Protective strategies
This afternoon, I painted a tent. Now, don’t get all fretful that I’ve turned artist; I know my limitations. My tents tend to look something like this…
My efforts did involve a brush, and foul smelling liquid, but no canvas was involved. Tents of my generation involve nylon tissue. And, given the state of the ozone layer (or so I’ve read), nylon tends to degrade in the presence of ultraviolet rays. Degrade, collapse, tear on demand. Camping in sunny PEI, year after year, I know exactly what the end result of weeks of exposure will be. When my friends at the camping good store (yes, money attracts friends) recommended a treatment, I was ready to take their advice.
For those who calculate such things, one can containing almost a litre of mysterious liquid will cover (almost) one of my tents. No matter that I have three or four; scaling upward is possible. One can costs about $16, so I’ll take the conservative approach and a) not do the brand new tent b) not do the tents that are staying in storage for this summer. This afternoon proved the adage that rain will hold off if you really, really hope. The tent was pitched, painted and left to dry out under hazy skies, while I retreated to the comfort of a fan driven living room.
There were other cool things to buy at the camping goods emporium, but I used common sense and refused to pay $65 for a knife sharpening kit. Precious stones belong in a different context. I did settle for a tiny stone with a tiny bottle of oil; if the edge doesn’t improve, I can burn the stuff during the next power outage.
