It’s been a while.
Category: oddities
See a pattern here?
Argentina
• Population: 40 million
• Possible license plate combinations: 13.8 million
• Possible license plates/person: 3.45
Chile
• Population: 19 million
• Possible license plate combinations: 32.8 million
• Possible license plates/person: 1.73
Uruguay
• Population: 3.5 million
• Possible license plate combinations: 138.2 million
• Possible license plates/person: 39.5
¿Por favor?
Reminds me of a restaurant in Athens during my ultra-cheap travel days,
where ντολμάδες on the menu was helpfully translated as ‘stufed grep lifs.’
Star Trek kumbaya
A friend’s country place includes a octagonal building with a removable center piece which conceals a fire pit. Apparently they – whoever they are – held retreats there.
The last three chairs of six and coffee table I bought used a couple years ago needed to go somewhere to free up space for our Christmas day party.
Odd house in Pando
Appearance aside, it thoughtfully offers shade to bus-waiters.
Hot sun today, just like yesterday.
A vision of Einstein in grated cheese
OK. I’ll admit it. In kindergarten my report card said, ‘Plays well with others, especially his imaginary friends.’
Our remarkable new house
We have finally taken possession of a narrow strip of farmland (5.6 hectares, 13.837901 acres) about ten kilometers inland. Most remarkable about the house is that the couple who raised their family in for twenty years or so never got around to installing running water.
The hand-dug well is only about 20 meters from the back door for your flushing convenience. I think there was a basin, since removed.
The bathroom opening (no door) lies behind this brick curtain wall, which became a pile of rubble today in less than an hour.
To the credit of the sellers – who now live a kilometer down the road in a new house with running water and a fireplace (this one had no heat source other than a wood kitchen stove in the little closet of a kitchen) – the place was clean: not a bit of crap in the house whatsoever. A few bits in that rustic (and rusty) galpon (barn), whose side sheathing consists of the sides of metal barrels that have been straightened.
Wisdom not my own
From one of a collection of notebooks lying around, which my wife wants to give our son, in hopes that somehow he’ll take notes [pay attention] and become organized or learn something, she gives me the sole used half page, from months ago.
Relaxing with the present moment, relaxing with hopelessness, relaxing with death, not resenting the fact that things end, that things pass, that things have no lasting substance, that everything is changing all the time – that is the basic message.
My goodness. When did I write that? Alas, I didn’t, not originally.
Last handwritten line: When Things Fall Apart, page 47.
I know he won’t, but still…
As I walk toward the beach, a fisherman approaches, on a red scooter, long surf-casting poles under his arm.
It makes me uneasy for a moment.
The scooter passes uneventfully.
Amazing sunset on the beach, awesome clouds
note to self: next time, take camera