Summer morning before the heat wipe the wood down get rid of the sanding dust leaving the alder baby-bottom smooth. Natural bristle brush leaves no streaks drops no stray fibers into the oil. Slather it on, then a bit more where it's already sinking into the wood. Pungent varnish smell brings back childhood memories with my dad puts a wistful smile on my face. Set the timer for thirty minutes and wait. Watch the golden liquid seep in, Creep inside the pores, deep inside strengthening, protecting, glistening softly hoping for a deep natural glow. Hoping for not a fake-y plastic high-gloss glassy mirror-like finish, but just a gentle sheen bringing out the natural beauty of the wood. And then a bump in the road. Wipe it dry after thirty minutes, uh-oh, very tacky, impossible to wipe fibers from the cut-up t-shirt stick to the wood. Damn! Good thing I started on the underside of the bed frame, a piece of plywood. Will let it dry for a while more and then try and figure out what to do next. -- To be continued --
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AuthorLen Hodgeman Archives
September 2014
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