Delusions of Grandeur Perhaps?

 

Part of Peter Gilder's famed Waterloo set-up with the Chateau Hougoumont in the foreground.  An image familiar to many of you no doubt!

 

Apropos of nothing, it has been quite a while since I had a model soldier dream.  However, last night came very close in that I had a making-terrain-for-model-soldiers dream.  In said dream, I starred in the role of, if not the late Messrs. Peter Gilder and Ian Weekley, then at the very least a master terrain modeler.  

The layout wasn't Waterloo, but there were already some units -- It wasn't clear if these were my own, 18th century, Napoleonic, or another sub-period of the horse and musket era. -- scattered around the large tabletop, which had realistic and convincing undulation, buildings, and some copses already in place.  I was simply finishing things up on parts of the large board that were not quite done to my liking.  

Dusting with Woodland Scenics materials here and there you understand.  Spraying with fixative scenic cement.  Adding rough ground cover, a few tree stumps, wild shrubs, hedgerows, and minor water features.  Etc. etc.  As I worked in the dream, I was explaining my methods and approach to a small group assembled nearby in whatever room we occupied.  It wasn't my usual space here in Zum Stollenkeller.  That much I can report with a fair degree of certainty.

Regardless, I suppose this dream has come about as a result of the many model train layout how-to videos that I occasionally binge on via Youtube.  You can waste a startling amount of time doing that.  The various updates and how-to pieces are by mostly British hobbyists, but there are a few very talented Australian and U.S. modelers in the regular mix too.  And, oddly, an architect way up in New England along the Canadian border, who now and then shares a video of his work on conceptual models.  All fascinating stuff.  

So, although there are no games on the horizon this Christmas period due to domestic life (Trouble and strife anyone?), one can always think, or in this case dream, about setting things up across a large table and moving the lead around in more care-fee times.  Sigh.  

We are, however, planning a skiing trip to Lower Ontario just after Christmas and into the New Year.  Our destination is a premier Nordic skiing center called Stokely Creek Lodge.  The Grand Duchess and I are looking very forward to it.  Hopefully, the 14-year-old Young Master will join us on the trails for a day or two although the jury remains out on that.  He is a solidly intermediate skier by this time -- We've had Paul on skis since he was four. -- and he handles winding descents with aplomb on good days.  

In any case, I've got a few pairs of skis to wax, scrape, brush down, and polish up during the next week.  A happy, albeit alternate pursuit even if the toy soldiers mush remain safely in their plastic storage tubs this Christmas period.  There may also be some time to apply basic fleshtone and horseflesh to the first squadron of Eureka Saxon cuirassiers, which I base-coated last weekend.  Huzzah!

-- Stokes 

 

Not one of my photographs, but a royalty-free image from Pexels.com.  The nature and trails looked very like this, however, many years ago when I lived just outside of Trondheim, Norway where I learned how to ski.  Admittedly in a very clumsy way, but the breathtaking scenery as I made my way along various trails, which were illuminated until after 10pm each evening, made the occasional stumbles and falls worth it.  Still not an expert, but I'm better now.  Skiing at dusk and at night remain my favorite times of day to indulge, but I'll happily clip into the bindings and enjoy an outing anytime the opportunity and snow present themselves.  No idea if it is due to Neanderthal or Viking DNA somewhere in my genetic make-up, but I feel my absolute physical and mental best at the midwinter during a ski tour.  There is nothing quite like it.