Hmmmm…didn’t even think about that. The kitchen is directly above the little garage, and there are lots if holes in the garages “ceiling” that look right into the subfloor. Maybe I’ll just glass out in the backyard…uuggh.
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The kitchen is directly above the little garage, and there are lots if holes in the garages “ceiling” that look right into the subfloor. Maybe I’ll just glass out in the backyard…uuggh.
[/quote]There is little doubt in my mind that vapors of polyester resin and the other volatile solvents weigh more than air. That is, they will not rise – basic physics.
I probably shouldn’t bring this up, but anyone remember that time we went down to San Miguel for the weekend and ate Mexican at that little place on the highway next to the ding repair guy? It was called, ironically Casatone. I was immediately suspicious and thought it was a little weird have a cocina next to a ding repair place, but whatever. They were selling the heck out of those tacos . But it was the sauce that was the draw. We had surfed all day, eaten nothing but powdered donuts and we were dead tired and hungry enough to eat whatever was served at any price. Washed down by a beer or two. Turns out those tacos distinctive taste was due to a drizzle of acetone in the green sauce. Thus the name, Casatone.
What reminded me of this little episode was that we got drunk as $h*t that night and once more thoughts turned to lighting farts. (Hey, lighten up. We were 16 at most. We got mature…..later). What a crazy night. I woke up in the car the next day. Windows up. Stench in the air. Vaguely remember a cigarette lighter some bare butts and torched baggies. Juan, the owner said we needed to leave pronto before his wife woke up or we would be arrested. But he was laughing so hard, I wasn't sure he was serious.
So, I don’t mess with acetone. Can you blame me? Crap, I mean that stuff could be toxic or something.
As for working with resin under the kitchen, ever hear the expression “happy wife, happy life”? Probably the quickest way to get our little hobbie here shut down is the smell of styrene all through the lady of the house’s kitchen.
I’m really going to echo the “stay with epoxy” if you are that close to home.