Friends did a lot of clearing in the overgrown yard of the house they’re renting here.
One long piece of wood that was perfect for their clothesline …

…decided to start growing again.
An inquisitive old fart with a camera
Friends did a lot of clearing in the overgrown yard of the house they’re renting here.
One long piece of wood that was perfect for their clothesline …

…decided to start growing again.

Time to replace the ceiling fan in our bedroom, a job I was not going to do myself — too high. The electrician brought a four-part folding ladder that wasn’t tall enough, and neither would my extension ladder work. By itself.

Since I had just started a massage in the next room when he arrived shortly after 2 PM (having said he’d be there at 10 AM), he poked around in my workshop, found rope and wire, and assembled this. My ladder is on the left; his is folded over it. Rope, many pieces of wire….
Hey, it worked!
But how did he transport a ladder on a motorbike?

Easy! Notice the tool box balanced in front of him as well.
I’ve been reading a fascinating book called Natural Born Heroes: Mastering the Lost Secrets of Strength and Endurance.
Christopher McDougall’s journey begins with a story of remarkable athletic prowess: On the treacherous mountains of Crete, a motley band of World War II Resistance fighters—an artist, a shepherd, and a poet—abducted a German commander from the heart of the Axis occupation. To understand how, McDougall retraces their steps across the island that birthed Herakles and Odysseus, and discovers ancient techniques for endurance, sustenance, and natural movement that have been preserved in unique communities around the world.
His search takes us scrambling over rooftops with a Parkour crew in London, foraging for greens with a ballerina in Brooklyn, tossing heavy pieces of driftwood on a Brazilian beach with the creator of MovNat—and, finally, to our own backyards. Natural Born Heroes will inspire readers to unleash the extraordinary potential of the human body and climb, swim, skip, throw, and jump their way to heroic feats.
Parkour has been on my radar for a while. Not that, pushing mid-60s, I’m not going to be jumping walls and climbing buildings any time soon, but the basic moves seem very practical, especially rolling after dropping a distance (as opposed to tearing your knees apart). It also inspired me to start doing pull-ups again. One of the first things I did when we moved here was install a pull-up bar. It’s been mostly idle.

Not the case 15 years ago in North Carolina, where it hung poolside outside my office door. At one point one of my son’s teenage friends was over and I did 14 in a row for him. Starting out now a few weeks ago, it was three. Now it’s six. And maybe if I keep up at this rate, in six months I’ll be able to do the Parkour essential, but *wow* difficult muscle up: where you grab the bar and end above it, with your arms straight below you. It’s how you can get over a high wall.

Which brings me to Leo.
I met Leo at a Uruguay Phyle meeting in Punta del Este several years ago. Doug Casey was the guest speaker. When I met Leo, I realized I’d seen him in a dream the night before. Kind of weird. As Doug was going on about the irrelevance of environmental awareness, Leo asked him, “So you’re saying ‘Fuck the rain forest’?” “Yeah, fuck the rain forest,” was his reply. Charming guy, that Doug.
But anyway. Fast forward a few years, and a couple guys who build small isopanel houses come by to give an estimate on replacing our casita roof. Leo is one of them. He apparently doesn’t remember me. No big deal. He wants to get a closer look at the roof, from the wall that separates us from our neighbors. I offer to get a ladder I have close by, but in a split second Leo has pulled himself up, and is standing on the top of the wall.
The wall is over 7′ (2.1 m) high.
Impressive feat, but hey, the guy was probably 30 years younger than me.
I had no idea exactly how impressive that was. Now I do, and I know what that move is called, and I get curious about Leo. Does he still do Parkour regularly?
If I ever had his email, that’s long gone, but fortunately he has an uncommon name, and it’s easy to find him online. Fascinating history: born in Holland, school in England, Lamborghini and Ferrari mechanic in Florida, bought a boat and sailed the Caribbean before moving to Uruguay and having a couple of children, the second of whom died very early on of heart complications.
But what happened next, I just learned today.
I’m still shocked. [link expired: he suffered a debilitating stroke in his 30s]

Well, that’s what Syd called it. Season? Maybe a couple weeks? Couple days? But lots of bunches of yellow flowers in the sandy scrubland where we walk with dogs almost daily. A few weeks ago it was purple flowers on ground-hugging succulents, but they’re past now. And I didn’t take a picture.
For some reason, I expect it would benefit me — or at least be interesting — to pay more attention.

With no call to action, this sign had me a little puzzled. The nearby parking attendant explained that it’s to remind people that there’s a school nearby, with children learning the classic Uruguayan practice they will carry into adulthood, namely wandering around in traffic, oblivious to it. Well, OK, he didn’t say exactly that.
Regardless, assuming that an Uruguayan driver will make the connection between the word niños and the thought that perhaps he should slow down strikes me as an entirely unreasonable proposition.

It’s German Week in Tienda Inglesa!

Germany must have changed since I lived there. I don’t remember hot dogs, much less American Hot Dog Sauce, which appears to be mustard, for which the Germans do have a word, senf. Pretty sure I never encountered BBQ Sauce either.
But that was a long time ago.
Benji has managed to lose two (or is it three?) collars in his crazed running around on walks. Once was on the beach. I retraced our entire route and couldn’t find it! Most recently, it was secured with a safety pin. Which worked really well — until it didn’t.
So, new collar, safety pins.

Benji was so excited to have a new collar he immediately wanted to model it for you.

Seriously, this is what he did as soon as I put it on — not moving, just lying there.
Turns out the safety pin wasn’t such a great idea. It came loose almost immediately. So I sewed a few stitches into it. Ya veremos — we’ll see.
After days of clear blue skies, their mood has definitely changed:

