Shiny, Shiny, Shiny Cuirassiers. . .

 

Still must touch up the edges of the green bases, hit the places most likely to be touched with another spot of the Liquitex acrylic high gloss varnish (suggested to me years ago in a surprise email from Mike Siggins), and retouch one of the officers' chin and right cheek, but we're just about there with these 16 figures and horses.  

Not my best work, admittedly, but they'll do nicely at arm's length.  Although I don't think the likes of Doug Mason and Phil Robinson have anything to worry about.  ;-)  When I return to the second batch of 14 Saxon cuirassiers, the facing color will be different, and I'll vary the color of the narrower right shoulder strap, opting for a leathery brown.  Might actually use a Saxon standard for those too, but we'll see when we get there. 

Time now to move on to the 15 Croats lurking in the background.  That will probably have to wait until next week since most of my spare time this week will be spent preparing everyone's gear for our extended ski weekend getaway January 17th-20th.  The escape has become an annual event for my family since the Young Master grew big enough and became a strong enough skier to handle actual groomed trails, which are in many instances quite a bit more challenging that, say, a local park or deserted golf course in the off season.  

We made the first trip during January 2022 following the height of the pandemic although most in the ski shops at the two centers we visited were still wearing masks.  Unusually given the, shall we say, political mindset of the region in question.  But it's beautiful country any time of year in Northern Michigan, and the winters in particular are spectacular most years for those of us into snow sports.  

In any case, Young Paul is really something to behold climbing and descending quite challenging hills and has fallen only once that I have seen in the four years we have made the winter sojourn to Northern Michigan.  Ol' Dad, on the other hand, invariably has a couple of spectacular faceplants during the weekend, usually in the same few places at our favorite Nordic center, and much to my son's amusement. 

Still, you never know.  I might manage to avoid any Eddie the Eagle or Jamaican bobsled team moments this time around.  And hey, even one of our certified PSIA instructors wiped out last year, during an intermediate lesson no less.  Occasional spills go with the territory, but it's all part of the winter fun.  

My personal best was many years ago, pre-child, when the Grand Duchess and I were skiing outside of Ironwood, Michigan at ABR Trails. I failed to navigate an abrupt left turn along a trail in a large open meadow, although I could see it coming, and flew headfirst into about three feet of soft, ungroomed snow next to the groomed trail.  The Grand Duchess had to unclip from her skis to help me get get untangled and back on my feet before we could continue the tour.  How I didn't lose my glasses in the spill, I still don't know.  

But, you pick yourself up, brush off the snow, and continue on your way.  There's a life lesson in there somewhere for all of us I think.

-- Stokes