Achieving some sort of serenity

The answer to the groundhog day of unending varnishing is blowing in the wind

- Dave Selby

The definition of insanity, according to Einstein, is repeating the same action over and over again and expecting different results, which, as it so happens, also perfectly describes the utter futility of varnishing.

Every year the varnish work on Snipe, my pert, wooden 1953 Blackwater Sloop, needs a touch-up; every second year, it needs a refresh, then refurbishment in the third, followed by a complete strip of what's left in the fourth. By then it's looking like a breakout of teenage eczema erupting with acne and it's time to start the process all over again, scraping everything back, then slapping on five coats of expensive stuff, sanding most of it off between coats, then finally standing back-preferably at least 30 yards on a moonless night - to admire the runs and the bugs preserved under the varnish, entombed for all of eternity. In other words, varnishing is madness.