In which a visit to the local fishmonger summons Schrödinger’s ghost.
Category: Atlántida
Half a lemon times two
Some people consult the Farmer’s Almanac and moon phases for best times to prune trees. I don’t.
For me, there are two “best times“ to prune a tree: 2) when I feel like it, and 1) when the wife tells me to do it, as she did today.
So, log-handled loppers in hand, directed by her, squinting into the sun, I lopped off the biggest branch first. As it fell, so did a lemon. But when I picked it up, I found half a lemon — seriously, almost exactly half a lemon, neatly sliced lengthwise.
Where was the other half? You guessed it: still attached to a branch overhead.
What are the chances of perfectly cutting in half a lemon you didn’t even see?
Well — maybe greater than one would expect with a tree that seems to be trying to communicate with us.
Strange animal spotted on dog walk
OK, you figured it out: it’s not a strange type of animal, but Kiya the dog, with her obsession for digging holes (in the middle of the path, in this case) certainly qualifies as a somewhat strange animal.
She’s quite accomplished, though. This is phase 1 of digging. In a moment she will bag up for phase 2, kicking the sand she’s just dug clear of the hole.
Treework
Amazing to watch tree workers in action. Yesterday (yes, Sunday) involved removing all the lower branches from pine trees at the house of friends.
Quite a show.
His brother removing an acacia that was leaning over the roof. Not a bit fell onto the roof in the process.
An old stump five meters high had a non-functioning light fixture on it. That was removed, stump cut down, and birds flew in to feast on the ants inside, mostly oblivious to me standing two meters away.
And another surprise: look at how the rings grew on that angled limb in the first two pictures!
I find it quite amazing that none of these trees has come down in severe windstorms during the six years the owners have been gone, but it seems much less likely now. And, a lot fewer pine needles to clear off the roof.
Fancy camera stuff
This is what happens when you push “panorama” instead of “video.” Poor little phone-computer tries to stitch together several frames in a pretty way.
Lesson (maybe) learned: don’t try to learn new features on your smartphone in bright sunlight. Probably best not to be standing on a roof as well.
Nothing to see here
But if you’re a dog, gotta look anyway.
Best to do nothing
I looked at our front door the other day.
It looks quite horrible. Thought I should:
- take it off hinges
- good going-over with recently repaired belt sander
- refinish
But then I thought, ya know, burglars are pretty good at scoping out houses. Even for a deaf potential burglar, this gives a good clue about what to expect inside. Not favorable for his undertaking.
Problem solved: do nothing. Hella less work for me, and that warm fuzzy feeling of having done an unsolicited act of kindness for a stranger I’ll never meet.
Fluffy clouds and pampas grass
Though the 200-hectare area where I walk Benji with Syd and (he and Gundy’s) five dogs features trashed campsites, crude shelters, and random and totally gratuitous trash dumps, and is no doubt much less appealing than when it was forest, mostly burned in 2009,
it can still be rather stunning.
An electrical issue
We had episodes like this all day. Then I heard simultaneous zapping noises from the line outside. A friend called the electric company for us and explained it was centelleando (sparking, which she said would get them here quickly, and sure enough within thirty minutes a brand new UTE Ford pickup appeared. I pointed toward the line and that’s where I heard it. Up ladder, new connector, and chau. All normal again.
Some Atlántida architecture and history
It was a beautiful day Monday for taking pictures.
Atlántida started in 1911 as a summer playground for wealthy Montevideans, and the architecture reflects that.
Along the Rambla La Mansa:
There are a number of whimsical houses, including this one that I’ve never seen occupied on the Rambla La Brava:
And then there’s Edificio El Planeta.
First, a quick Spanish lesson: el planeta means the planet, and it seems like it should be la planeta. There a few Spanish words that don’t play well with rules.
Built in the 1930s in just one year (did Uruguayans once work fast?), it served as Planeta Palace Hotel until 1954. It looks like a ship preparing to steam out to sea, and was very fancy in its day, with private baths, hot water, and heating (heating? In Uruguay?). After the hotel’s closure, it was divided and sold as propiedad horizontal (i.e., condos). It was declared a national historical monument in 2005.
