Fiberglass

I haven't worked fiberglass in 40 years, back when my Dad was partnering around with Chester Kubes, a local body and fender man.  We made pirogues in the back of Chester's shop, a duck boat that looked like a kayak, but with cajun overtones.  We made them out of fiberglass and Chester sold a bunch of them.  They were virtually indestructible and I occasionally see one locally that I know was made in Chester's shop.

When the squirrels ate a hole in my corn feeder, I decided to patch it with fiberglass and one thing led to another and I didn't get around to patching the hole until today.  When I was mixing the resin with the hardener to saturate the fiberglass cloth, the smell wafted up and I was back in Chester's shop.  It's funny how smells carry away the years, and it's been nearly 40 years since I first smelled fiberglass resin.

That's three layers of glass over the hole, and while I know that it's rough, working fiberglass always looks rough until the layers set up, the resin hardens, and you can use a grinder on it.  It'll wait till tomorrow and I'll clean it up.  I think the old men would approve of my patch job, even if it's got a couple of bubbles in the resin.  It'll be okay.

But, just for a while, I was a teenager again, in a body shop on Lee Street.