Do not stare at the paint shaker, It is hypnotic

Maybe my problem with painting is that I stare at the paint shaker too much...

I am afraid to go to the shop this morning.

Yesterday evening I painted the last hood panel for the White 2-155. When I walk out and open the shop door I fully expect something to go wrong. I have precedence for this worry.

Last winter when I was painting this tractor I had damage from, wayward cats, birds building nests, a hole in the roof, mosquitoes swimming in the metal flake, a chicken feather that was on my hat and fell into the wet paint, hooking the airhose around the barrel holding up the hood, oil on a rag I thought was clean, runs, sags, orange peel, strange puddling of the flake after painting because I thought I needed to build the gloss in one little spot and ended up with too much paint. 

Then there was the time I had it perfect and screwed up the clear coat. This may yet happen as that is the next step. I think I will wait a week before attempting any sanding.

I left an imperfection on the lower back of the panel as an appeasement to the whims of fate. 

Hope it works!

It honestly looked pretty decent when I left for supper last night. I wonder where the roof leak appeared and where the rain puddle is setting. Or perhaps a chicken roosted on it. Or the cat struck again...

Perhaps I am just negative. I mean, I was never struck by lightning, or earthquake, but I suspect a Container Ship with sketchy registration papers could somehow hit my shed and put a scratch in my pant job.

As long as I don't see the hood I feel it will somehow remain unblemished.

I have done the dishes, fed the chickens. talked to my friend who wishes not to be mentioned in my blog, applied for a job I do not want (and so it will be offered to me), sat a spell, petted the cat (literally, not a euphemism for anything), my hip exercises, and I swept the laundry room. 

Eventually I am going to have to look...

Perhaps I should split some kindling first.