Hammer Time

I seem to have a song for just about everything; most of the time I keep things to myself and just sing in my own head. But sometimes, especially when I’m a bit tired or distracted or feeling like lifting my own spirits, I will sing. And by “sing” I don’t mean a melodious tune. Nope, I belt out like a sideshow carnie barking for the moose lady. It doesn’t matter whether I know the words, I sing. Needless to say Peter isn’t a huge fan of when these moments hit me.

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Fair thee well

I forgot something when I recounted the steps needed to get from nasty rust to “nice boat!”: smoothing the fairing compound.

We (and by we I mean Peter) heaped and scraped and pushed gloopy fairing compound into the primed rust divots. Wet fairing compound is impossible to get perfectly smooth; it either is built up too low or too high.  Too high means it has to be sanded off; too low means more needs to be heaped on top, left to cure, then sanded off.

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