Stained

Out, damned spot. And so on. I know it seems like all I ever talk about is my bloody decking saga these days - the job I'll be doing in Hell for all eternity, no doubt, but here it is again. Take heart though, it should be over soon.

So, today I arrive bright an early, as it's a sunny day for a change in these days of incoming winter. I sweep the deck and open up my stain tin, only to notice (make that remember) that it's almost empty. Never mind, I think, I'll go and buy another afterwards...

So, I stain away, doing about six foot square and then run out. I extract $100 from my mother-in-law, which is, I must confess, a large sum, but I did give change. And away we're off to RONA, a kind of Canadian B&Q, which is a kind of English, ah well, you get this idea - a DIY store.

I have cunningly written down everything written on the tin, in French and English, to assist in getting another, as I can smell trouble. I search the aisles for about 15 mins without luck, I'm searching for 'Behr' products, and they don't have any.

'Non.' Says the sturdy looking assistant. 'Behr? Reno Depot'. And turns and swishes away.

A fifteen minute drive to Reno Depot, where I suspect I'm well known due to the many, many hours I've spent wandering around the place looking for things and refusing to ask for help. I mean, the place is enormous, it has taken me months to map it out even.

But I know where the stain is, as I've seen in when buying the stripper (kind of ironic eh?). I can't find the product. I'm looking for Number #81.

I approach an elderly assistant, so elderly that he has the right to be insolent to me and I merely smile back.

'Bonjour monsieur, vous avez... cette... ummm... vous parlez anglais?'

He eyed me and literally spat, 'un peut!' Then, 'et vous - vous parlez français?'

'A little!' I tried to spit too, but it doesn't work so well in English.

So, he looks at the paper I offer him like I've wiped my arse with it already and laughs, 'Number 81! Ho ho ho!'

I don't share the joke. 'So you don't have it then?'

'Oh no monsieur, they stopped making that years ago.' At this he actually goes to turn and walk away.

'Is there anything else similar?' I ask, and he almost wobbles his head, a-la Indian style, and walks me to my choices, stopping on the way to balance a heavy can of paint on a shelf, precariously, above an old lady's head.

He sells me a tin called 'Red', when what I wanted was Redwood / Red Cedar. I suspect the match won't be perfect, but what choice do I have?

Back at the ranch, I apply the stain, it looks a little different but not too bad. The mother-in-law comes out to look. She agrees that it looks the same. I'm pleased.

But it doesn't look the same when it dries... oh no. It's dark brown, and the old stain is bright red. Oh bollocks, I muttered, walking up and down to look at it in different lights.

There's also another problem - I neglected to read the tin this time, foolishly assuming that it would be the same in application, but no, oh no.

Apply one coat. The old stain was two.

Paint each plank length to length to avoid 'lap' lines. The old stain didn't care.

Sure enough, there are 'lap' (I assume that's short for overlap, saving the use of four letters) line all over the place.

I decide to fix it in the spring.