Sunday, 12 July 2009

A path well trodden...

Another Sunday and another post on the blog. I have had a week of this and that and in amongst things I have traveled to England, got the keys for a new house and even managed to slap a bit of paint on my Interpol troops:

Click the Pic!

As you can tell from the pic, they are far from finished but they have progressed quite a bit since the last pic.

I am currently in crisis. I have been getting completely obsessed with Armoured Troopers Votoms lately and it just won't go away. It is getting to a point where I will HAVE to get hold of a 1/60 scale Scopedog kit or I will go completely mad (well...madder than I am now...if that is possible!).

I have a plan, you see...

...rank upon rank of piloted robot suits with transport vehicles, technical back up and a few defensive troops (just to protect the suits when they are not being driven).

The only problem is that even if I manage to get hold of one of the long out of production (OOP) kits, I won't be able to get hold of enough to satisfy my obsession so that means I have to use the kit as inspiration, build my own out of plasticard and green-stuff and then get to casting them up (something that I have never attempted)...I guess we shall see where that takes me (and whether anything comes to fruition...). Obviously, they will be Grymn based...

On another note, I bought a book of poems to keep me busy whilst waiting for my plane at the airport. I must have got some funny looks because I laughed out loud on a few occasions while I was reading.

With great sadness and in memorium, I will now re-produce one of the poems to remember those British soldiers who have recently died, with honour and distinction, in Afghanistan.

The Soldier
If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever Britain. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
a dust whom Britain bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of Britain's, breathing British air,
Washed by the rivers, blessed by sons of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by Britain given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under a British heaven.

I have changed 'England' to 'Britain' in order to reflect the fact that Welsh, Scotish and N.Irish soldiers are serving in afghanistan...and some are amongst those who have fallen.

This is the only poem that I know of, that completely sums up how I feel about the situation.

May they rest in peace.

See you on the dark side.

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