The Grand Duchy of Stollen

  My own troops, inspired by Brigadier Peter Young's own Erbprinz Regiment., the Leib (Grand Duchess Sonja's Own) Regiment.  A gift for Christmas 2006, 60+ RSM95 Prussians painted to a clean "wargames standard" during late spring and early summer 2007, here freshly rebased during September 2017. I nspired by Big Lee's most recent wargaming vlog on his top 10 tips for newcomers to the hobby, and in response to his own invitation for viewers to add their own suggestions, I whipped up a list of my advice to newbies.  Or jaded old hands.  In no particular order, here they are:   1) Invest in enough and bright lighting for the painting table and paint your figures to the best of your ability. Wargames Standard (aka at arm’s length) is fine.   Painting is great fun by itself, but trying to do so in poor lighting is frustrating and will not produce the best results. 2) Stick to one period.   Hard, I know.   Variety is the spice of life.   The butterflies are many

'Political Billiards Game in Germany, 1758' A decided lack of mojo in the Grand Duchy during recent months, something I must do more to snap myself out of.  As I have mentioned here in previous recent posts, and to be entirely fair, there has been too much on the ol' work plate of late.  I have fallen into the trap of taking on too much and been guilty of letting that overtake everything else.  Sigh. But what of things actually in-progress over on the painting desk, albeit untouched since late last winter?  The 28mm Eureka Saxon cuirassiers sit patiently in their clear plastic box.  One squadron of 14, along with the regimental staff, are very close to being finished and the glossing stage, true, but the second needs a good basecoat of white gesso before anything more can happen in the brushwork department.   I'm thinking of painting the second batch in a different facing color to represent another regiment, however, since the squadron was the basic cavalry formation o

  Saxony's Ploetz Cuirassiers, an illustration lifted from the Kronoskaf website, which has thus far guided my spectacularly glacial painting of 30 28mm Eureka Saxon cuirassiers purchased all the way back in October 2016. A gray, cool Saturday here in Mid-Michigan with rain in the forecast. The Grand Duchess is away at a conference, so it's just "The Boys" here at home. The Young Master (almost 15) has retreated to his room for something or other following breakfast while I have stolen back down here to Zum Stollenkeller (masquerading as my office) with a second mug of coffee and both cats comfortably ensconced nearby. Enjoying the late morning and still in my pajamas! Not much planned for today beyond designing a couple of promotional flyers for workshops my department is presenting (small parties we will throw?) in October and November.  With maybe a bit of on the next podcast script. More important,  I am toying with the idea of returning for an hour or

    T his weekend, the question of what, precisely, constitutes an "imagination" came up in an online forum of which I am a part.  To be fair, the issue originates from further afield in a Facebook group that I am not a member of, but I weighed in with my own view.  The following was in response to the question posed yesterday (Sunday) morning by an exasperated member of my own rather more gentlemanly town square, who had been met with a strident response to information he shared about his (admirable) hobby activities on said FB group.  Here is, more or less, what I wrote: To my mind, the concept of imagi-nation(s) is a broad one.  It can range from historical refights or what-if scenarios/battles/campaigns between armies of a particular era, to completely made up combatants operating in a quasi-historical setting, to the rather generic red and blue forces of the Prussian Kriegspiel that examine a particular tactical problem, task, or exercise.   And then there are near

An lovely alternate view that shows the Holsten Bridge, Holsten Gate, and the salt warehouses at left, which housed various retail clothing stores when I last visited with the Grand Duchess in 2009. The Holsten Bridge, ca. 1800. A fter several months away from hobby activities -- The spring and summer simply got away from me. -- I finally purchased a package of 10 small sheets of foamcore craftboard from our old friends at Amazon. The aim is to construct a bridge based on the old illustrations above, the Holsten Bridge across the River Trave into the old city center of Hansestadt Lübeck in northern Germany. Probably my favorite place in that country. . . although Bremen and Hamburg are close seconds. I've always felt very at home in these cities for some odd reason. But I digress!  Let's talk model bridges. I find that many commercially available model/toy bridges have too much extreme swoop, or arch to them, sitting like odd warts atop the table.  I understand why

  B ut not of the toy soldiers arrayed across a Gilderesque table variety.  No.  Instead, I was in a hobby shop somewhere rooting through stacks of old, hobby-related magazines  -- for just 10 cents US each -- and managed to find copies of Wargamer's Newsletter and Battle along with early issues of Miniature Wargames , Practical Wargamer , and Military Modelling in reasonable condition.  Dog-earred and faded, sure, but still good enough to read and enjoy. I managed to gather a selection of about 24 or 30 before others in the throng had picked through everything.  Then, I had a quick conversation with the guy at the cash register about having lived in Madison and Minneapolis before leaving with my new stash.  The dream was so real that it woke me.  At 5am on a Saturday. The subconscious is cruel sometimes. -- Stokes

  A selection of Continental Army infantry uniforms to mark the day.  Kind of plain, almost Prussian in appearance, but handsome nonetheless.   S till alive and (barely) kicking here in the Grand Duchy although the hobby mojo has been next to nothing since the late winter-early spring.  Simply pulled in too many directions with work and family.  As I discovered when I went to work in a supermarket at 19, and became a department manager at 20, there simply are not enough hours in a day for everything.  The Eureka Saxon cuirassiers wait patiently nevertheless in a clear acrylic box until a time when I can return to painting and more routine hobby pursuits.   But today is July 4th, more or less the midpoint of Summer here traditionally speaking.  We actually had a unexpected greeting and best wishes from a family friend in Berlin this morning, which was a lovely surprise.  Nothing special planned here beyond an easy day with some light yard work outside in the sun, grilling o

'The Nap at the Palace' by Jose Triado Mayol N ot much in the way of hobby-related activity happening here in the Grand Duchy lately.  Sigh.  And no surprise there really since there are only so many hours in the day, only so much mental and physical energy to spare, and you sometimes simply just have to give in and know when to say, um, "When!"  A glass of wine and/or evening yoga by the hearth with the Grand Duchess (who has practiced for over 20 years), and then off into la-la land.  Zzzzzzzzz.   More immediately, I'm recovering, mentally speaking, from a grueling Friday in which I was involved with three (online) conference sessions, one right after the other, followed by a 90-minute meeting at the end of the day. Also virtual. My brain has been mush ever since, so an easy, completely unproductive Saturday watching intermittent snow fall outside (no accumulation however) and drinking coffee while the visiting handymen completed some repair work down her

    S till limping along here in the Grand Duchy although real life has managed to elbow it's way to the head of the queue these last few months, getting in the way of accomplishing much over at the painting table since the big dusting and clean-up a couple of months back.  But, the 28mm Eureka Saxon Saxon cuirassiers are waiting very patiently in their clear acrylic box on the table for the magical time that I am able to return to them in good conscience. In truth, I have a major review coming up at some point in the early Autumn -- the precise date has yet to be determined -- and have (too) many irons in the fire at the moment as a result.  I will be the first to admit that it's nice to feel needed, but there ought to be/are limits.  In the meantime, I have been updating the ol' portfolio of materials and brainstorming the as-yet-unwritten review of my approach and activities since the last one was drafted. My now emeritus step-father observed to me a year of two ago that

  Two quick progress shots of the first half and a bit more of the 28mm Eureka Saxon cuirassiers.  Still lots to do, but they are beginning to look like something. C ontrary to anything you might have heard, I have not fallen from the edge of the earth, but have been frightfully busy with work-related stuff and a bit of painting lethargy these last couple of months.  Still, little by little the first 16 of 30 Saxon cuirassiers are taking shape, more or less as the  Plötz Cuirassiers , which had lovely green facings and standard. About two weekends back I decided it was time to clean and (re-) organize my painting area, which had become kind of, well, grungy in recent months.  Cobwebs, dead spiders, dust and such.  Blagh! I also put up large pieces of white poster board to bounce and diffuse light from my three painting lamps around the one end of the built-in table/desk area where I have done most of my painting since we moved into our house back in December 2015.  Although it was not

  F or the almost 20 years that she lived in Mexico, one of my late mother's Irish friends frequently mentioned having a "No Day."  A day with no social obligations, chores, tasks, or other work that interfered with whatever personal interests took one's fancy on the day in question. Since today -- a gray and chilly Saturday -- is Mom's birthday, the Grand Duchess is out with friends, and the Young Master is ensconced on the sofa in the TV room with a cold, yours truly is taking his own such No Day.  I think Mom would approve of my decision to make the world go away, as the old Eddie Arnold song intoned, even if only for a little while. So, I will spend Saturday afternoon focused on that first squadron and small regimental staff of Eureka Saxon cuirassiers.  These have stood waiting  untouched over on the painting table for almost three weeks while we skied and otherwise gadded about with snowy, winter outdoor activities. I hope to share a painting update Sunday a