pigsty

Oh, that's a shame. With all this "mine's gone all big" and "I've got it in hand" this thread was starting to sound like a Carry On film ...

I don't think they were actual car doors. They're just called that because they hinge sideways. The other option at the time was a sliding or side-opening canopy with high sills, and a cockpit into which the pilot lowered himself. A car door would certainly be easier than that and the designers may have thought that it would be easier to get out that way too, especially if the canopy might have got stuck. A further option was a sliding hood with a bottom-hinged door, as with the Spitfire. At least one design, the P-39, had two doors, which suggests redundancy being built in to allow for one being damaged. Practical experience might then have shown that neither location for a side hinge is ideal, while a bottom hinge is easier to use in many flight conditions. What seemed a good idea on paper wasn't so good in real life; cockpit access certainly wouldn't have been the only feature where that happened. The question of framed -v- blown canopy is separate. A car door would have been trickier to build into a blown canopy arrangement, but the car door was probably going to have been abandoned either way.

If you're talking 1/32, I'm planning to paint the lights on my F-15E, so you'd be welcome to all the decals.

A man wakes up after a lengthy operation to find his hands splinted and bandaged, not even his fingertips visible. "Give it to me straight," he says to the doctor, "will I ever be able to play the piano?" "Oh yes," replies the doctor, "your injuries were quite minor and all that is just to make sure the healing process works as quickly as possible." "That's brilliant!" says the patient. "I couldn't play a note before."

Outside my office there's a Fire Assembly Point. But there's never any paint or glue, and the instructions are rubbish.

Still thriving; hard to find on the A303 but worth the small detour on the A350 etc. Set in an interesting town, so there's more than one excuse to visit. Didn't know Endless Models had closed ... that will teach me not to rely on Google Maps.

But ... how will we cope with edible food?

Oh yes, other places ... in Salisbury there's Endless Models (on Endless Street, which has at least two ends) and Salisbury Model Centre. Train Times in Eastbourne is sometimes worth a look.

Not any more. He closed last year, alas. Malletts Home Hardware in Truro has probably the best selection in Cornwall now. And it's not actually all that bad.

Welcome indeed. Shameless pitch time: can I interest you in a model club in Sevenoaks? We're always very happy to take on a new member and we already have one in Biggin Hill, so you could share the petrol costs! Drop me a personal message if you'd like more details.

Umm. Er. What do you mean by splinter padding?

Fascinating indeed. But if you think that lot looks odd on a carrier, you should see the USS Intrepid.

Hondas, every last one of them! I owned two SD1s and I still miss the V8. As I go to shows with more and more bulky boxes, I sometimes wish it had been possible to buy a V8 estate ... and to afford to keep it on the road.

I was at a loose end for a couple of hours the other day so I went for a quick nine holes at my local golf course. This old chap came up and asked if he could join me, as we were both singletons and it's always better to measure yourself against someone else. I wondered if he might end up slowing me down, but I agreed. To my pleasant surprise he turned out to be an asset. He wasn't quick, but he played steadily and kept pace with me up and down the fairways. But more than that, he offered really useful advice at every hole. He'd been playing the course for years and seemed to know every wrinkle. Eventually we reached the ninth and I hit a snag. My tee shot went wide and fetched up at the edge of the course. There was a huge pine tree directly between me and the green, and it was only a few yards away. I scratched my head for a bit. The old boy came up and said "That happened to me once, about thirty years back. I just hit the ball straight over the tree and it was fine." "Really?" "Really." Well, I was doubtful, but he had the experience ... so I lined up, swung the iron, and gave the ball a hefty whack. It went straight up in the air, hit the tree about two-thirds of the way up, and fell back four feet behind me. "Of course," says the old boy, "thirty years ago that tree was only three feet high ..."

My local butcher backed into his mincing machine today. He's alright, but he got a little behind in his work.