…except that it’s December.

The season officially starts in two weeks, at which point I’ll have to take the dog to the beach first thing in the morning, or not at all.
An inquisitive old fart with a camera
…except that it’s December.

The season officially starts in two weeks, at which point I’ll have to take the dog to the beach first thing in the morning, or not at all.
I walk dog/s most days.
In over four years in Uruguay, I’ve never seen an abandoned soccer ball on the side of the road.
So today…
…OK, OK, you’re thinking, he’s going to say that today he saw an abandoned soccer ball on the side of the road.
Wrong!
Two.


Today it was gas-bombing the casita (little house) for termites in the roof. Yesterday it was cleaning the grasera (grease trap) which was overflowing, which smells (probably) like spilled and broken human guts. My son gagged. I had to complete the task on my own.
Being the one who knows how to conjugate verbs and speak complete sentences in Spanish, I went with my son to DNIM’s closest office in Géant, a shopping center not far from the airport, to get the third renewal of his provisional cédula (ID card), permission in hand from the glacially slow office of Migración.
No no no they couldn’t do that, says DNIM, because they needed an apostilled copy of his birth certificate with official translation, and I had to take a letter to the central DNIM office requesting a renewal. A friend wrote the letter, and I took it to the central office, where we went though the whole thing again about the apostilled copy of his birth certificate with official translation, because they only have the scanned translation we paid for the first time, and something about the Registro Civil and some other office of foreign affairs, but she asked for my phone number, wrote it on the letter, and said she’d call.
Which she did Friday evening, saying I needed to go by the central office para notificarse, to be notified of something.
So today I rode the bus into Montevideo, went to their office, and at the third desk was told the request had been authorized, and here’s the number to call at Géant to sort out a time to go there. I did a couple of other piddly things in Montevideo, but basically spent the whole afternoon garnering as much information as could be conveyed in a phone call in thirty seconds. Or an email.
Time is cheap here—as my son learned last summer, when he worked as a cook for a brief period.
*The official name of the country is La República Oriental del Uruguay, which means The Country to the east of the Uruguay (River), which further means that the country does not have a name, but rather a description. Suitably inscrutable.

Far as I can tell, all the houses near this fire remain completely unoccupied (seasonal). My best guess is the gardeners who maintain the yards dumped the trimmings there, lit them on fire, and left.
Fortunately, there’s little chance of it spreading, and aside from an occasional thatch roof, little in the way of structures that are flammable.

A little visual symphony as the morning sun hits the beveled mirror at the far right. Though a visual artist, and author of a book on perspective drawing, I have no idea what’s going on with the reflections. Notice the shadow of a plug in the white patch on the left.
What little this has to do with Uruguay: the wall on the left faces almost south. As we approach the summer solstice, the rising sun now shines on the south wall of our house morning and evening.
Given the heavy rain yesterday, I was eager to see if our tajamar had filled. According to locals, after the first filling, the draining water seals any porous regions, and the pond becomes more watertight.

Well, maybe the rain was coastbound. Was a little disappointed to see that the plants I transplanted at water level were still above water level after previous draining.
Meanwhile, the stuff in the corners—that I did NOT plant—appears to be thriving.
And I swear I heard a frog…

..and there’s this pretty little purple flower.
Paciencia…ya veremos. Patience…we’ll see.

I see this dog almost every day, but always on the ground. As I approached, he got to his feet to bark at me. Heavy rain at home today, and I guess he got tired of wet paws. I was in Montevideo making an appointment to get our passports and dealing with ID nonsense for our son.
(This age and condition of car, by the way, is often seen in Uruguay. Probably 25 years old, it would still fetch USD 1,500-2,000.)