chasing cracks in century-old plaster with a triangular scraper and a putty knife holds all the magic of digging a half-inch splinter from beneath your fingernail.
once the loose material has been banished from the wall or ceiling, the stopping point always seeming elusive and ”stable” plaster remaining suspect, a Pepto-Bismol-pink-colored paint called ”Plaster Weld” is slathered over the scraped areas, plaster edges and cracks. this bonds the new plaster to the old and seals the old plaster so moisture will not seep under the old layers and pop sections from the wall or ceiling.
after fifteen minutes of plasterwelding, the acrid smell seems to disappear—has it coated one’s sinuses?, is it erasing one’s olfactory response?, are brain cells sinking in the quagmire of its gaseous grip?
the can reads: ”non-toxic”. the smell belies this claim, the dizziness argues for toxicity, the steady giddy laughter and shape-shifting walls would be evidence for potential internal damage.
ha hee hee brayeth the plasterwelder.