As hidden as the nose on my face

Yesterday was an inventory of what ribs are missing, still need to be repaired, what hardware hadn't been put on (because it was waiting for missing ribs), and where to start. About those missing ribs - when I moved my wings home from the hangar to save on rent while racking up medical bills and relearning how to walk, I had not finished all the rivets and repairs. In fact, the more I worked with ribs and learned, the more rivets and repairs I wanted to do again to better standards. Since the wings are mirror-images, I swapped ribs from the left to the right to build one complete wing, and leave on wing that needed a lot of work. Guess which one we're starting with?

When I put a protective layer of zinc chromate on the ribs, I decided I'd get every rib I was going to use - but I'd leave the sections still needing repair shiny silver, so I could instantly identify them and not put them in place until they were repaired to higher standards. This is great... except I couldn't find them. And I couldn't find the parts manual, the service manual, or other paperwork. So, I headed to J's place to see if they were stored there. Nope, though I did get a few things of mine of of her way. Back to the shop to admit defeat - and the paperwork was right by my transponder, sitting in a pile I've walked past for months. Still couldn't find the ribs.

Took some beyond-repair ribs and a complete set of aileron cove to Atlee Dodge to make sure the guys there have the shape that the cove is supposed to fit. Came back, looked for the half-fixed ribs. High, low, attic to under benches. Went to the other end of the city to see if I'd left 'em in a buddy's shed when I thought I got everything out. His shed key wasn't stashed in the usual place, so I greeted his cats, left a message on his fiance's cell phone in case he was out of town, and resisted the urge to mow his lawn.

Back to the shop, where I was trying to find a few other things when I paused, and looked at the pile of things associated with my wings. And I looked at a six-foot-tall cardboard box as though I was seeing it for the first time, tipped it gently toward me in case it had something really heavy inside - and there were my missing ribs, right where they should be.

Making frustrated noises, I then went to help clean off a work table and have a calming cup of tea until I could laugh at myself.

Today should be better!