Como trasplantar

I had a problem. A little palm plant wouldn’t grow in the sandy soil of our home near the beach, so I moved it to the country as a little accent. A year or two later, that little accent was three meters high, growing inside as well as outside the carport, which I had obviously placed it way too close to.

I cut it down to under a meter high, and here it is a couple months later.

Time to move it again. So, with pick and shovel I worked and worked and worked and … that thing might as well have been set in concrete. So I wondered if my neighbor Jerry might enjoy a little challenge. I have never operated a backhoe, so the chances of me getting the thing out of the ground without also removing the carport as well were slim to none.

Jerry thought it sounded like a fine idea. And so…

The face-off.

Jerry comes in on the left.

And on the right, within an inch of the concrete pad. At this point, the plant is still showing little to no sign of budging. So…

… taking the plant off guard, he comes in from the side. And the plant comes out of the ground.

I spent 40 minutes chipping at the root ball to remove clay, and the thing was still too heavy for me to lift. But with an AAAAARGH!!!! I did anyway, got it in the car, and brought it to Atlántida.

Here it is in its new home, planted in sand but with a wheelbarrow full of compost, and my promise to give it as much water as it could possibly want.

Ya veremos. We will see.

Compost attacks

Something — a comedreja, possum — has been attacking my worm composter the last few nights.

The door I didn’t install real well on the compost barrel, thinking i could harvest from the bottom, is at present also no match for the little critter(s).

The barrel has a metal lid after this incident three years ago:

I still don’t know why it ended up dead, even if it couldn’t get out. Plenty to eat, and it wouldn’t have been more than 24 hours.

Oh, sorry, you wanted to look inside the worm composter? Pieces of orange and onion got in there by mistake. The slugs are a new addition.

What a difference a ladder makes

Several years ago, I created a wood-slat drop ceiling with fiberglass insulation on the north (sun) facing roof over our bedroom. With only an extension ladder it was quite precarious and rather scary. Returning Americans gifted us a tall step ladder, and so I’m finally getting around to necessary repairs.

And it’s no big deal. Now.

My “ghetto” gutter

Several years ago, a departing northerner gave me a short length of plastic gutter, hangers, and a couple other pieces which I installed on our barbacoa. Recently I’ve been inspired — mostly by the unexpected gift of an extra 3-meter gutter section by apparently incompetent employees in a local business that I’m told is a front — to expand it to the full length of the barbacoa. With rain coming yesterday evening, I was eager to get it put together.

Then I discovered that the existing elbow was not in fact 45°, but more like 60°. This is not my first 45° angle problem in Uruguay.

But hey —

— it worked.

This is a little better, but I’m still not finished. Despite finally learning how to drill holes in walls correctly, I must have hit iron inside the concrete column on one side, so the bracket is more decorative than functional at this point. And maybe I need to splurge on another hanger for the downspout end. Oopa!

Why does the downspout end at knee level, instead of ground level? Well, to paraphrase Donald Rumsfeld, — no, I really don’t want paraphrase that hideous creature who unleashed the neurotoxin aspartame on the world — let’s just say “I worked with what I had.”

Taco wisdom

When we installed an “inverter” split (DC, variable, no motor noise) in our bedroom, we moved the noisy split (AC/heater/dehumidifier) unit to our dining room. Finally, today, I mounted its remote control to the wall, removing two pieces of clutter from the counter top.

But that’s not the story. In north North America, hanging something on a wall is pretty simple, dealing with drywall and (usually) wood studs. In south North America, and South America, our home for ten years, you deal with a different situation: plaster and brick walls. In Uruguay the requisite plastic expanding anchors are called Tacos Fisher, and I’ve often found myself sticking wood slivers or broken toothpicks alongside them because the hole ends up too big.

Until I figured it out.

To install a wall anchor, do not drill a hole.

This will be obvious to a machinist, or someone who has worked a lot with metal, but I am neither. You don’t drill a hole: you drill a hole twice, the first time with a smaller drill bit. You then use the proper-size drill as a reamer.

Voilá!

I can’t believe it took me over nine years to figure that out :0

Heat remediation in an uninsulated house

Typically uninsulated Uruguayan house cieling — Adding a little R to the north (sun)-facing side of the bedroom ceiling

On the other side of the aluminum-backed fiberglass insulation I’ve installed, there’s more of the thin tongue-and groove paneling wood (lambriz), a layer of sheet plastic, wood strips, and clay tiles. During the summer, the north-facing roof tiles take the sun all day, radiating heat to make our bedroom the hottest room in the house in summer.

And the coldest in the winter, with nothing but 1 cm of pine for insulation at the peak where the hot (well, warmer anyway) air gathers.

And oh by the way, yes, being up that ladder like that is a little crazy.

DIY project 95% complete…

Finally got around to building a railing for the upstairs balcony. A few details still to go, but meanwhile looks like it’s always been there, which is of course the point.

I knew they were ugly, but didn’t realize how bad those drip marks look until I saw them in the photo. Would be a snap to clean them from above if not for that damned railing.

N.B. – with frequent trips to our country place and its dirt road – not to mention the dirt road we live on – trying to keep the car clean is a fool’s errand.