Judging by how I felt this morning, I am relatively certain someone snuck in while I was oiling the boat last night and switched the whisky and turpentine bottles. Ugh. Took the morning off to recuperate, then wandered down to finish fastening in deck ribs and grinding the sheer to match the tapering slope of the decks. We accidentally got one stick of red oak mixed in with all our white oak. Can you spot it?


Gary Perry wandered by yesterday—he came over a year ago and welded my boat-hoist rack together. That was fun to watch:


This time I enlisted him to help wreak my deck latches. (Isn’t wreak the present tense of wrought, as in wrought iron?)(Well, it should be.)


He came by this morning with a sample and it looks pretty much like the original. I found the proper iron wing-nuts on the internet.


Then I stared at Edith for a while in the afternoon sun.




Maybe I should deck her in plexiglass.