Dave Batt

With respect I disagree. They seem to be working through the Classic Airframes' catalogue, in which case roll on the Whirlwind, Hudson, Attacker, and others.

Good point to bring us (well, me, who started with hot metal) up to date!

Trouble is (or was, thirty years back) that it was the page designers who took the lead because they dealt with the exciting colourful images that would attract the browsers' attention, while the editors 'just' focussed on the boring drab grey areas that the designers were compelled to shoe horn between the dramatic stuff. Telling designers they'd have to reposition and resize a couple of images to get the captions in the right place to make sense would see near-tantrums, which is why Editors may now only see 'proofs' after the separations are done (i.e., it's too late to make changes).

Gross profit, you mean, as opposed to Net Profit?

I accepted the masochist's badge a year or so back after a layoff of ten years or so, and learned quickly once again the joy of a submissive role. (Someone remind me how one changes an avatar image.) It really is a painful experience to lose such a companion.

All I can say is "Cor!". Having read the original book decades ago always felt let down by the representation of the 'thopters in the film and TV renditions, but this film made it up for me. It might be overlong (is it meant to be a two or three parter?) but the time is 'wasted' on some very epic panoramas and there's plenty of time left for the drama of the sandworms and the horrors of the Harkonnens and Guild Navigators to be fully explored. Best fiver I've spent all year.

There's possibly a little old lady around somewhere who has a bowl of wax fruit with the impression of my teeth in a pear . . .

Er, that wasn't the image shown in the posting to which I referred.

This is some sort of p-take, isn't it? That's not a box-art, it's a very well known wartime photo.

Ditto. For a moment I thought mine was going to head-butt the screen, which raises the question of what the insurance claim would look like. I have no idea how she stopped in time, she certainly shot off doing 0 - 60 in 0.69 seconds from dozing on the chair.

Finally got that Flickr sorted out.

Life has finally reached a point where a cat could enter my world after a decade or more as various ducks have been lined up. This was the result of an approach to the National Animal Welfare Trust during the Lockdown 1 - 2 hiatus. I had expected to have to jump through hoops because of the Covid requirements, with specific appointments to eliminate casual browsing, etc as things were a bit different. I was told to register via their website, but only if I could express interest in a specific cat. There were very few cats because of the plague (contrary to national headlines) but they insisted the process was there to be followed. I put the page into the shortcuts and kept an eye for a couple of weeks and Rosie continued as the only moggie on their books. She was described as a stray that had appeared in the carpark of the local Pets at Home and would prefer life as an only pet in a house with no children. (Hear that tinkling noise? It's a warning bell. Should have paid attention myself.) I contacted them as {in broad terms) she could be a good fit. The only video they could offer showed her up in a Marlene Dietrich moment ("I want to be alone . . ") and ignoring the feather on a stick they wanted her to play with and marching into her travel box den instead of playing to the camera. Couldn't blame her, I feel like that often enough myself, but that bell was getting louder. The final warning sign was when, after my name was apparently cemented alongside Rosie, only then did a load of amiable looking tabby toms and BOGOF packs of cute kittens start to appear. The whole process of "four to six weeks with my visiting at least once a week" had gone completely out the window. Came the day they wanted to hand her over after her vet's checks. "Could they have credit/debit card details over the 'phone, it's more secure that way, we don't have machines or readers, etc." I am a trusting soul, perhaps a bit naive, but I do have a high regard for this sort of charity so I still go along with it. The nett result was I travel on the first day of the second lockdown, arriving in Hayle like turning up at the Arrivals Lounge to collect a mail-order bride and I could only hope it wasn't Ting-Tong. Still no chance of going to the pens to actually see her ("Sorry"), instead a nice little lass with a nervous smile on her face came out with a cat box held at arms length and that was it. There's a big of childhood doggerel that came to mind. "There was a little girl with a little curl right in the middle of her forehead, and when she was good she was very, very good, but when she was bad she was horrid!" That is Rosie to a "T". Got her home to see her for the first time as the travel box was opened and I was totally love-bombed by a cat that was far from timid, but after about ten or fifteen minutes she vanished. She'd found her secure space under a sofa and promptly gone to sleep. That became a cycle for the first couple of weeks, first day or two secured in one room and then on a day by day basis opening a bit more of the house, and she would play along and then take herself away to sleep on what she had learned. I discovered that more than 90% of the time she is very smart, sometimes a bit uncertain and wary (it's weird having to act as a cat's wingman so she'll use the litter tray) and very dependant on human company. She seems to need to know where I am so she can ignore me. Trips into the garden are hilarious. She knows how the cat-flap works although she's obviously wary, she is much happier with me as a wingman, following me round as if she was a little dog. That situation of a 'stray in the pet shop car park' looks more suspicious each time I think about it. Things may change but this is not a cat who is out from dusk til dawn and likely to wander miles. However, the problem came in that once or twice a day she would be triggered into some sort of survival mode, a real Rambo moment in where she would run up and attack me and then back off and cower awaiting the repercussions. She knows when she's 'been bad'. She wasn't play-fighting either. It's hard to see and a lot of patience was needed, not to mention liberal quantities of TCP. Breakthrough came after about a month when I realised she wasn't using her claws any more (accidents still happen, but there's no intent) and although she bites she doesn't even leave a mark. However, she still has the "daily hate" and I can only imagine it is the result of some sort of feline PTSD. There doesn't seem to be any specific causes like a 'sore spot' or not liking being crept up on, it's her own demons. I imagine scenarios with people who are ignorant even if their not malicious and things "make sense", but there's no proof. People who tease a kitten with their fingers as 'creepy-crawlies' but then get aggressive when the kitten turns into a cat with adult claws, but think they can beat the cat into submission, that sort of thing. However, as I am not Dr. Dolittle I can't sit her down and adopt a mock-German accent to find out for real. I always seem to have found females with 'baggage', in this instance she's got four legs. Ho-hum. The story will continue, the times when she obviously wants company makes up for the jitters. No nervous perching with all four paws on one kneecap here, it's a full-body 'flump' from one knee to the other hip with her nose shoved under the elbow and purring like a badly tuned engine!

Very, very tasty looking job.

Thanks for the heads-up. I was working as a paper-boy when the kits first appeared in the newsagents and I could have fallen over backwards. It was the little legend or caption that appeared on the box-top that also appealed, grounding the subject and making them respectable to one's parents, I suppose, being 'historical' rather than just 'toys'.

The Camel is a great kit because the breakdown of the top wing makes rigging a lot easier. This photos show how the upper c/s has been prepped with the landing wires in place and looped around the wing fixing tabs, and if you squint you can see the front cross bracing between the two front strut locating holes. Two holes were drilled through the bullet (steady hands and the accompaniment of squinting and grinding teeth) and the rigging wire was glued to the upper hole (of the bullet) so it could be centred between the struts. At the stage the overlength lower wire was fitted but allowed to 'float' (i.e., unsecured) so the bullet would self-centre when the lower wire was tensioned. Next step is obvious; the c/s was fitted in place. The sneaky bit comes in that the geometry of the Camel is such that the cross-bracing wires will pass through the 'hump' and can be glued to the front of the firewall. One end of the cross-bracing is glued firmly, then the other end is pulled down (should have specified I used elastic line) until the bullet is 7mm from the top wing. HTH

This kit has a three part top wing, made rigging a lot easier than most. The Centre section was completed first and then the landing wires, from inner top to outer bottom, were simple as the top outer panels weren't yet fitted. The interplane struts were next, fitted with their cross-bracing as that runs between the strut ends rather than the wing surface, followed by each outer panel fitted one at a time with the rear flying wires first to be sorted. The forward flying wires were last as they are anchored to the top of the front undercarriage and the wing's stagger leaves them moderately exposed. Too true.

Carrier a/c, I figured the usual dust and mud was not appropriate, though they do stand out a bit.

Finished this one as the 'box top markings', one of the a/c that took part in the first carrier launched strike in June 1918, hence the daubed on PC10 to darken the light areas. Terrific kit, can only pray they re-appear if and when the moulds are taken over.

And lot's of other good stuff. Trouble is I feel we're trying to return to topics that (for me at least) were debated to death and given up as a lost cause decades ago. No pleasure to be gained from just being the modelling equivalent of a pub bore, and believe me there's also no pleasure in "I told you so . . .".

There's a lot of truth been said about keeping the gluing areas clear of paint as the fit is so precise, but I'd go a step further: do NOT fix the position of the formers A29 and A22 (the latter being the 'big 'un' that carries the fuel tanks and magazines) until when the centre section struts are fitted. If they're misaligned by so much as half-a-mil the struts will be all askew, the top wing won't fit and there's nothing you can do about it. I'm planning the next one (got the Green Tail Trilogy) and am considering leaving the engine bearers out until the C/S struts are in place to help with this. The lower wings are a terrific friction fit to the fuselage and I think I'll leave the final gluing until the interplane V-struts are fitted to again allow for some crucial adjustment. Don't forget to scratch build and fit the radiator shutter lever under the trailing edge of the top wing where the pilot could grab it with his right hand, if the louvred radiator is used.

Pardon the self-indulgence as I try out the posting process, but this model finally rolled out of the workshop, not least assisted by the solitude and time permitted under the present conditions. Second one I've built, the first was created under rather fraught conditions and didn't get past the final assembly. Very nice kit finished with AK Interactive paints, Pheon markings combined with those from the kit and Uschi vdr wood panelling decals. (Ah-hah, he says, I think I've got it figured . . .)

You beat me to it. I understood the former represented the Chrysanthemum Throne while the naval ensign was more associated with Imperial ambitions?

I can't find the imagery, but anyone remember the Airfix "Dogfight Double" of the Mirage III vs MiG-15? All flaming afterburner and panicking groundcrew? The MiG-21 vs Cessna O-2 was equally dramatic.

I've recently taken yet another five or six armloads of magazines to the tip (even the charity shops won't take them of your hands now for "50p each, three for a quid") and the only ones I've kept back are the Airfix magazines, simply because their more catholic coverage does illustrate the breadth of the hobby.

I'd love to see Hugh Bonneville and the rest of the "W1A" crowd self-justifying their way out of all these criticisms. (Yes, I know it's fictional, but I always felt it had more than a whiff of realism about it.)