An inquisitive old fart with a camera
When it’s time to get rid of the old CRT TV or computer monitor, you don’t leave it in one of the hundreds of containers put out for that purpose by the municipality, you somehow drag it into the middle of nowhere and leave it there instead.
Because that’s what Grandpa would have done.
“It’s the way we’ve always done it.”
I saw this a couple days ago, before heavy rain all night. Neatly stacked just in case someone….
Some encyclopedias from 1999, other stuff that seemed equally uninteresting.
You might recall there is sometimes a sheep to say hello to on our neighborhood walks. It’s in the same yard where a large tree fell and took out part of the fence, and is now sporting a few meals’ worth of mushrooms.
Not for us – we’ve found them rather nasty every time we’ve tried – but apparently also not for the sheep.
Oh well!
For years, I have wondered about rectifying the horrible plumbing we inherited in our back yard. It always seemed a little silly, since it would involve breaking up part of the patio we had installed. The exact tiles we used are no longer available, so the new ones wouldn’t match perfectly.
But recently I asked our contractor about it, and he said no problem! And when he says that, he means it.
Not only did the drain include a zigzag design, it also had a buried (inaccessible) elbow and substandard pipe, some of which turned out to have been broken.
I don’t find most construction projects particularly gratifying, but this improvement is actually exciting. Because, you see, three or four times a year I had to pry up all the junction box covers, put on long rubber gloves, and force a stiff plastic tube through the pipes connecting them—and yes, the one with the elbow was a bitch—when they got clogged up with grease that shouldn’t have, but somehow got beyond the grease trap.
Nasty job. No more!
BTW the gray square on the garage floor is a closed-off junction box. From four to two—so delightfully uncomplicated!
It’s hard to convey how huge this collar-less puppy is. Like a cross between a bear and a horse. I can say, however, that we were relieved to see that he did not intend to go on the walk with us today. Something about 60 kilos of puppy crashing through the undergrowth and charging by on narrow bits of path, as the one time he did, makes a walk a little less relaxing.
In 1965, the population of Uruguay was 2.68 million (current 3.36 million).
Wikipedia: The Executive Tower (Spanish: Torre Ejecutiva) is the official workplace of the President of Uruguay. It is located in front of the Plaza Independencia, in Barrio Centro, Montevideo.
The original project was started in 1965 as a future Palace of Justice, but the 1973 coup d’état interrupted it.[1] By the time the military government ended in 1985, the building was too small for the Uruguayan justice system, so the project remained halted for decades until in March 2006, President Tabaré Vázquez decided to finish the building and use it as an extension of the Estévez Palace.[2] The President’s offices were transferred there from the Liberty Building in September 2009.
In 1873, the population of Uruguay was around 0.4 million.
Wikipedia: The Estévez Palace (Spanish: Palacio Estévez) is a building situated in Plaza Independencia, Montevideo, Uruguay, designed in a combination of Doric and Colonial styles by Manoel de Castel in 1873. It has served as the working place of the President of Uruguay and has been eventually converted to a museum, housing artifacts and mementos of the Uruguayan presidency and its office holders.
The Palacio Estévez is the little gem to the left in the photo above. Ah, the good old days.
Home delivery of schawarma, lemeyun (Armenian pizza), falafel, baklava: what’s not to like?
Perhaps the fact that my photo wasn’t detailed enough to get the phone number? But hey. Took about two minutes to figure it out.
…leaving three intact. We’ve been getting a lot of double yolkers lately. Young commercial hens?
(It happens in old hens too, but commercial hens don’t live to be old.)
Yesterday morning, I stopped a half block away from the garbage truck workers. Most car drivers have some respect for occasionally ditzy dogs, but garbage truck drives go fast. Best to stay clear.
The lift on the back didn’t work too well, perhaps because—duh—there wasn’t enough space in the truck. Stuff kept spilling out. They lowered the container, compressed the load, and picked up most of what it had dumped in the middle of the road.
Which reminds me that…
This morning, approaching from the other side, I see that apparently a neighbor, perhaps Tabaré whom I met recently, cleaned up the bit in the road.
All the other stuff? One day, probably fairly soon as summer tourist season is winding down, they’ll come around with a loader and dump truck. Not pretty, admittedly, but eventually things do get cleaned up.
And once again, time for Uruguayan pre-schoolers to dress up as 19th century Chinese peasants (sans chapeaux), while elementary dress up as…as…as something somebody 100 years ago decided would serve social equity by making all students look equally ridiculous?
Dunno. I’m open to suggestions.
And, oh yeah—there, I fixed it.