PAINT (or I am NOT Obsessive)

It did not look good for prime time this morning.  I set to cleaning the last part of the treadle base and realized that I had hours of work a head of me.  I  had so wanted to get paint on something! Finally I decided that I would just paint what I had ready

I don't know.  I love the old patina of the bare metal.  But rust was returning.  So I primed it.  Steven asked if I was going to use flat or satin black paint.   
"I don't know."
 "Don't use gloss," he said
"Why?"
"Because old things aren't shiny.  New cars are shiny.  Toasters are shiny.  Old sewing machines are not shiny."

OK satin it is.  (I had already bought a can of satin black spray paint.  I also have a can of gloss.)

I did manage to get the last piece pretty well stripped before we ran our errands.  It was late when we got home, almost five.  I was determined to finish today.  I scrubbed the last piece and put some Naval Jelly on the wheels to treat the rust, rinsed everything off, wiped it all down and called it good.

Clean enough

 

Really Clean

I probably will never be able to tell which is which once the paint is on. 

The light was not the greatest and I was in a hurry.  Supper was ready (Bless Steven's heart.  He cooks most of the time.. Well, he does like to eat, and I hate to cook, so I believe it is a survival skill he learned since he married me.  His previous partners were both very good cooks.)  I cleaned everything up (we are expecting heavy rain tomorrow) and when I was putting the last of the pieces in the shop I found a couple of holidays on the cross piece

An obsessive would have gotten out the paint can, shook it for the requisite three minutes and sprayed this. Not me.  I went in to dinner.