An inquisitive old fart with a camera
General observations, generally during dog walks
Since it doesn’t snow in Uruguay, frost has become a substitute. But it’s always fleeting: the clear sky that reflected no radiating heat last night allows the morning sun to make quick work of the frost. And it persisted all day today, making it lovely, sunny, and almost warm at times. Now the sun has gone down again, and any semblance of warmth with it. No doubt we’ll see frost again tomorrow.
To be fair, we have had some episodes of sunshine during the last five or six days, but the overall weather theme has been dreariness. Today we had scattered clouds and bright (but not warm!) sun.
Interestingly, several years ago we were told by a solar guy that with a hot water system in Uruguay, you need to plan your tank capacity for three days without sun, on average the longest you’d need. In the short time since then, several winters have proved that quite inaccurate. We never got a solar hot water system installed – a little complicated on our house – so I don’t pay particular attention, but it seems to me there have been many stretches longer than three days without sunshine.
Anyway, a new sight today, several blocks from the end of the feria:
“Candy sweet.” A ladder up a tree, and further to the left, a gas-powered electrical generator. Since it was chilly, I didn’t hang around to learn more of the nature of the (presumed) business. There will be time, if it becomes a regular feature. More likely, though, is that it will simply go away, maybe after a couple more appearances.
And a lovely sunset, with a clear sky undimmed by criss-crossing “persistent contrails” (nudge nudge wink wink) that mar the sky almost always and almost everywhere in North America and Europe.
The other night, quite late, I let the dogs out to the back yard and a huge uproar. Grabbing the flashlight, I saw a “dead” comadreja (possum) on the grass. (“Dead:” of course it was gone the next morning.)
By daylight, I noticed something near one of our two very prolific (this year, at least) avocado trees.
Look to the top left and lower right, and you’ll see what look like mushrooms, or eggs, or – you guessed it – avocado pits.
Today, under the other, which produces larger fruit, I saw more evidence of recent activity.
That avocado skin in the foreground measures 5 inches (12.7 cm) from end to end – a serious guacamological loss.
The first tree drops fruit; this one doesn’t. Since possums are very adept climbers, I suspect this represents an unauthorized harvest.
Which is perhaps the reason I have had little scraps of fence wire hanging on the garage wall for so long. I don’t know if this will work, but the critter will have to navigate points of wire at the top, and the boards should make it difficult to get right next to the trunk. We’ll see.
If you’ve spent time in Uruguay, you may have noticed an abundance of parrots. They are quite charming until you plant fruit trees, and you find them taking a few bites out of each pear or fig.
One person told me that there weren’t always so many. It seems that the rapid increase in eucalyptus and pine planting in the past 30-40 years has given parrots very tall trees for build their nests – above the range of possums, who presumably like parrot chicks and eggs in addition to avocados.
Temperature is in the mid-50s F (12-13° C) and it just felt right to crank up the wood stove. I had the door properly resealed a couple months ago. When I last got the door redone a couple years ago, the job was sloppy, and the stove hasn’t been really tight for a long time. We were pleasantly surprised by the amount of heat coming from it – and of course forgot to dust the top before lighting. Eh, what’s a little temporary burning odor?
We don’t currently have enough doggie blankets for everywhere, but I did put some cardboard down after taking this photo, so Benji is now enjoying the warmth without vaguely thinking “something is wrong with this picture” as he lay on the cool tile floor.
The boxes above him contain a backlog of fire-starting material. I haven’t ordered firewood this year. We have a small amount of odds and ends, plus quite a bit of curupay from the deck of Tim and Loren, who left here over three years ago. I probably should think about that, since the weather’s been OK, and in the east of Uruguay, firewood is stupidly sold by weight. So, after a rain, if the wood is stored outside, you can end up spending 35% more – yep, that’s how much the wood can absorb temporarily.
So welcome winter, and we’re not quite prepared. I guess hoping it will be mild like last, resulting in an incredible harvest of avocados, starting March this year versus June the year before.
Ya veremos – we will see!
Sometime last week, I had to pick up something at our friendly local pharmacy. Almost everywhere I shop other than supermarkets, people know I prefer not to take a plastic bag if I can avoid it. So I prepared to put in my pocket the “puppy aspirin” I had just bought (can’t bring myself to tell that story just yet), the smiling little man behind the counter proudly waved a paper bag, something I’d never seen before!
Then, at the farmacia in Tienda Inglesa, the same thing, again first paper bag I’ve ever seen there.
I was reminded of the early 80s in the US, and the supermarket checkout question: paper or plastic?
Was it the same in Uruguay? Did there used to be paper bags for groceries?
Because here’s a strange thing: Plastic bags are made from oil. Uruguay has no oil. Paper bags are made from trees. Uruguay has not only an abundance of trees; it also has pulp mills.
So why are plastic bags ubiquitous in Uruguay “Natural?”
Saturday’s weather was lovely. Monday’s weather was lovely. But Sunday – !
As you look at the flooded road in front of our house, consider that it has 40 cm (~16″) deep ditches on either side.
If you search this site, you can find plenty of photos of rain damage, flooded roads, etc. But the rain was so intense this morning that we actually had a couple of inches of standing water in our back yard at one point. It’s even more amazing when you consider that we live at the beach, and under the grass there lies merely a few inches of soil, and then just sand.
I’ve got some video, but I have to learn a new video editing program before I can stitch it together, so that will be a tomorrow thing.
No, not a partridge. A pear. One and only one single lonely pear, which will be our entire harvest from this tree this year – if we’re lucky and the birds don’t get to it first.
Unfortunately, we didn’t get to see it.
Note the size of my shoe at the bottom.
Here’s a video of one that showed up at a get-together in the interior.
Here’s a video of one we encountered on a walk.
The few hundred acres of scrub bushes and pine trees we where we walk dogs has little in the way of stunning beauty, and sometimes glaring examples of human ugliness, but it does not have thousands of people like the beach.
And it almost always has fascinating little discoveries, like these lines in the sand.
They must have been caused by wind and the grass, but how exactly they managed to make those outward curves was not at all clear.