Today the Contesse visited her elderly mother (la Duchesse Veuve de Culdechat, who has graced these pages before) in a seaside town not too far from here, on the way to Ingerland. Alas, the poor old lady is not keeping very well these days; one result of this is that she has a house in this seaside town which she does not get to visit very often. In consequence, today my dear Contesse had to meet with an engineer, who was to service the heating system, and - as ever on these visits - a few oddities came to light, all connected with the strange, twilit world which surrounds houses which are mostly unoccupied.
[At night, they say, the stones do not sit peacefully with one another; the customary laws of Nature only apply sometimes, and grudgingly...]
For a start, it seems that the telephone at Maison Culdechat had not only disconnected itself, but may even have changed its number without outside encouragement. This may seem odd to the casual outsider, but to those of us who are more familiar with this twilit world it is just another example of the sort of thing for which we have to shrug and suspend judgement.
However, today's pièce de résistance (or "fixed impedance" as Marconi would have termed it - and, yes, that's Marconi Cheese) turned out to be a pork pie which had been in the fridge since some time before Christmas, we think. If you have ever wondered what such a thing might look like, here it is...
The Contesse was understandably aghast. With rubber gloves and anti-bacterial cleaner she removed the offensive object. The next twilit snag, of course, is that the Duchesse's dustbin almost never gets emptied, so the normal arrangements for domestic waste disposal in this case would fail to cope with an item of such toxicity. We shall draw a discreet veil over the actual steps which the Contesse took to get rid of it - let us simply say that we trust that Nature will, in fact, look after her own and reclaim the pie in the traditional way.
As a potentially useful byproduct, we may have unintentionally helped a local problem with excessive numbers of marauding seagulls - some herring gull is going to have a mighty sore gut by tomorrow. Or else he may have become resistant to all known viruses.
Napoleonic & ECW wargaming, with a load of old Hooptedoodle on this & that
Wednesday, 15 March 2017
Wednesday, 8 March 2017
Hooptedoodle #253 - One for the Film Buffs
I was looking for old pictures of the area where I live, and - quite by chance - I came across this:
[Good grief, Foy, now what? You cancel the Siege of Newcastle, claim force majeur, and now you're fiddling around with... what, exactly?]
Well, actually, I have to explain that this is a photo of Brigitte Bardot (you probably worked that bit out), but it's taken on the beach behind my house - right here on the farm. This is quite a shock - I've grown used to thinking about General Monck and Robert L Stevenson and a few other notables having been around here, and I can cope with having a previously unknown castle within 600 yards of my house, but I never once thought of Brigitte. Well - not in that context.
It seems that in 1966 she was involved in a film titled A Coeur Joie (released in the US as Two Weeks in September), and this film was shot at a variety of places I know well, including Edinburgh Zoo (apparently), Dirleton and (ta-da!) our own Seacliff Beach, as seen here. These pictures also show her co-star, Laurent Terzieff, and blooming cold they look, September or no.
I was gently intrigued. I had a quick look around for reviews of the film, and to see if it is still available (only, you understand, because I wish to see some shots of our beach...), and found that the film is still available in French, without subtitles. There are some Region 1 editions of the English language version, but clips I've seen on YouTube suggest that the dubbing and reshooting with English dialogue is a thing of major embarrassment. So the French version seems a far better bet. However, reviews I've seen also suggest that this may be among the worst films ever made. Thus I am - how do you say? - put off a bit.
Given a free choice, I would prefer not to watch Brigitte in an embarrassing movie. Not that I am a fan, of course, but because of my love of the art.
Anyone have any views on this minor classic of French cinema? It really doesn't matter - yesterday I didn't even know that a film goddess had once walked among our sandhills, so I can forget all about it quite easily. But, there again...
[Good grief, Foy, now what? You cancel the Siege of Newcastle, claim force majeur, and now you're fiddling around with... what, exactly?]
Well, actually, I have to explain that this is a photo of Brigitte Bardot (you probably worked that bit out), but it's taken on the beach behind my house - right here on the farm. This is quite a shock - I've grown used to thinking about General Monck and Robert L Stevenson and a few other notables having been around here, and I can cope with having a previously unknown castle within 600 yards of my house, but I never once thought of Brigitte. Well - not in that context.
It seems that in 1966 she was involved in a film titled A Coeur Joie (released in the US as Two Weeks in September), and this film was shot at a variety of places I know well, including Edinburgh Zoo (apparently), Dirleton and (ta-da!) our own Seacliff Beach, as seen here. These pictures also show her co-star, Laurent Terzieff, and blooming cold they look, September or no.
I was gently intrigued. I had a quick look around for reviews of the film, and to see if it is still available (only, you understand, because I wish to see some shots of our beach...), and found that the film is still available in French, without subtitles. There are some Region 1 editions of the English language version, but clips I've seen on YouTube suggest that the dubbing and reshooting with English dialogue is a thing of major embarrassment. So the French version seems a far better bet. However, reviews I've seen also suggest that this may be among the worst films ever made. Thus I am - how do you say? - put off a bit.
Given a free choice, I would prefer not to watch Brigitte in an embarrassing movie. Not that I am a fan, of course, but because of my love of the art.
Anyone have any views on this minor classic of French cinema? It really doesn't matter - yesterday I didn't even know that a film goddess had once walked among our sandhills, so I can forget all about it quite easily. But, there again...
Sunday, 5 March 2017
A Pain in the Oxide
This may not be a common problem, but it has been a bit of a nuisance for me, and I may have found an answer.
I use quite a lot of these...
This is a 250ml sample tin of interior housepaint - that's (like) wall paint - from Dulux's excellent colour-mixing service. The hardware shop in our village has the special machine, and sells this stuff - which is a remarkable stroke of luck, as anyone who has seen our village will testify. These sample tins cost just a few quid each, and I use this paint for my (Old School, boring) figure bases and my tabletop and I use lots of shades for scenery and buildings. It's great stuff - cheap enough to slap on or dry-brush, and I've never had problems with it.
Except one - for colours such as the Crested Moss #1 base shade, I use smallish amounts, very frequently - a 250ml can would not look at a complete repaint job for the battleboards, obviously, but it will keep me going for a year-or-more's worth of bases and touch-ups. There is the rub, brothers - the metal lid gradually distorts with repeated opening until it is no longer a good fit, and - worse - the inside of the lid rusts, and flakes of rust contaminate the paint. You can't lift off or just stir in the rust flakes and ignore them - if any rust finishes up near the finished surface you will get a brown stain - don't you worry about that.
Typically, for my most frequently-used colours, I throw away about 40% of a tin. Given how cheap the paint is (by Foundry or Vallejo standards) this is not a big problem, but it certainly is a problem at 4pm on a Sunday when you find you are not able to complete the quick basing session you had hoped to squeeze in before dinner. Not so fast, old boy - it's down to the jolly old village hardware store for you tomorrow.
OK - enough griping. I have thought for a while of transferring some of my more frequently-used Dulux "scenery shades" into plastic pots, and have kept an eye open for such a thing. The Contesse spotted these online - a pack of 5 x 250ml clear plastic pots, with watertight, plastic screw-tops (or 10, or 20 - OCD heaven...) will set me back about a pound each, including postage.
One pound is less than the value of the paint I throw away, and then there's the convenience of being able to see the colour, so I can remember what Spring Breeze #3 looks like without putting a daub on the lid. Also, if I take a bit of care keeping the lid clean, I should do away with the poor seal problem. In a spirit of helpful camaraderie I draw these pots to your attention. If you have been using them for years, please just smile patiently and move on.
I use quite a lot of these...
This is a 250ml sample tin of interior housepaint - that's (like) wall paint - from Dulux's excellent colour-mixing service. The hardware shop in our village has the special machine, and sells this stuff - which is a remarkable stroke of luck, as anyone who has seen our village will testify. These sample tins cost just a few quid each, and I use this paint for my (Old School, boring) figure bases and my tabletop and I use lots of shades for scenery and buildings. It's great stuff - cheap enough to slap on or dry-brush, and I've never had problems with it.
Except one - for colours such as the Crested Moss #1 base shade, I use smallish amounts, very frequently - a 250ml can would not look at a complete repaint job for the battleboards, obviously, but it will keep me going for a year-or-more's worth of bases and touch-ups. There is the rub, brothers - the metal lid gradually distorts with repeated opening until it is no longer a good fit, and - worse - the inside of the lid rusts, and flakes of rust contaminate the paint. You can't lift off or just stir in the rust flakes and ignore them - if any rust finishes up near the finished surface you will get a brown stain - don't you worry about that.
Typically, for my most frequently-used colours, I throw away about 40% of a tin. Given how cheap the paint is (by Foundry or Vallejo standards) this is not a big problem, but it certainly is a problem at 4pm on a Sunday when you find you are not able to complete the quick basing session you had hoped to squeeze in before dinner. Not so fast, old boy - it's down to the jolly old village hardware store for you tomorrow.
OK - enough griping. I have thought for a while of transferring some of my more frequently-used Dulux "scenery shades" into plastic pots, and have kept an eye open for such a thing. The Contesse spotted these online - a pack of 5 x 250ml clear plastic pots, with watertight, plastic screw-tops (or 10, or 20 - OCD heaven...) will set me back about a pound each, including postage.
One pound is less than the value of the paint I throw away, and then there's the convenience of being able to see the colour, so I can remember what Spring Breeze #3 looks like without putting a daub on the lid. Also, if I take a bit of care keeping the lid clean, I should do away with the poor seal problem. In a spirit of helpful camaraderie I draw these pots to your attention. If you have been using them for years, please just smile patiently and move on.
Friday, 3 March 2017
Mixed Fortune on eBay
How about this then? Just happened to see it on eBay, so decided to indulge myself (all right, indulge myself yet again). This is an old cigar box, not awfully glamorous, but the embossed copper lid makes it just the thing to keep my ECW wargame dice and cards in, so I am really rather pleased.
eBay hasn't been working for me recently - I've had a load of books listed for sale, and had hardly any success - eventually the starting prices were so low that I'd rather give them away, so I've put most of them back in the storage boxes until the market picks up again.
One book I did manage to sell was a near-mint copy of the Esposito & Elting Napoleonic Atlas. At the third attempt, I eventually sold it for about £40, which is a snip by any standards, but I regret that it was bought by a London bookshop, who had it on sale in their online shop for over £120 the same day they received it. Oh well.
Anyway - never mind that. Just look at my tacky cigar box - good, eh?
Wednesday, 1 March 2017
ECW: Another Guest Appearance
In the rather awkward intermission following the (temporary) abandonment of my ECW Siege game, I'm delighted to have been rescued - once again - by the bold Steve Cooney, who sent me some more photos - this time of some rather tasty Parliamentarians (if that is not an oxymoron) from his collection.
These chaps are Sir John Gell's Greycoats - 54 Hinton Hunt figures, many of them converted. Thank you Steve - I thought they were well worth sharing here.
Once upon a time, in my software development days, some of our projects scraped along on a wing and a prayer. One of my colleagues was an amateur actor, and we had a standing joke that the show must go on at all costs - if necessary, we reckoned, we should have the juggler standing by to rush on and fill in the gaps - give the punters something to look at. Thus, if the visiting speaker was showing signs of drying up, or the overhead projector packed in, or the promised test network for the prototype demonstration didn't turn up, someone would do the secret mime of a juggler, and the project team would cheer up on the spot.
My thanks to Steve, then, who on this occasion has passed me a set of juggling balls, just in time!
Tuesday, 28 February 2017
Not Quite the Siege of Newcastle 1644 - (4) Stand Down
Best laid plans, and all that.
Unfortunately, a sudden outbreak of Real World means that the (overpublicised?) siege game scheduled for Wednesday has had to be cancelled. Postponed is a nicer word.
It would probably have been more sensible, and certainly less embarrassing, if I had adopted a low-risk approach, kept quiet about the project and simply posted a game report once it had been played, but I never did have much sense. [Oh no - it's been on TMP and everything...]
Anyway - not to worry, I've taken sketches and photos, and I've filed away the documentation so I can set it all up again when opportunity presents itself. I have apologised to the guest generals. Ho hum.
I'll be a little preoccupied for a few days. Look after yourselves until we meet again.
Sunday, 26 February 2017
Not Quite the Siege of Newcastle 1644 - (3) A Moderate Tweak
As discussed in my last post, the real Siege of Newcastle makes an uncomfortable basis for a game, since it was really two separate events with a sort of extended hangover period between. I have now produced a fudged version of the history, which gives a better excuse to stage a proper siege. The scenario is now some weeks earlier than the real event, and the garrison of Newcastle seems to have been augmented by some returning veteran troops who, in complete defiance of accepted history, did not fight to the last man at Marston Moor, but marched off back home at the first opportunity, just squeaking over the bridge into the town before the Scots captured Gateshead and slammed the - erm - gate.
To get round the further issue that the Scots' best strategy appears now to be to wait and starve the town into submission, I've also applied some political and contextual reasons for them to have to get on with taking the place.
I think it will be all right. The game will take place on Wednesday - I shall have one guest general taking the part of the besieged, the other the besiegers, and I shall be the umpire. That may sound nastily as though I will actually play a solo game, with two slaves to help, but I shall take care to ensure it doesn't work like that. The three of us will - collectively - play through our version of the Siege of Newcastle - if it turns out that the town never stood a chance then the process should at least be educational. If it turns out that the rules don't hang together very well then we can agree to patch them on the fly. It's all in an excellent cause. And there will, of course, be some supper.
I've managed to reduce my multiple attempts at siege rules (9 years of false starts, plus numerous manuscript scribbles - some actually jotted down while away on holiday) to a single typed document - well, all right, a mature draft - I still have a little time to check to see if some of the numbers need to be altered to give a balanced game. I have also produced three documents, to set the context for our game. I have one each for the two commanders, telling them what they, personally, need to know, and I have a general preamble, which I shall include here, which sets out the (amended) historical situation in terms which are common knowledge - stuff which can be freely shared.
I'll publish the specific notes for the two commanders, and the OOBs, along with the game report - these chaps are quite crafty enough to check for secrets on my blog...
Here goes - this is the first handout - both commanders get this as a starter.
Preamble
(general knowledge, issued to both commanders)
It is 8am on Monday 3rd October
1644. It is a dreary, cold morning – blustery, with the threat of rain later.
The scene is the area outside the walls on the northern side of Newcastle upon
Tyne, an important coal and commercial centre with a population of about 11,000.
Newcastle has been loyally supportive of King Charles throughout the first two
years of the Civil War. It is a bleak landscape – not enhanced by the presence
of many small, abandoned coal workings and the burned-out ruins of some humble suburbs
that had grown up outside the town’s Newgate and Pilgrim Street Gate, destroyed by the garrison to clear the field of fire from the walls.
The town of Newcastle has had varying
numbers of Scottish Covenanter troops stationed outside it (their HQ is at
Elswick) since they arrived in February, at which time a demand for surrender
of the town was refused. Rather than commit time and effort to a major siege,
the Scots then marched south to Sunderland, leaving a small force to watch Newcastle.
The main objectives of this campaign were always York and the main Royalist
field armies.
Since then the Battle of Marston Moor has
taken place in Yorkshire (2nd July), which was a massive defeat for
the Royalists and in which the Scottish army was heavily involved. Shortly
afterwards the important Royalist city of York surrendered. The King’s
situation in the North is now desperate – with the exception of isolated
garrisons at Pontefract, Carlisle, Durham, Newcastle and a few other places,
there is no prospect of the Royalists re-establishing any significant level of
control, thus their focus is increasingly centred on holding the city of
Chester, which is an important port on the other side of the country and
controls access to North Wales.
The great champion of the King’s cause in
the North, William Cavendish, Marquis of Newcastle, who almost single-handedly
raised and financed the Royalist effort in the North-East, has now gone into
exile in Germany, largely as a consequence of Prince Rupert’s having
successfully shifted the blame for Marston Moor onto his shoulders. He and almost all his
field army are lost to the Royalist effort – a major blow.
The Scottish troops, under Lord Leven, have
now returned to finish the business at Newcastle itself. Apart from its role as
the last major Royalist port in the North-East, Newcastle is an essential
supplier of coal to Parliamentarian London – restoration of the London coal
supply is seen as the main deliverable from capture of the town, and Leven is
now under a lot of political pressure to take the place, and quickly.
The situation in Newcastle is now critical
– though an effort has been made to collect supplies into the town, the arrival
of a fresh Scottish force under the Earl of Callander resulted in the capture
of the town of Gateshead (27th July), on the other end of the only
bridge over the Tyne, and of the fort at
South Shields, at the mouth of the river, so that the town is now cut off from
the outside world for the first time – prior to this, despite a supposed
Parliamentary blockade, some ships had been taking coal to Rotterdam and
Hamburg, and returning with provisions and armaments.
Leven arrived back at Elswick from
Yorkshire on 15th August with his main army – the Scots have now
constructed pontoon bridges across the Tyne both upstream and downstream from
Newcastle, and hold the south bank of the Tyne – the port and castle can now be
fired on from across the river. They have troops and guns all around the town.
There has been an extended exchange of
diplomatic letters between Leven and Sir John Marley, who is both Mayor and
Military Governor of Newcastle. Leven has been urging for speedy surrender, to
avoid unnecessary loss of life (and to protect the coal supply!), and Marley
has deliberately been prevaricating and nitpicking over the protocols under which
terms should be agreed, and about whose fault it will be if bloodshed does
occur. Marley’s obvious aim is to play for as much time as possible, which
seems odd since there is no chance of being rescued by any kind of relieving
force.
Leven is known to be subject to much
criticism in London for what is perceived as a dilatory and otherwise unsatisfactory
showing at Newcastle. There is also a widespread feeling that, after a long and
illustrious military career, he is now too old for the stresses of campaigning
- even his most loyal colleagues fear this may be true. Throughout the
protracted game-playing of Marley’s supposed negotiations for terms of
surrender, Leven has intermittently carried out some limited bombardment of the
town, but it seems to have been more to emphasise his overwhelming advantage
than to destroy the place out of hand.
Leven has a total force of perhaps 20,000
soldiers, stationed on both sides of the Tyne and all around the walls of
Newcastle. The obvious site for batteries to breach the walls is on the ridge
at The Leazes, which faces the medieval town wall between Newgate and Pilgrim Street
Gate. The walls of the town have been repaired, but they are of an archaic
style which predates siege artillery, and there are no earthworks to protect or
support them against roundshot.
Marley’s total force is unknown, but it
cannot be more than a couple of thousand. He has recently sent a couple of
sorties out in the vicinity of the Sandgate (off the table – outside the town
on the riverside, to the east) which went surprisingly well, they caused some
casualties, upset the Scots and took a few prisoners. Scottish morale seems
surprisingly low…
Separate Topic
The Contesse has been sorting out her folders of photos, and she found this rather scary exhibit - I never knew such a picture had been taken, though I shall be on my guard in future. Apparently this was almost exactly three years ago - obviously on a dark and stormy night. In the intervening period, both the sofa and my sweater have gone to the landfill, it seems (you can see why), but the fierce concentration and the Silence of the Lambs magnifying "jeweller's loop" (which I occasionally wear when answering the door, just to frighten the mailman) are still very much in evidence. I had a half-hearted attempt to see if I could work out what I was painting, but didn't get very far.
As you can probably see, one of the difficulties I have in painting is that my nose is too long to allow me to get close enough to the job. As you can also see, one of the advantages of this hobby is that you don't always have to look your best.
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