A flash of clean light hope (1/72 J F Edwards Kittyhawk I)

[Stew Dapple]

38 minutes ago, Procopius said:

It's magical.

 

I can tell, it's written all over your face  

 

39 minutes ago, Procopius said:

If I were a colossal cynic, I would think the utter lack of care lavished on these parts might have some vague connection to the fact that the CMK portion of the Special Hobby octopus produced resin aftermarket stubs, but that would be ugly of me.

 

I'm shocked, shocked I tell you. Still, you made a good job with what they provided  

 

Cheers,

 

Stew

[perdu]

I hear rumours about those things.

 

Apparently they grow up in the most delightful way, which must be true because Maurice said so!

 

Growing up with a baby sister I was unconvinced, specially when she stabbed her mouth from inside at breakfast one morning.

 

Beware lady children.

 

 

 

Your face, that look, takes me back.

 

 

Hi little Procopian

 

 

 

[Hook]

On 11/4/2022 at 5:15 AM, Procopius said:

And then I was overcome by a furious cold rage. Clemenceau, speaking in 1914, said "There come times, in the lives of peoples, when there passes over them a tempest of heroic action."

'Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.' - H.L. Mencken

 

Very nice save on the camouflage! And great job fitting those exhausts. 

 

Cheers,

 

Andre

[06/24]

You may hate me for saying so, but Madeleine is, of course, gorgeous, and I will happily takeover as Daddy daycare if you can get me a green card and match my outrageous salary demands. Failing that, air freight all three sprogs  to Scotland and we’ll sort ‘em out. 
 

Meanwhile, the winged thing is gorgeous, and weathering seems like a perfect next step, I would go with a pale white/yellow gouache dot filter to fade and blend it all down. But what do I know, I only stick stuff together these days 😂

[Cookenbacher]

17 hours ago, Procopius said:

and more flash than a 1950s press conference

You are a treasure PC, and that Kittyhawk is looking sweet.

[Procopius]

10 hours ago, 06/24 said:

You may hate me for saying so, but Madeleine is, of course, gorgeous, and I will happily takeover as Daddy daycare if you can get me a green card and match my outrageous salary demands. Failing that, air freight all three sprogs  to Scotland and we’ll sort ‘em out. 

What if I just sent one large child, somewhat larger than one is used to children being?

 

In any case, today was the local -- I use the term very loosely -- IPMS show, forty miles away in Wheaton. I had a short list of things to do before I left: get groceries, and take the boys to Target* to spend the twenty dollars their great aunt and uncle had sent each of them. In my distant, long-vanished youth, twenty dollars was real money (in fact, I see that $20 1990 dollars equate to $45 2022 dollars, which is almost precisely what I guessed it would be), but for the boys, it was merely an object lesson in how twenty dollars falls just short of buying anything cool. This was not helped by Winston's incredible indecisiveness when surrounded by a vast panoply of things he could potentially buy, most (but not all) solidly over twenty bucks. We spent one hour getting groceries, and almost two in that damn Target. I was quite spent by the time I got home.

 

One of the unfortunate things about being a parent, especially a parent of multiple children, is that even if you've been Very Good and patiently allowed some of your children to exhaust you, there's no guarantee that Parent A, who you made breakfast in bed for (omelette) will have gotten any rest while at home with Poor Life Choice 3. In fact, Parent A did everything but rest, so I was still on deck after getting back. We had previously discussed my going to the show, and the potential for taking the boys (you can't offer something to only one of them, which has been ruinously expensive at times) and so after feeding them and myself, I gave thirty minutes notice for departure. Winston wanted to come, and Grant -- under a grievous misapprehension over who was going to get the bulk of mommy's attention, him, or a barely sentient blob which is in mortal danger when in her favourite sleeping position -- opted to stay behind.

 

As I mentioned, Wheaton is quite far away, requiring one to take a sort of sharply curving path south to evade the city proper. Today we had 55 MPH winds, and as you're probably quite aware, Illinois is effectively flat, with no real terrain to speak of. This meant that the roads were very exciting places to be for forty miles, and that only two broad groups of drivers were on the road: those frightened out of their wits, and the criminally insane. The latter prefer, depending on their social class, BMWs or lifted pickups, and you can safely assume that were you to heave a brick through one's window, you would soon have access to a bumper of cocaine or an unregistered handgun, respectively. Very exciting indeed. 

 

Unfortunately, we reached the show far too late, and several of the vendors were already packing up, and the built models were sequestered for Judgement. The show had changed venues as well, and had much less space this year, and the vendors' room was regrettably, immediately following the registration. The folks at the registration desk were too busy hobnobbing, and so after ten minutes waiting patiently to pay the entry fee with an increasingly fidgety Winston, I walked in, confident that any efforts to stop me would be at a similar level of disorganization and could safely be laughed off. 

 

The dealers' room actually generally has a lot of cool stuff at the show, and I was looking forward to browsing it, but browsing alone allows me to indulge the furtive, unlovable person who lurks just beneath my skin, the insatiable maw that, knowing it can never be loved, feels the overpowering urge to buy and buy and buy and buy in the vain hope that someday it will somehow be sated and complete, whereas browsing with Winston means that I have to try and manage his own insatiable maw instead of letting my own have free rein. So we passed a lot of stuff I desperately wanted to impulse buy (1/700 Type 42, Type 45, HMS Illustrious, and a few others for $10-15 each; a 1/32 new Revell Spitfire II for $16; $30 Airfix FG.1 Phantom etc etc), while trying to find an affordable kit for Winston (and thus also one for Grant) that he actually had a hope in hell of building. There were tons of old Heller, Airfix, and Hasegawa kits there, often only $5 or $10, so we had a fighting chance, but Winston of course dreams big, as all people who have yet to be crushed by the full weight of the world do, and was interested in: a $200 1/350 USS Wasp (LHD-1, not CV-7); some 1/18 Forces of Valor stuff in the $50 range (my entire budget for the show was $60, funded entirely by the fact that I am very good at coming in underbudget with the groceries); an ancient 1/600 Airfix HMS Repulse -- with no price listed, which is always dangerous, especially as I am not, in the slightest, a haggler -- and an HMS Hood, also unpriced, which he suggested could be for Grant, presumably not realizing he was giving up ten thousand tons and two 15-inch guns to his younger brother thereby; and divers and sundry more in this line. For a moment things were looking up when he found the Hasegawa weapons packs, but he wanted to buy a bunch of those and then some jets to hang them on (understandable), which was looking to add up fast, and there is of course no guarantee at all that he'll actually ever build them.

 

They did eventually open the model area, and we looked over the (sadly few) entries, including two magnificent 1/48 B-58 Hustlers. Win actually seemed fairly interested.

 

 

Amidst all of this, I managed to score two Italeri Wessex HU.5s, probably my favourite helicopter for looks (for the same reason the MiG-29SMT is my favourite MiG: it looks stupid), for eight dollars each. Unfortunately, due to a misapprehension on Winston's part, he came to believe these were somehow reserve kits for himself and Grant should he be unable to make a decision on his own, and so now I have no kits. Winston suggested strongly that next year I should enter a kit; mercifully their next show will be 2024, which is some sort of regional thing, so perhaps he'll forget by then, He did seem to have fun, but then again: he got a Wessex out of it.

 

Anyway, we got back, and discovered that Grant's ruinous love (he gets overcome by it and slowly sticks his perceptibly vibrating face mere microns away from someone else's, usually the sleeping baby, and emits a strange sort of high-pitched noise which our scientists believe is pent-up joy) kept everyone from getting any rest yet again, so I lugged a bellowing twelve-pound infant around and tried to get the boys into bed, then was left with her while Mrs P showered until 9:30 PM, a shower that was frankly alarmingly long, and which I rather fear lowered the level of Lake Michigan by several inches. I'm trying to summon the strength to work on the kit, but I'm tired enough that I think it might be a mistake to mess with it right now.

 

 

 

 

 

* If the midwestern United States had an official religion, it would not, in fact, be underinformed nondenominational Protestantism, but Target, and possibly also potlucks. 

[Pete in Lincs]

And so endeth the day. PC, what a tale of woe. Good luck for the morrow (And the next couple of decades.) Best of British Mate!

[jackroadkill]

Choosing my reaction to the above post was difficult, Edward (as is the fact that I will insist on spelling your name "Edawrd", for some reason, and then have to correct it); I didn't want to leave a laugh, because, well, that would seem to make light.  A thanks might smack of schadenfreude and a confused face opens up a whole can of worms.  In the end I just went for a like, which is a bit ambiguous and not very descriptive.

 

[John Laidlaw]

22 hours ago, Procopius said:

only two broad groups of drivers were on the road: those frightened out of their wits, and the criminally insane

A reasonably analysis. We have the same here, only they're also mostly drunk.

[Corsairfoxfouruncle]

1 hour ago, John Laidlaw said:

A reasonably analysis. We have the same here, only they're also mostly drunk.

Hey Im from Wisconsin … and I must say “we resemble that remark”. Now if anyone isn't quite sure or knows much about Wisconsin. It is the leader for two categories when it comes to drinking. One there is zero age limit, as long as your guardian (21 or older) say’s you can drink then you can drink. I say this because my uncle owns a bar and I grew up watching kids drink. Two Wisconsin natives have very little to do in the winter and other months. So drinking is considered an olympic sport by most. Native Wisconsinite’s take it extremely serious as a sport by the way. 

[John Laidlaw]

Just now, Corsairfoxfouruncle said:

Hey Im from Wisconsin … and I must say “we resemble that remark”. Now if anyone isn't quite sure or knows much about Wisconsin. It is the leader for two categories when it comes to drinking. One there is zero age limit, as long as your guardian (21 or older) say’s you can drink then you can drink. I say this because my uncle owns a bar and I grew up watching kids drink. Two Wisconsin natives have very little to do in the winter and other months. So drinking is considered an olympic sport by most. Native Wisconsinite’s take it extremely serious as a sport by the way. 

I have fully embraced the Wisconsinite approach to life. I particularly like the approach to Bloody Marys and the fact you can get your daily everything from just one drink.

[perdu]

I'll drink to that!  🍻

[Procopius]

I forgot to mention: on inspecting the Wessex box, Winston asked me, very suspiciously: "What's the military purpose of this helicopter?" 

 

Well son, mainly to help prop up Westland until it's time for Michael Heseltine to resign.

[jackroadkill]

5 minutes ago, Procopius said:

I forgot to mention: on inspecting the Wessex box, Winston asked me, very suspiciously: "What's the military purpose of this helicopter?" 

 

Well son, mainly to help prop up Westland until it's time for Michael Heseltine to resign.

 

Oho, the truth, eh?  Careful, Edward, they'll all want some.

[Procopius]

1 minute ago, jackroadkill said:

 

Oho, the truth, eh?  Careful, Edward, they'll all want some.

 

Win gets a lot of excessively detailed explanations from his old dad ( though not, mercifully, of the Westland Affair), including, but not limited to: the coal wars between the miners and the mining companies; the Holocaust; how ground-controlled interception works; the rise of Adolf Hitler; why aircraft carriers steam into the wind to launch aircraft; Prohibition; why Groucho Marx is funny; what a BMW is and exactly what kind of person owns them; etc. 

[jackroadkill]

@Procopius, this sounds like the sort of conversation I used to have with my imaginary children.  Once some actual children arrived I was slightly dismayed to discover that mostly our conversations started with me saying "For Christ's sake Karin / Morgan / Seren, how many times have I......".  Never mind, I thought, when they get a bit older we'll have scintillating discussions about a wide range of inspiring subjects, but when they did get older (say into their later teens) I was slightly dismayed to discover that mostly our conversations started with me saying "For Christ's sake Karin / Morgan / Seren, how many times have I......" again.  We do have much better conversations these days, at least from my viewpoint, but they generally shake their heads pityingly before leaving to continue the never-ending party that their lives seem to be.

 

On the other hand, these are infinitely preferable to the conversations I have with my own father, which consist of him making racist / homophobic / misogynistic statements and me telling him that those sort of sentiments aren't ones I agree with.  He'll then complain that "You can't bloody say anything these days" and I'll reply by saying "Dad, you can say anything you want, but with that comes accepting that other people can do the same - you can say anything you like but you have to bear responsibility for it".  He then complains that I wasn't brought up to be a whingy leftie and I suggest that if anyone gets the blame for teaching me to think for myself it's him, and he can't complain that we have differing opinions based on both of us thinking for ourselves.  Thereafter a short period of quiet ensues before we talk about dogs, which is the only subject we agree on.

 

Families, eh?

[Procopius]

1 minute ago, jackroadkill said:

@Procopius, this sounds like the sort of conversation I used to have with my imaginary children.  Once some actual children arrived I was slightly dismayed to discover that mostly our conversations started with me saying "For Christ's sake Karin / Morgan / Seren, how many times have I......".  Never mind, I thought, when they get a bit older we'll have scintillating discussions about a wide range of inspiring subjects, but when they did get older (say into their later teens) I was slightly dismayed to discover that mostly our conversations started with me saying "For Christ's sake Karin / Morgan / Seren, how many times have I......" again.  We do have much better conversations these days, at least from my viewpoint, but they generally shake their heads pityingly before leaving to continue the never-ending party that their lives seem to be.

 

See, I'm totally different, I say "Jesus Christ, Winston!" The other day I dropped an F-bomb on him, which I'm not proud of, but I was holding the baby, and he seems to assume that because my arms aren't free, nothing I say needs to be listened to, so I needed to employ some amplifying language to clarify that I would kill him if he woke his mother. It had roughly the effect upon him that yelling "Maud'dib" had on Sting at the end of David Lynch's Dune. 

 

4 minutes ago, jackroadkill said:

On the other hand, these are infinitely preferable to the conversations I have with my own father, which consist of him making racist / homophobic / misogynistic statements and me telling him that those sort of sentiments aren't ones I agree with.  He'll then complain that "You can't bloody say anything these days" and I'll reply by saying "Dad, you can say anything you want, but with that comes accepting that other people can do the same - you can say anything you like but you have to bear responsibility for it".  He then complains that I wasn't brought up to be a whingy leftie and I suggest that if anyone gets the blame for teaching me to think for myself it's him, and he can't complain that we have differing opinions based on both of us thinking for ourselves.  Thereafter a short period of quiet ensues before we talk about dogs, which is the only subject we agree on.

 

Ah yes. My father probably holds all the same views, but is more genteel about it. My parents and I got along a lot better after I ran away; I think it sort of reset things. My dad may radically disagree with me on most things, but once I replaced all of my toilets on my own, I believe I accrued sufficient Real American points in his eyes.

[Corsairfoxfouruncle]

2 hours ago, Procopius said:

It had roughly the effect upon him that yelling "Maud'dib" had on Sting at the end of David Lynch's Dune. 

Love this line 😂

[jackroadkill]

4 hours ago, Procopius said:

but once I replaced all of my toilets on my own,

 

It's funny how Dads -Of-A-Certain-Age seem to need their children to measure using their own metrics, isn't it?  Well, I say metrics; my old man still uses Imperial spanners and then complains that nuts aren't made like they used to be.

[Procopius]

9 hours ago, jackroadkill said:

 

It's funny how Dads -Of-A-Certain-Age seem to need their children to measure using their own metrics, isn't it?  Well, I say metrics; my old man still uses Imperial spanners and then complains that nuts aren't made like they used to be.

 

My dad and I are not close, but I have to confess, as I grow older, I hear him speak with my voice to my children quite often, and I have a lot more sympathy for how tired he must have been all the time with four children. 

 

Also, weird side note, I just read a children's book to the boys that was set in Victorian Wales with a main character named Seren! Like all Americans, I am dead certain that I can do excellent approximations of virtually any regional accent of the British Isles, but even I couldn't tell myself I was coming remotely close to nailing a Welsh accent (unlike their mother, who reads in a halting monotone, as if the North Vietnamese had ordered her to host storytime after bringing down her Skyhawk, I do all the voices when I read, and I have lived to regret it).

 

 

In other news, something exciting showed up today at Manse Procopius, having evaded suicide drones (always a good sign when your aspiring world power's best offensive weapon has to be begged off repressive third world countries), T-62s, and bewildered conscripts, and heaven knows what else. 

 

 

It looks very nice in the box, but don't they all? Just waiting on someone to make UK decals for her. (I believe Air-Graphics is reboxing 50 kits with RAF decals, but I'm not sure if they'll sell them separate, firstly, and secondly, I'm always a little nervous ordering from them.) 

 

Grant's Wessex has survived another day, which is amazing, since watching Grant move is like watching an octopus being electrocuted. He's the floppiest human being I've ever seen, and if a doctor told me he in fact had no bones, I would barely be surprised, and then only because he's headbutted me and I saw other galaxies.

 

 

 

Grant really likes decals, and really hates waiting to put them on.

 

I tried to barter with Winston for the other Wessex, which, you will recall, was really meant for me anyway, but it ended with him compromising by taking the Airfix Red Arrows Hawk I offered and retaining the Wessex. I am not a good negotiator. Also arriving today for him and Grant to build was the old Airfix 1/600 HMS Hood, which I figured would be basic enough that the boys could get into it with the loan of some tools. Maybe he will forget about the Wessex. (He won't.)

 

 

And in other other news, decals are on. There aren't really many: national markings, squadron codes, serials, and I think five stencils, the Special Hobby kit not being graced with an overabundance of them.

 

 

 

 

The DK Decals tend to stick where they land, so it was a bit nerve-wracking, but they're all on in more or less the right places. Next we need to seal them in and add that weird white area on the spine.

 

 

I really wish I could find the photo they used as a reference, but no joy so far. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Stew Dapple]

P-40's looking dead nice mate  

 

... and Grant did a great job on the Wessex 👍 I believe the Airfix kit of that helicopter (or a similar one, I was about 6 years old and not the most observant child) was the first kit I ever failed at - I should qualify that by admitting it was perhaps the third that I attempted to build myself rather than waiting out the glacial progress that was a characteristic of getting my Dad to build a kit for me. I can still feel the bitter rage at the unfairness of it all, but it did set me up for years of failing at kits so was in some sense a useful lesson  

 

Cheers,

 

Stew

[Procopius]

1 minute ago, Stew Dapple said:

but it did set me up for years of failing at kits so was in some sense a useful lesson

 

I would be quite content to fail my way into the results you obtain.

[Stew Dapple]

1 minute ago, Procopius said:

 

I would be quite content to fail my way into the results you obtain.

 

Not the way I failed at that Wessex mate  It got pretty ugly 

 

Cheers, 

 

Stew

[philp]

While I didn't find HS*P I did come across several pics of 260 Squadron Kittyhawks.  

Also this page.

https://www.vintagewings.ca/stories/kittyhawk-discovery

 

[Terry1954]

Nice progress on the P-40 and a great purchase with the P-8A. Love those aircraft, almost as much as the good old P-3's! In 1/72 scale, thats pretty big I imagine, so hope you have room for the RC-135W Rivet Joint that surely must follow?

 

Terry