Sunday, August 26, 2007

Birthday Boy

Grumpy Old men

Yes, today I am 35. I am now officially eligible to join the age segment of Grumpy Old Men. This group, so it has been scientifically established, occurs at the age of 35 with the realisation that you are no longer young and all there is to look forward to is the mortgage payments, divorce, the kid’s university fees and a general loss of vitality. Also, in Gay years, that makes me around 70.

Grumpy Old Men: Holtzendorff and L'Estocq

People who have known me a long time are well aware that in fact this is the moment my life has been building up to. Middle Aged at 18 I was only waiting for time to catch up. People, rather oddly in my view, seem to be committed to convincing me I am still ‘young’ somehow. I regard this as somehow futile and in denial of the facts. Now I can justifiably moan about hoodies, loud music and reminisce about snowy winters and sunny summers. In other words begin to take refuge in the past. Soon I will be reading the Daily Mail with its promises of a better yesterday and start blaming everything on asylum seekers.

IR3 'Erzherzog Karl'

The next big sea-change, apparently, is at 55, with the realisation that it is only ten years or less to retirement and the mortgage will be paid off, the kids are out of your hair (at last) and you can actually enjoy yourself as the other half has got heartily sick of you and will do anything to encourage you to get out from underfoot. Roll on…


Otherwise nothing much to report on the painting front; I have finished Regiment ‘Diesbach’ but I am waiting for the flags I ordered to arrive from Vaubanner before taking more pictures. I have also managed to complete the last half dozen Austrian Uhlans from UlR2. The next batch to get started is eight more Catalan light infantry to finish the unit I did last week.

UlR2 'Schwarzenberg' in line

The Finns are not going well. Five days to go and no bids, with only three watchers. Maybe they are overpriced? I suspect, though, that they are too esoteric as most WW2 wargamers want to play late war with bags of armour. The Finns, allowed nothing heavier than a StuG III is hardly in that league.

I have been doing a bit more thinking about my Fictitious Wars campaign. This has been going on-and-off for ages, since I left University in fact. I am thinking about abandoning the 20mm plastic route and going for the 10mm Pendraken range and start the whole thing all over again. But this is part of my weakness, the inability to concentrate on one thing. I found myself today looking longingly at my 15mm Marlburian stuff as well…

Next on this blog I guess I must get round to looking at the Eylau refight of earlier this year. It will take a certain amount of self-flagellation to do so, of course, but I think it is time.


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