Our Canadian neighbors, who put on a wonderful Christmas day get-together, also use the occasion to collect dog food for an impoverished woman in Montevideo who has 44 dogs. Sound like a lot? Last year it was 77.
Delivering the donated food — 260 kilos of it — they were appalled by what they saw. So they organized. Friday morning we arrived, I and another guy with our weed-eaters with brush blades, others with clippers, all with work gloves and most with Wellies. In a few hours, we had changed the overgrown property dramatically.
Tomorrow, we go to fill a dumpster (volquete; I did boring posts about them here and here) with various trashed appliances, and to continue clearing a path for one of four abandoned vehicles to be dragged away. I will use a “found” concrete column to straighten the leaning fence in front.
Next: repair the roof that blew off because the beams had been eaten by termites, make the house a little livable, install a fence to segregate dogs. At present, when we arrive, she has to put them inside. And what does inside look like?
The bearings on my 6-year old wheelbarrow broke. You can’t replace them. You can’t buy a replacement wheel with the same size axle.
A South African guy named Geoff told me about buying a replacement wheel, then taking it to this guy who fabricated an axle to make it work on his wheelbarrow. So I went to buy the wheel, then after some discussion with the muchacho at the ferreteria (hardware store), decided it might be prudent to discuss it with Mr. Fixit, Luis, before purchasing it.
Luis said he could make a solution out of plastic that would solve the problem for a long time. Come back at the end of the day. So I did, to find custom-fabricated plastic bearings (they would be a T in cross-section, with perfectly fitting rubber grommets.
“Put a little grease on it when you put it back together,” he said, “and you’ll have no problem.”
I was with an escribano (basically, a lawyer for two parties in agreement) getting paperwork done, and was so stunned with his handwriting that I took a picture when he was out of the room:
The first line: my address Second: townThird: marital status Fourth: wife’s name – that might be a question mark because I’m not sure what my wife’s proper name is in Uruguay, and I hesitated. She got one from migración, a different one from the Corte Electoral when we became citizens.
Amazingly, it was all correct when he produced the finished document.