and Stephanie has her work truck and a VW Vanagon close to C ‘n N’s. It’s a veritable trailer park here now. And I’m pretty dang sure that there’s been phones ringing off the desk at the Tierra Grande Homeowner’s Association office with complaints about how the neighborhood and property value is plummeting. I’ll just tell ‘em I’m a republican and this is what my president has brought around, even for republicans. That outta produce some confusion among the dim lights around here;)








OK, so spring is flowering, and so is my mood. Enjoy the pics of tiny desert flowers. It’s all a dry desert can support until the monsoons hit in August/September. And! There’s another new baby bunny living under The Tin Can! Teeny tiny; just out on it’s own in the last day or two. She’s as big as Baby Bun was when she first came to live under TTC. So, naturally, I’m confused as to what to call the new one since Baby Bun is more like Adolescent Bun now—if not Adult Bun. I’ve decided that Baby Bun will always be Baby Bun to me, so the new tyke has been dubbed Lil’ Bit Bun. If I can get a pic of either one I’ll post it. Pet pics are always a good way to end a show.

Manana!