Last night all my classmates met at the worksite at about 7pm, and started a concerned plastering effort. Sometimes it's done in a blitz like that to get a lot done in one go. Yesterday, Sebastian's plaster team made 16 batches of scratch coat, which, you might remember (if I don't underestimate the geekiness of my readers), is 10% cow manure.
The cow manure is a binder, and keeps the plasters from dusting when touched.
I spent the night forming plaster into palm-sized balls and tossing them to plasterers on the south-west wall. They would call out "Poo me!" or "Yes!" or "Ball!" and I'd toss it in a lazy arc towards them so they could slap it on the wall.
Sometimes I put too much spin on the ball, and little bits of plaster would flick off, and people would get it in their mouths and eyes and yell at me something about e. coli or pinkeye or some other bullshit. Ingrates.
A couple of my colleagues and I even worked out an ingenious way of passing plaster balls without them turning away from the wall. Here's what I'd do: They'd yell for a plaster ball and put both their hands palm-up at waist-height, behind their backs, and I'd gently throw the ball so it would hit them between the shoulder blades. That way, they had a warning that the ball had arrived, and they could catch it at the small of their backs as gravity worked it magic. It was very satisfying.
Now I have no groceries, so I'm going to go next door to the greasy spoon for breakfast. Yumma.