Farewell, My Lovely

Over the last six weeks the house has often felt very full. Probably because it has been. It is lovely to see the children and grandchildren, but with Mum here as well it can all get a bit overwhelming for me. Add on to that catching the NIMBUS variant of COVID, my ongoing asthma and hayfever and then breaking a couple of ribs and it is perhaps understandable I am at a standstill.

I've got half a dozen simple projects to finish off. All quite simple, and looking quite good at the moment. Once they are out of the way I can move on to the next phase of my plans and , hopefully, finish off Dark Hall.

In three weeks, all I've managed to do is replace a tree on a Kato Circus module.

I need to replace the foliage at some point, since it started off as 4mm scale shrub.

I can't remember if I mentioned that my 7 1/4" gauge track has found a new lease of life as a portable line for use by the Foxfield Miniature Railway, but Teddy has now gone there as well, whilst awaiting collection to go to his new home in The Netherlands.

He would have been appearing at their miniature gala day, but the evening before his speed controller died halfway round the track. Fortunately they are no stranger to Scamps so he should be back up and running soon. Without train brakes he won't be of much use, but it is better than rusting away in our garage. 

The Itch

Many years ago, as a young manager, I was put in charge of an office full of misfits. Think Slow Horses, but without the espionage. One of them was Ron, an ex-Chief Petty Officer and the living embodiment of an old-school CPO, who was seeing out the end of his working life.

I kept in touch after he retired, something he struggled to cope with.

It was Ron who introduced me to the area around Kings Cross, or at least a different aspect of it from the one I knew in my CIB days, investigating  miscreant police officers.

Ron introduced me to the little cafes in the area, especially the Italian ones. There I learned to love liver, bacon and onions and discovered the secret of how to cook it.

He also took me into Victor's.

For those too young to remember, Victor's was THE place for US modelling in the UK.

In that little shop I bought the Walther's catalogue that still sits on my shelf, my first MDC kits, and books on lines like the Kennebec Central and various short lines. It was where I first opened the pages of Narrow Gauge and Shortline Gazette.

At the time, I was short on cash and living in a house share in Hendon. All I managed to build was one small diorama.I had vague ideas of a model based on the fictional Lake Woebegon

Time rolls on. Ron died after a very short retirement, Victor's closed, and the last time I was in what was once the Italian, the bill ran well into three figures.

Life got interesting over the next decade, but all my modelling was in OO9, and then came the really busy years. I might not have got much modelling done, but I did get to travel for work.

So, from time to time, I've come face to face with American railways, and those of Canada and Cuba.

The excursion vessel in Chicago creeps into this because I've been planning to model something like that for years, but a lot of American lake steamboats have very subtle lines. Cap Streeter is much simpler.

Where am I going with this? I'm not sure!

On the exhibition circuit, I've been coming across some quite nice North American N gauge layouts. I'm also in some modelling and prototype groups on FB which have been providing occasional inspiration. I've always been tempted by a micro using a car float as a sector plate.

A few items of stock are slowly finding their way onto a shelf. I find it hard to plan without something concrete in front of me. It might come to nothing. who knows?

Amerton

 Amerton has been on my list of places to visit for a very long time, back when we lived in Warwickshire and made regular visits to my mother in Market Drayton. But somehow I could never persuade Issy to drop me off there whilst she carried on with the family visit. Funny that.

Since moving here, we have visited the site a few times, but always just to visit the adjacent soft play area and children's farm with the grandchildren.

This week, with half-term coming to an end, everything came together, albeit on a day wiht the diesel timetable in operation.

The trip, you get two rides for your money, is a large distorted loop with one intermediate station. The scenery is pleasant farmland, enhanced by an eye-spy sheet that was enjoyed by the eldest grandchild and my mother.

The station has lots of character, and all the volunteers were very friendly. The little museum, with its automated model of the line, a brio trainset to play with and free colouring sheets also went down well with visiting families.

The Real World

 Just occasionally, the real world intrudes into our model world.

This year seems to have been marked by the deaths of a few people in the modelling community who seem far too young, and others reporting on projects halted because of health issues.

I know some people like to maintain the fantasy that the sun always shines on our perfect miniature worlds, yet, oddly, some of the best modellers I know have been those who face up to the realities of life.

What got me thinking about this today is something that might seem trivial to you.


Our feral cat went missing over the BH weekend.

I have kept many animals over the years, and whilst holding one whilst watching it put to sleep is painful, it doesn't compare to the fear that one of them has died alone and in pain without having you there. We had reconciled ourselves to You* having been taken by a fox or killed by a car.

OK this story, like the time our other cat went missing for nine months, has a happy ending.

While walking the dogs past a house with a high, dense holly hedge, I heard a faint meowing. If you asked me to recognise a musical note, I would be lost, but I knew at once it was You.

Fortunately, the neighbour turned up at about the same time. A rescue mission was launched up to the eaves of his garage, and my daughter eventually prised You out of her predicament.

She is home now, still as feral as ever.

The cat that is, not the daughter.

But while the cat was missing, I lost all my modelling mojo.

The real world does intrude into our model world.

Later today I have a meeting to finalise an international standard about controlling Artificial Intelligence that "pretends" to be human. My big concerns in this area are around discrimination, honesty, and, most seriously, the possibility of an AI model encouraging harmful behaviour.

"Yes, you are right, your life doesn't sound worth living" is not an impossible response from some AI models.

I think many in our sometimes solitary world could fall victim to that sort of interaction.

On Friday I successfully pitched a conference session on why, in the workplace, we need to live an "examined life" because, to quote Socrates:

ὁ δὲ ἀνεξέταστος βίος οὐ βιωτὸς ἀνθρώπῳ 

I think that applies to us all as modellers. Not only in terms of our modelling, but how our modelling relates back to the real world, where we find value, and how we relate to other people, as wella s ourselves.

I suspect I will return to this topic. Eventually.

Bagging Gladstone

 I'm sure some of you are fans of The Great Pottery Throwdown. It is filmed not far from here at the Gladstone Pottery Museum.

I last visited here some 30 years ago, but it has been on our list to revisit for over a year, this time around.

It is simply brilliant.

I'll let the photos speak for themselves. The one thing they don't convey is how dreadful it would have been. There is a reason why they had an on-site Doctor. When unpacking the kilns that never went cold, the workers had to wear wet rags to avoid their skin peeling off. Think about that.

Or as the world of fauxstalgic SocMed groups would have it, "Better, simpler times"