Catching up

It’s been over a week since I last posted, about dissecting a dead laser printer and discovering that it yielded several pounds of recyclable plastic. Today I was cleaning out files and found a photo taken a month ago.

Some low-functioning individual decided a more appropriate way to dispose of a broken printer would be to take it 180 meters from the nearest dwellings, and dump it in a field.

Meanwhile, doing a bit of spring cleaning – it’s amazing how much grows around the edges of those concrete plumbing junction box lids – I found that ants had been using this unused one as a dumping ground for sand as they made their nest under the patio. All the sand in the wheelbarrow came from that box, which means it probably came from below the wheelbarrow. Great!

After removing all the sand I could, I flushed the rest with the 3/4″ hose attached to our well. (Unfortunately not potable water.) “Someone” who saw the hose “come to life” decided it needed to be taught who’s in charge here. He managed to wrap it around this little orange tree three times, tightly.

Meanwhile “there’s something happening here” in the little park near the intendencia in Atlántida. And, as is to be expected, what it is ain’t exactly clear. Huge eucalyptus and pine trees cut down, all the tile torn up, and – nothing. The eucalyptus stump will send up new shoots; the pine in the foreground won’t.

The real question: will whatever they’re doing be complete in three months, when the summer season starts?

Stay tuned….

Best to do nothing

I looked at our front door the other day.

It looks quite horrible. Thought I should:

  • take it off hinges
  • good going-over with recently repaired belt sander
  • refinish

dog-scratched door

But then I thought, ya know, burglars are pretty good at scoping out houses. Even for a deaf potential burglar, this gives a good clue about what to expect inside. Not favorable for his undertaking.

Problem solved: do nothing. Hella less work for me, and that warm fuzzy feeling of having done an unsolicited act of kindness for a stranger I’ll never meet.

 

 

 

Grasera

Grease trap. Stinky, nasty piece of work that has to be cleaned out every couple months. Here’s ours, dug up and replaced.

grasera

It looks perfectly functional, and it is. But since the plans to our house were never brought up to date at the intendencia, it had to be replaced by a bigger “approved” one — 20 liters.

Instead of 18.

 

 

 

What a difference a brush makes

Finally doing some much-needed maintenance on wooden ceilings.

ceiling

Phase 1 is the lambriz, thin tongue-and-groove. Next are the beams, in a darker color, for which I splurged and bought an angled sash brush. Which, believe it or not, is a big deal. The only place I could find one was in Tienda Inglesa. Yes, the supermarket.

And, of my goodness, does it make a difference!

brushes

The bottom brush is typical of what you find in hardware stores here: with short, coarse bristles that tend to spread.

Perhaps when next up north I’ll wander through Home Depot and salivate.

Hot water restored to the barbacoa we don’t use!

I sometimes wonder why I don’t do more homeowner projects, and today witnessed with awe the efficiency with which a highly-recommended plumber (not this one) repaired one of the results of my hanging some plastic gutter (a gift) and downspout to restrict growth of wet stuff on a wall near the barbacoa. (Note how well it worked: not.)

plumber-1

In drilling holes for the “Tacos Fischer,” the local name for plastic wall anchors, I managed to discover the hot water pipe for the barbacoa (which was a parillera before we enclosed it). To clarify: 1) a parillera (open) or barbacoa (closed) is where you gather with family on Sundays to eat meat meat meat, slowly slowly cooked over coals. Unless you don’t have family here, in which case you make it into a sort-of workshop; 2) discovering a hot water pipe does not constitute a happy result of trying to anchor screws in walls.

The plumber worked with surprising efficiency. Instead of tink-tink-tink with a hammer and chisel, he brought a mini-jackhammer that pulverized the wall in seconds to expose …

plumbing-wall-repair

… not just the plastic water pipes (you can see the hole), but — see that orange a few centimeters above? That’s the electrical feed to the barbacoa. 220 volts. Ouch.

OK, I maybe be clumsy. But I’m lucky.

The whole repair — plumber and his son, and equal amount of time spent inside cleaning and rebuilding a valve that fed this line — cost UYP 600, or a bit over USD 25.

And, so typical here, they’re gentle and pleasant people, concluding the transaction with a handshake.

The beginning of a place to park

hill01

Though draining water runs down the middle of our street, it has deep ditches on either side, and limited width. Not a good place to park. But if people pull into our driveway in a car, they block us in, and if more than one car, one blocks the other.

hill03

So the last couple days have been busy, and the hill is no more. Now to try to get something to grow out there besides the one bush we transplanted from the back yard.

Termites

Today it was gas-bombing the casita (little house) for termites in the roof. Yesterday it was cleaning the grasera (grease trap) which was overflowing, which smells (probably) like spilled and broken human guts. My son gagged. I had to complete the task on my own.