For the third time in twelve and a half years, I have power of attorney or house keys for someone not here. This time it’s keys for a guy who died and whose wife is a home with Alzheimer’s. A happy discovery was that they have a substantial number of books. Real, paper books like I rarely read anymore. I tried this one years ago but found it boring. Now it fascinates me.
The physiology of the eyeball and…well, then there’s this Post-it note as a bookmark:
Our neighbor Alvarito in his tiny house is quite the organizer. The park project, a children’s book swap (the refrigerator, and public service notices opposite our neighbors’ new and classy minimercado.
However, this puzzles me. Why would anyone, ever wanta flu injection? We’ve had 20 minutes of sun in the last three days. What does your body do with sun exposure? Creates vitamin D. What does vitamin D do, among other things? Keeps you from getting sick.
The idea that health comes out of a needle is probably THE propaganda masterpiece of the Rockefeller-pharmaceutical-medical industry. Get injected with toxins designed for last year’s “strain” to get well.
You may recall that I don’t actively monitor our “neighborhood watch” Whatsapp group. But when I did, I saw that someone said he had gotten a cassette player, but didn’t know if it worked because he didn’t have a cassette to test it.
Which reminded me of the silliest thing Syd brought to Uruguay 15 years ago (we all have one, or maybe a list of silly things): cassettes, probably 200 of them, never played since, as far as I know. So I arranged for them to find a new home! And a short while later received from the new owner a short video of his new music library in action.
I had a little bout of getting things done the other day. This included a trip to the place the garbage trucks go (10 years ago I also didn’t know what it is called), with a small plastic bag of lithium batteries, a lead acid battery from the defunct alarm system we removed while renovating the casita, a compact fluorescent light bulb, and half a liter of glyphosate, purchased probably 12 years ago when I didn’t realize how nasty that shit is. I didn’t want a liter, but that’s what I ended up with.
Anyway, here’s the rear axle of a garbage truck, resting on a stump, huge brake drum and pads, and a child’s plush toy.
A jet flew overhead, and out of curiosity I looked it up on flightradar24.com, finding this far more interesting flight path. A helicopter, obviously checking for something, finally returning to MVD
where it probably landed on the “X.”
What was it? Here things get strange.
It’s listed as a privately owned Bell 212 helicopter, illustrated with an image of a private jet, registered in the United States. That is certainly no private jet path, especially with an altitude as low as 50 feet at one point! And I seriously doubt a US registered chopper is doing surveillance in Uruguay.
But the jet is easily explained: N845RL is a US-registered jet. About which the photographer writes, “I have no idea what this private Learjet 45 is doing at Aero Sports Fair 2002 in Brazil wearing US Registration and flag. Anyway, welcome!”
Flightradar24 also says the helicopter private, which I doubt, however
I find no government Bell 212 helicopter registered in Uruguay. But the Wikipedia article mentions the military version called the Bell UH-1N Twin Huey, and
I know the Uruguayan Air Force has those.
While this is going on, I sent Syd a message with a link to the flight path which was very near his house (a couple times it got close enough to us that I could hear it, but I never saw it).
And he replied that he had just been watching the TWO helicopters, one white and one black, directly overhead. Being a bright day, the “black” may well have been military green, but the white? And why only one on the radar?
A bit of strangeness to make the day more interesting.
Our little freezer in the casita died, fortunately not containing nothing more valuable than a few kilos of doggie hamburger (but oh did it stink after four days!). A prompt home visit by technicians (under USD 12) determined the motor was dead, meaning repair would cost more than replacing the whole thing. So how to get rid of it? One of the guys suggested there was a number for the intendencia you could call.
I still haven’t found that, but I did find a map of home waste collection, showing the different zones, neatly color-coded. Aha! This might be useful! But no, that’s it: just that. No schedules, no legend.
