The mill after another hour or so of tinkering yesterday evening. Over the years, I've managed to neaten up my construction process and don't leave quite so many fingerprints fossilized in glue all over the models as I did once upon a time in the distant, dimming past of the mid-1980s.
The mill is slowly coming together, but I cannot remember when a scratchbuilt model structure presented so many challenges. Ok, frustrating problems. But it's all a learning experience, right?
As indicated in yesterday's post, the roofline and waterwheel, in particular, have taken several attempts each to arrive at something that, at least, gives the right impression. The details are not exact enough for, say a model railroad project, the best of which feature meticulous and painstaking attention to detail, but it will work well enough in a wargaming context.
Underscale, stylized structures, as I mentioned a couple of years ago in an article on building a North German town center, penned for Charles Grant's 2018 Wargamer's Annual, should be the goal rather than accurately scaled models too fragile for handling. The former provide the right stage dressing, atmosphere, and local color for our games without taking too much time to build, or tabletop space.
Circuitous digression notwithstanding, the point is that it still took a while to nail down something that resembles a waterwheel on the side of a rural mill in a mid-18th century "German" territory. Initially, I had a go at cutting out a couple of somewhat round side pieces from heavy card, kind of along the same lines as that featured in Charles' how-two piece on building a mill in the 2012 Wargamer's Annual.
Just how I avoided slicing dangerously into a finger or palm during all of this is still up for speculation. But two attempts, and two X-acto blades later, one of which was dangerously dull, and I was left with a tiny pile of cardboard scraps, but nothing good enough to use for the intended waterwheel. Grumble, grumble, grumble. . .
I finally got smart and rooted around in one of the three drawers here to my left where I keep my model making tools, most of my supplies, oil paints, and (in the deep bottom drawer) the carefully sorted pile of unpainted lead. I dug out a small diameter heavy cardboard tube that I've hung onto for more than a decade and soon sawed off a 1" piece to form the basis of the wheel using my mini miter saw. After much subsequent slicing, trimming, and gluing, I was left with something approximating the wheel on an old water-driven mill.
As I say, the details on my model are more than a little sketchy -- if anyone out there actually knows about the component parts of old water driven mills, never mind now -- but the end result looks sort of like what it purports to be, and that's good enough for me. Just a few more details to cut out and assemble, but then I can paint everything, apply the suggested fenestration (doors and windows),and Bob's your uncle.
Sawmill Village, here I come!
Here is the basic structure on Friday evening all finished, glue still drying in a few places, and ready for painting.
All base-coated and ready for painting on Saturday morning. Acrylic gesso seals the cardboard and provides a nice, even surface for the paint. It also helps brighter colors to show up in much the same way as a white undercoat does for the miniatures themselves.