Trash collection, mostly.

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.

It’s back to school time!

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.

El pico

Off and on over the last few months, I’ve been doing maintenance at our little country place. It becomes a little inconvenient, such as today when I needed the pressure washer and realized I never brought it back after cleaning out there. Off we go!

But at least I knew where it was. The pick was different. It’s my weapon of choice for uprooting thistles, and it had disappeared. Not in the house, not in the galpón (shed/barn). I sometimes leave it in the middle of the yard when cutting grass, but I hadn’t seen it anywhere. Would someone have stolen it? Hard to imagine.

So, after washing frog turds off the kitchen sink, I grabbed the power washer, turned to leave, and voilá.

Almost like I’m playing tricks on myself.