Thursday dawned warm and sunny and my bonus four day weekend (one day all weekends will be made this way)  looked like being a fruitful one. Still putting off the making of frames, (my current excuse being I need more workshop space to lay out the laminates) I carried on stripping varnish and sanding the sides of the coachroof. I’ve invested in velcro backed rolls of sandpaper and what a difference! Gone the frustration of trying to clamp reluctant 80 grit into poorly designed clips that ping open at the slightest provocation. Substitute instead, a stack of pre cut sheets ready to be popped on in seconds. Of course the extra time sanding has had a negative effect on my back muscles but every silver lining has a cloud.

The thought occurs, as I curse the orbital sander marking a clattering trail of little dents into the deck, that some sort of rubber edged sander would be a good invention. Yes yes I know, It’s a poor craftsman who blames his tools but it is really hard to get right up to the edge without bashing the adjacent wood…. must try harder.

The pulpit was getting in the way, so off it came. Does she look cleaner without it….?

Maybe a bit, but I wonder whether someone wrestling with the anchor or hanking on a foresail would be glad of its steely galvanised (and galvanising?) embrace, and more than happy to compromise Flamingo’s traditional lines for a bit of safety….. Well, we’re a long way off that point so I’ll not worry too much about it now. It’s many a mickle makes a muckle,  as like as not as makes no nevermind….

The whole site is getting a bit untidy so I spent some time clearing up, sorting out, and stacking the various bits of the interior and then covering them with a tarp.

Lots of strangely shaped pieces are carefully stashed. These two bits are a puzzle.

I’ve labelled them and obviously while doing so fondly imagined I would remember more about their function….. I’m thinking PA (Port Aft) PM (Port Middle) but of what? I can’t for the life of me think where they’re from.

The leaky workshop continues its frustration, Father’s canvas Ditty Bag has to be dried out and its contents find a new home in a Whiskey tin (thanks Sarah)

Meanwhile, Tilly discovered a Fairy shoemaker’s last, proof if it were needed that the little people are all around us…..

Turas math dhuibh.