
Something lost in translation?

An inquisitive old fart with a camera


Just like that, one day a broken TV appears in the middle of the path.

In the middle of nowhere.

Because of course. Where else would one dispose of an old, broken TV set?
Busy little ants harvesting acacia flowers, with a brief interruption from Jordan.

I am a little car, but I identify as a big car, and park accordingly.

“Want to try a new game? You must acquire wealth and fight against the forces of evil as you advance in a strange and mysterious world.”
“That will be great, Dad!”
Interesting dog walk – lovely spring weather. Lots of people fishing on the beach, then run into Pedro cleaning up his yard, Uruguayan who tells me in detail of their recent trip to Oregon: Diamond Lake, Crater Lake, Cape Disappointment, Washington, Cannon Beach, then north into Washington and Yakima, Leavenworth. (Made me miss it a little; we lived almost ten years in Oregon.)
Then the local park, absolutely bustling.
The as I round the corner of our block, one of my son’s friends and girlfriend and more visiting and catching up. He and the guys from Australia making tentative plans to visit our son in the USA in 2023.
So is spring finally here? ¡Ya veremos!

From one day to the next, a UPS unit died. I charged it up, checked battery output – only 8 volts where there should be 12. Meanwhile, no electricity passing through, meaning it doesn’t even have any use as a surge protector. So, tear it apart. Nothing too challenging,

the exception being the outlets, which appear to have been snapped in place and soldered. No big deal; happy to leave it at that. Nowhere near as much fun as tearing apart other things, like a laser printer.

Just as I was heading upstairs to wash up, a faint clapping (the way of summoning attention here) and saw a long-haired 10-11 year old boy with his bicycle in our driveway. This is unusual.
He was selling raffle tickets for Colegio Pinares (a few blocks from here) and he had a nice jacket with the emblem of the school, so I gave him 50 pesos (~USD 1.25) for one. He awkwardly wrote the ticket number with his pencil – his fifth customer, I noted – then squatted to try to write on the concrete in the driveway, finally retreating to the bicycle seat as backing where he managed to complete his data collection – my first name and telephone number.
Only back inside did I look at what I had bought a raffle ticket for: a basket of candies.
For once I am grateful that I never win these things.

The other day I saw a hornero nest, broken, on the railing of a walkway through the dunes to the beach. You can see pieces on the ground. Probably broken by a human being of the juvenile variety, it begs a question: how could the hornero birds who built it think this was a good location?

Today I saw this: two hornero nests, side by side. Years ago I was told that horneros used to build their nests with the opening facing east for the morning sun, but with the increase in electromagnetic pollution, they had lost that sense of direction. I don’t know if it’s true, but the opening of the upper nest is pointing north.

Discovery of the day (after almost 13 years!): when you refill your
CIEMSA peaje “chip” at Abitab, it specifies the expiration date (F.VTO. =
Fecha de vencimiento). No more embarrassing backing out of a toll booth
whose gate won’t open because time has run out. Not that I would know anything about that, of
course.