All the damp from last year's floods and the steady sifting down of dust, like the layers and layers falling slowly to the ocean floor have wrought havoc.
Normally I love a rusty, crusty surface but, perhaps not so good on my tools.
Ok a date has been made.
Several hours later . . . much better!
Half a box of steel wool, most of the can of WD40 gone, and outa fine sand paper. Some anally retentive types even go on polishing so that the light *blings* off the surface. But I am not that enthusiastic.
The WD40 label assures me that I will no longer squeek, my parts will be loosened and so will my mechanisms. Bring it on!
I also have . . .
Rough nails and rusted cuticles, very little nail polish, ingrained dirt, sore hands and almost no finger prints.
What, you thought I should have worn gloves?
What kinda namby-pamby sissy wears gloves?
My hands have earned all of the above, rather like my wrinkles, trophies to be worn with pride.