Saturday, after marathon training (another two-hour hike along Liberty Bay), I went to the big box store to get plywood. My schedule called for "arranging the work table" this weekend, and it was supposed to rain on Sunday. So off to HD I went.
It turns out there are many kinds of plywood, and all sorts of secret codes about the plywood's origin, quality, and political beliefs. True to form, I went for the the plywood with the low price and the smooth finish. Sure, it looked warped (I later learned it isn't warped. It's bowed. Whatever). All the grades looked warped (or bowed). I figured it would just settle out.
Got it home .... it rained a bit on the way (what??????) .... and onto the garage floor, where it looked like one of those Bridge poses I learned in physical therapy when my back was yelling at me. The two 3/4"-thick, 8-foot-long slabs perched on their fingers and toes, while keeping the rest of their bodies arched gracefully above the garage floor.
This morning they were still arched. Hmmmmm.
I put each of the 4x8 slabs on a pair of sawhorses, prepared to watch them sag in the middle. They didn't. They are very adept with their arching.
I put heavy stuff in the middle of each. Then the plywood sheets looked a bit like the highway my folks used to take between Barstow and the stables where my brother and I learned, at federal government expense, to sit atop otherwise happy horses. The highway went up, it went down, it went up, it went down, crossing the rippled desert. Each little valley had a sign warning about the dangers of flash floods. If my parents drove at speed, our stomachs would be unsettled by the time we arrived at the stable.
So either I've got to make tiny flash flood warning signs to post along the side of each plywood sheet, or I have to get a better idea. Or better plywood.
I applied my google-skills, and learned about any number of home remedies, the most sensible of which involved fire, ashes, and another trip to a better lumber source. Huh. But there were some theories about wetting the concave side and applying sunshine, heat, or other drying agent to the convex side. This had actually worked for some people, or they were lying. Warm water, one suggested.
I got warm water, slathered it on the underside of one of the panels (and all over the garage floor), and made sure my weights -- assorted cans of paint, heavy tools, and a half-box of pre-emergent weed killer -- were reasonably centered on the convex side, which actually look kinda concave right now with all the weight on it.
If we hear a loud CRACK in the wee hours, then this was apparently too much weight. We'll find out. Meanwhile, there's every chance I'll be completely exhausted before the boatbuilding ever starts. Don't even get me started about the lights.
Comments