Finish protocol · bottom first · 220 between coats
The last coat
You built the thing. It's Wednesday, it has to be in use Saturday, and the can
says "recoat in 4 to 6 hours" like you've got nothing else going on.
So the last coat goes on tacky, and it comes out with swirl marks, drips at
the edges, and a soft spot that prints the first thing you set on it.
Finishing is where a good build gets ruined.
Pick the finish and the day you need it, and you get the clock: a time
for every coat, the flip, 220 between them, and the hour it holds a laundry basket. A
countertop in oil poly, three coats a side, needed Saturday at five: coat one goes on
Wednesday at four.
Nothing you type here leaves your device. No account, no
server, no analytics. Your dates live in this browser tab and are erased when
you close it. "Start over" wipes them now.
Why this one exists
My shellac top took six coats, 220 between every single one, underside first.
Sanding between coats is the whole trick: it knocks down the dust that landed while the
last coat dried. This weekend, a laundry-room
countertop: oil poly, every side, bottom first so the drips drip downward. I had company
coming, I'd chilled the whole tub on an AI's advice, and coat two came out with swirl
marks and drips at both edges. What are we learning
here? Chill the roller, not the can. And count the hours before you open it.
The six coats, in the shop:
Instagram,
Facebook.
The window is a floor
The can's recoat time is the least you wait, not a target. "Dry enough, a
little tacky" costs you the coat. Wait longer and nothing is lost: you're sanding
220 between coats either way.
Part 1 — The finish
Tap what's in the can. Typical label numbers fill in; your can wins.
Finish
Sides
A countertop or a tabletop gets every side, so both faces take on moisture alike.
Where it dries
Most cans say 50 to 90°F. Cold or sticky air stretches every window; the page adds
half again. Below the can's minimum, bring it inside: waiting won't cure it.
Part 2 — The day you need it
When it has to hold a basket, a plate, a laptop. Not when you'd
like to be done.
Filled with next Saturday at five so you can see it work.
Part 3 — Your schedule
The clock
this page doesn't know your can
The windows are typical label numbers. Your can, your shop's temperature and how thick you
lay it on all move them. Read the can and type its number in.
The boulder question
Most problems are who-you-know. Name one person whose finish you've
run your hand over and wondered how.
Now make the call — ask:
“what do you put on, and how long between coats?”
Washington or Dakota County, Minnesota. Off-market, or straight from the
owner — I'm the buyer, not a middleman passing it along. Woodbury, Cottage
Grove, Hastings, Stillwater, Eagan, Inver Grove Heights, Lakeville.
If that's you, or you know somebody quietly thinking about selling, I'll lay out
your options — all of them, including the ones I don't make a dime on.
Nothing to sign, no walkthrough unless you ask.
That was free and nothing here sits behind an email. If it was
useful, here's the whole exchange: send it to one or two people who'd use it
too. That's it. I'm trusting you with it, you pass it on.
Want the next one before anyone else? I'm building an interest
list — no selling, no sequence, your address goes nowhere.
Exactly what that means, in plain words.
The list itself isn't open yet — I'm still setting it up, and
I'd rather say that than put up a box that doesn't work. The ask above stands
either way, and it's the one that matters. If you want to tell me what to build
next, my DMs are open.