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Procopius last won the day on January 20

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  1. So I forgot how truly amazing micromesh is at smoothing things out, and when my new sheets of it arrived today, I learned anew. Joins vanished beneath its relentless assault. Of course, lighting conditions are poor, so you'll just have to take my word for it. Smooth! Like butter! Feeling a bit chuffed, I reprimed, as seen above, then hunted around for my tin of Colourcoats Sky Blue. I then panicked because it wasn't in my paint drawers, only to realize that Past Edward had been thoughtful for once, and put it on the workbench. For once in his life, that selfish jerk thought of Future Edward. Not many people think of Future Edward, certainly not Mrs P, who is obsessing over having a third child, as if the first two weren't more than anyone could ever want or need. (However, she is doing a huge favour for Present Edward by heading off to Michigan with the kids tomorrow for ten magical days. Farewell and good riddance to my offspring. Tonight as I was reading to him, Grant told me I wasn't his father and that I killed his father, so possibly no more Star Wars for him.) In any case, the Colourcoats went on well, as it always does, though Sky Blue is hard to distinguish from Mr Surfacer 1000 primer at the best of times. Once it dries, it will be masked and then we'll use Roundel Blue for the upper surfaces. Refresh my memory: did the Malta Spitfires used the DH spinners or Rotol or was it a mix? For some reason my brain muddled up the fact that Sea Hurricane Is used DH spinners invariably with the idea that they were somehow better suited for all aircraft taking off from carriers, which can't be right.
  2. This is exactly the sort of thing I was looking for. Unfortunately it seems that neither kit is all that it should be, which is most disappointing.
  3. Hullo, I've been flirting with the idea of building some braille scale armour, and I was wondering if there was a clear winner in accuracy between the Trumpeter and Dragon kits? I know the 1/35 Trumpeter Chally 2 has some issues.
  4. Cookie! I only just discovered this thread today (I am a failed human being) and sat and read it straight through while my children fought to the death over a lego piece. (I'll see who the winner was later.) You've had a lot of trials and tribulations on this build, and I imagine you were pretty frustrated at times, but the results speak for themselves. I hope you recognize what an incredible achievement this is here, both on the painting and weathering side, and on the construction side as well. This is some exquisite Real ModellingTM and you should be justly proud.
  5. Good heavens, Crisp! Your mighty thews were never meant to be so encased, poor gallant fellow. Something similar happened to my mother many years ago and she ended up needing surgery. While she was thus bedridden, the prankster father of my then best-friend (I was ten and they had taped ALL the Doctor Who episodes off PBS) hit upon the idea to present her with a dead mouse in a tupperware container with a bow, with me playing the role of Hermes, messenger of the gods. I was in on it, and just young and stupid enough to think it was an amazing idea. Now at this time my mom had a sort of electric garter she had to wear to stimulate her leg muscles and keep them from atrophying while she was in drydock. I duly presented her with the box (which unbeknownst to me had previously been used to deliver fudge to her), which she excitedly open. What happened next is hard to describe, because it defies my understanding of both physics and the human body. My mom somehow managed to shriek while contracting her body like a unicellular organism delivered a shock, and then levitated about two feet in the air and came back down hard. I had about a half second to reflect upon my choices before my father seized hold of me, and recognizing that I was about to die, I decided I wouldn't go alone, and blurted "it was Mr Kovalevich's idea!" Mr Kovalevich had dropped me off and was just about to slink out the front door when my dad intercepted him and frog-marched him off to my mother, who spent the next thirty minutes or so alternately yelling at one or the other of us. I am not sure he ever entirely forgave me for ratting him out.
  6. How right you were! It needs a bit of sanding, but I think we're on the right track here. I am in your debt. Nope, Mrs P laid the blame squarely on Winston. She was so angry she dropped about six or eight big big Fs in front of Grant, who said "mommy, you're scaring me". "GOOD," she snarled. She is much better now, the margaritas helped. Somewhere in the middle of this anecdote I retreated into a protective fugue state. This is why I refuse to fly with the children.
  7. I was thinking of robbing some spares from an Eduard kit, in fact!
  8. Today/Friday was supposed to be my monthly date night with Mrs P, but this morning Winston threw up on the couch while watching TV, and then decided TV was more important than letting us know, so he continued throwing up until one of us walked over to see how he was doing. There's not much more pathetic than a sick five year old, and also not many things on this earth less likely to elicit sympathy than someone who refuses to throw up in a receptacle, even when begged, and both Mrs P and I said and did things we're not proud of in the heat of the moment. I have never felt like less of a man than when threatening a sick child with serious, irreversible physical injury if he didn't lean over the toilet we'd carried him to. Parenting is an adventure. After falling asleep in the above command post for a few hours, he emerged, looking like hammered crap, and cheerily informed us he was much better. Uh-huh. So Mrs P and I didn't go to the wine bar tonight, but I did work on the Spitfire, and we bought five dollar margaritas whose cheapness is equaled only by their truly astounding potency from a take-out place. Mrs P was last seen wobbling off to bed, and likely won't be seen again until the early afternoon. Anyway! I took @Red Dog's excellent advice on the fuel filler cap, and I think it should do nicely. I drilled it out with a 1/16" bit (all I had handy) in a pin vice, then punched out a 1.6mm circle of card and caaaaaaaarefully pushed it down into the hole. If it ends up looking bad, I shall lay all the blame on his broad shoulders, of course.
  9. A Dillon Model Xl750 progressive reloading press, which allows me to make working 1:1 scale rounds of ammunition in quite a short period of time. More importantly: The Eduard Adlerangriff 1/72 109 set from MJW Battle of Britain Combat Archives 8-10 from Wing Leader / Red Kite Press
  10. Never fear, I live fairly north of the city in a swanky suburb run by professionally concerned soccer moms, and the violent crime rate (as opposed to property crime rate -- lots of poorly-driven Mercedes to steal or key) is exceptionally low, about a quarter of the statewide average. I haven't even set foot in Chicago since March of last year. At some point I'll need to go back to my office, if only to get the Airfix Victor. It is indeed the only way to go, unless you care to spend something like $150 for ten rounds on the rare instances when they're available, which I don't. I do have some more modern stuff as well -- I took up reloading to ensure a steady supply of .303 and 38/200 ammunition for my Lee-Enfield and Enfield No2 MkI*, but the pandemic intervened and I've mostly spent the past year loading about a thousand rounds of 223. Right now my current project is finding a load that plays nice with my new Walther PDP. I enjoy wearing the Osprey in a general sense, because I appreciate that I will never, in ten million years, need to wear level IV armour plate, and if I do, my plan has always been to die the moment I'm even slightly inconvenienced. That said, I also have a Ferro FCPC which works more than a little bit better with my Hesco plates, with a Haley D3CR micro and a dangler pouch attached to it. I think for ease of access I prefer that, but the Osprey is definitely more sturdy and lets me carry six magazines as opposed to three, the better to blast my hated foe, the dreaded paper targets, with. You've been pretty fortunate so far on a national level, have you not?
  11. Goodness me, what a long time it's been. A lot has happened. I got a Martini-Henry rifle and have been learning how to reload for it. This has been a resounding, albeit rather expensive success. I have not blown myself up. As you can see, I've also put on quite a bit of weight. That's the hell-times we're living in now. On the plus side, if the Zulus attack, I'm as ready as I'll ever be, and heavily incentivized to win the fight, since I certainly'm in no condition to run away. Mrs P got pregnant again and we lost the baby again, so it's been a bit rough on that front, but perhaps it's for the best, as we're both pushing forty pretty hard now and as I'm so fed up with my own children that I'm thinking of visiting the fate that Cronus reserved for his own fractious offspring upon them. I regret to say I haven't had much time for modelling, or rather haven't made much time for it of late. I've just been exhausted, I have no time to read (and the research is one of my favourite parts), because I'm always home with my children, and there seems to be some confusion over whether or not I'm a professional with a full-time job or merely a convenient free babysitter who can take over whenever Parent A is feeling like a nap, usually around bathtime, where the loud screaming of my hellspawn synergizes with my acoustically perfect bathroom to generate migraines of truly astonishing intensity. At any rate, I managed to find some time this evening to get a little work done on this: Canopy is now on. I also wanted to try and replicate the fuel filler cap, and I think I may have hit upon the absolute worst way to do this: I used a 1.6mm punch to punch out a tiny piece of plasticard (for the record, the filler cap should be 2.1mm but I don't have a 2.1mm punch). Then I applied it to the model, where it stands far too proud: I am not certain further sanding has improved it: Anyway, how are all of you? What did I miss?
  12. About a decade before my time, I'm afraid!
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