F1 models - help needed!

Mark is one of the charming vets who look after our animals' health. In his spare time he  builds 1/12 scale F1 models from scratch. They are mainly from the 70s with some from the 60s and some from the 90s and later. He builds them for his own interest, each one representing a year's work from start to finish. They are not working models and are intended for museum display - indeed, he has been invited to display at the world-famous National Motor Museum at Beaulieu in Hampshire, UK.

Image copyright M R Oakley

In the photograph, from top to bottom:

1969 Lotus 49B

1972 McLaren M19C

1975 Hesketh 308 

1974 Ferrari 312B3

Each model is 12" - 14" long (30 -36 cms)

Mark's meticulous approach involves photographing the original machines with permission, drawing his own engineering plans, and ensuring that the model he subsequently produces is as faithful to the original as he can make it. To this end all bodywork is removable so that the engineering can be seen and the underside of each car is carefully replicated. 

By posting this blog I hope to draw attention to some of Mark's requests. If anyone can help or knows someone who could be of assistance I know he would be most appreciative.

1: He is looking for someone able and willing to print a small number of single decal sheets with a large proportion of white, using an Oki printer. The decals are all smaller than approx 30mm to suit a 1/12 scale model racecar subject. The artwork would be supplied, or be drawn up by the same person with use of an Oki printer.

2: He would be able to supply only basic artwork and photos of the desired end product (decal) and would appreciate someone with a drawing program such as Coral Draw or similar, to produce the digital artwork prior to printing on an Oki printer, with draft copy on plain paper for my final assessment before committing to the Oki printed material on the appropriate (Oki style) water-slide medium. Fee to be discussed, hoping to keep this realistic.

3:  He is very keen to see an Hewland TL200 gearbox from a Grand Prix car or Sports Car, in the UK, preferably out of the car on the floor/bench to measure and photograph for a scale model.

4: On an unrelated subject, he is keen to acquire a (spare/no longer wanted) FAI Home security on/off hand held remote control, preferably from the UK.

I shall be posting this in various formats (ie: with different illustrations) throughout the next few weeks in the hope that someone will be able to help.

ABC Wednesday N is for Nippy

As we approach November the weather is increasingly Nippy. Jack Frost Nips at our toes and encourages some people to have a warming Nip of something before venturing out - Not me, especially if I’m driving.  Noses can become Numb with cold and the North wind Nibbles away at clothing, Nipping into Nooks and crannies when people have been Negligent in fastening zips and buttons.

Needless to say, it is Necessary to wrap up warmly, the Nether regions being particularly susceptible to cold. It’s Nice to wear Numerous soft lightweight layers that Negate the Necessity for one heavy garment. Layers can be removed as required for maximum comfort.

Night-time can be testing. In days of old people would wear Nightcaps – a sensible precaution when so much heat was lost through the head. Nowadays people will sometimes have a Nightcap of a different sort – it may be a warming milky beverage or a cold alcoholic one. Nevertheless, if it aids relaxation and a gentle journey into sleep, No-one Need Nit-pick. 


It is Never a good Notion to sleep in too warm a room for Nightmares may ensue and they do Not guarantee a good Night’s sleep and may even lead to a Nervous distrust of the dark. Nonetheless, too cold a room may Neutralise the effects of one’s Night-time Nectar.

Thank you to Denise Nesbitt and her hard-working team who organise and host this weekly meme. Have a look here and you may be inclined to join in!

Today's Flowers #115 - Fly Agaric

This photograph shows several stages, from immature on the left to mature and old in the centre.

Toadstools are often depicted in children’s story books. They are associated with fairies and elves, gnomes and pixies and among the most attractive are the white-spotted bright red fungi known as Fly Agaric (Amanita muscaria)

Here is a developing fungus alongside one that has been partially eaten. I don't know what eats them - something with a strong stomach, obviously, or one specially adapted!

Fly Agaric is found under birch trees or in poor soil around pine trees. It begins its life above ground as a small rocket-shaped fungus but as it develops the cap expands and becomes flatter, measuring as much as six or seven inches. It can grow to a height of ten inches though I’ve yet to see one taller than about seven inches.

As they age the colour changes from vibrant red to orange or yellow. This mature fungus is changing colour.

Amanita muscaria is poisonous, though seldom fatal. It can cause violent intoxication – quite what that means, I’m not sure. Does it mean that the affected person becomes belligerent or just falling down, head-bangingly drunk? Or perhaps it means that the intoxication takes effect immediately with no intermediate tipsiness! Seriously, though, it is not a magic mushroom and should never be ingested. Admire its undoubted beauty but do not consume.

This large specimen has been partially consumed - or destroyed - showing the white gills.

Its common name of Fly Agaric refers to the fact that the caps used to be infused in milk as a way of killing flies. Now I have a vision of a line of flies sitting at a bar being invited to have ‘just one more for the road’ or of a reluctant fly being persuaded to ‘try this new drink’. Perhaps it was placed in a bowl looking alluringly like a flies’ Jacuzzi.

We saw many of these fungi during September and the early part of October but they have mainly disappeared now, although we saw a handful of fresh ones in Swinley Forest today.


Strictly speaking, these are not flowers, but they grow wild and they are beautiful!

To see more flowers, thanks to the Today's Flowers team who work so hard to organise this meme, please click here.

Update on Frodo the Faller

Yesterday’s excitement proved a little too much for Frodo – or maybe it was nothing at all to do with it – but last night he had three fits. They were all mercifully short but disturbed him. He always paces for about ten minutes after he recovers consciousness and seems quite tired today.

We weren’t going to take him out but have decided that fresh air and sniffs will do him good – and the Labradors – and us, of course. Naturally, the sniffs we will enjoy will not be in quite the same league as the ones the dogs appreciate. 

Dogs have an extraordinary sense of smell. They can identify smells one thousand to ten thousand times more accurately than we poor humans. The smell analysis percentage of a dog’s brain is 40 times larger than that of a human’s.

The following table, from ‘Understanding a Dog's Sense of Smell’ by Stanley Coren, PhD and Sarah Hodgson, emphasises the paucity of the human sense of smell compared to that of different breeds of dogs. (The heading seems to suggest that there are different breeds of people, too – and there are some who would not refute that!)

Table: Scent-Detecting Cells in People and Dog Breeds

Species	Number of Scent Receptors
Humans	5 million
Dachshund	125 million
Fox Terrier	147 million
Beagle	225 million
German Shepherd	225 million
Bloodhound	300 million

 

Given these facts it is even more amazing to discover that the canine sense of taste is less well developed than the human’s. The main taste sensations are the same – sweetness, sourness and saltiness – but as dogs wolf down their food without first carefully smelling it as cats do it would seem that the smellier the food is the more eagerly dogs will consume it. This explains why dogs will eat anything they regard as having an attractive aroma – rotting carcases, mouldy food, anti-freeze will all be ingested with gusto.

 I hope Frodo won’t have any more falling down practices in this cluster - we will be watching him closely for the next two or three days. 

The Further Adventures of Frodo the Faller - chicken raw or cooked??

It has been fairly quiet on the Frodo front recently. He continues to guard me against all dangers when we’re walking. ‘All dangers’ to Frodo means any unknown human or dog that approaches within 20 feet. Actually, many of the people he barks at he has been seeing off known for many years. Most of the time we have never known their names so they are referred to generically by the breed of dog they own or by the dog’s name. So, sometimes we see the Wolfhounds – magnificent and very friendly dogs, whose owner also has Norfolk terriers. On other occasions we meet the Pyrenean Mountain dog, (Great Pyrenees in the States) a quiet well-behaved bitch, the collies, Grania the Irish Setter or Spike the Lurcher who was left at our veterinary surgery and was adopted by Phil-the-Vet. Frodo wouldn’t say boo to a goose when he’s examined by any of the vets but has a good old bark when we meet Phil-the-Vet in the forest.

Frodo was very distressed when his old pal Buddy died at home a couple of weeks ago. He had regarded Buddy with awe and great respect and was gentle in his dealings with him, washing his face and nose. He continued to do that until Buddy’s body was removed but in a sense it was a satisfactory conclusion for him and he didn’t keep searching for him as he has done for others who have travelled on.

Today we had a dampish walk in the forest and while the Labradors tirelessly retrieved the ball or the Kong, Frodo was happily retrieving biscuits from the pond. He always goes in for a bathe but today he had to swim, which refreshed him even more than his customary leisurely paddle. Unfortunately, he got water in his ears, which he really hated. He shook himself so hard that his collar unbuckled itself and fell off.

We always make our dogs rest after meals and after exercise. Well, our intentions are good though it’s difficult to see how two or three dogs playing tug of war with a toy can be called resting. When we arrived home the habitual complaints began about empty tummies and starvation. No matter how many times I tell Frodo he must wait for an hour after his walk before he is allowed any food he continues to moan and whine, standing as close to me as possible and shivering with tension. (Is that phrase an oxymoron? Wouldn’t tension obviate shivering?)

Jenna was also hungry and asking for food but her method was subtly different. She sat at my feet, next to the cacophonous Frodo and looked steadfastly and pleadingly at me. Gus, still a callow youth and unsure of the correct protocol, lay on the settee, ears pricked, eyes wide, waiting.

At last, I tripped out to the kitchen. I use that verb advisedly, as I was closely accompanied by the three dogs and Winston, who was now yowling that he too was ravenous. A few minutes later, all animals happily sated, peace returned to the happy home and I decided to go for a swim. Barry, Frodo and Gus came with me and saw me safely into the pool room then went back to the house.

It’s not unusual (I feel a Tom Jones song coming on) to find one or two dogs outside when I’ve finished my swim and Frodo was waiting for me as I stepped onto the path. I patted his head and told him he was a good boy but as I slid open the patio door Barry said, ‘Don’t let him in.’ Frodo looked crestfallen (actually, Dalmatians don’t have crests, unlike the Chinese Crested Dog. This breed has two forms – the hairless and the hairy. The hairless version has soft skin like a human and very little fur on its body apart from tufts known as socks on its paws, and a plume on its tail. The ‘crest’ on its head is not like a bird’s crest but consists of long, flowing locks. The hairy version is known as a Powderpuff)

I thought that perhaps Frodo had been eating something he shouldn’t – he’s partial to the morsels of fat cake that the birds and squirrels so carelessly drop on the ground as well as the mixed seed that they kick off the bird table. It transpired that he had indeed partaken of something forbidden and when I went into the kitchen I saw what he had done.

A few months ago I bought a slow cooker and have been using it recently. On Tuesday I cooked a rather succulent beef casserole – the remains were safely stored in the fridge.  Last night some chicken portions provided a satisfying meal.  Intending to curry the leftovers I had failed to put them out of reach and Frodo had simply helped himself. The shattered remains of the very heavy crock pot that fits inside the slow cooker body now covered the floor. I understand now – too late – that I should have photographed the interesting contrast of black pottery and creamy chicken and vegetables. So Frodo’s allowance will now go towards a new crock pot – I’m joking, he doesn’t receive an allowance apart from that which enables him to get away with minor misdemeanours.

Barry said he was very quick in stealing the chicken. I realise now that the raw chicken he had for his supper – Frodo, that is, not Barry! – and which he thoroughly enjoyed, was not sufficient or perhaps he was telling me that he’d prefer his food cooked in future. It was amusing when we eventually let him back indoors and followed his rather nervous trek into the kitchen. I’m sure I heard him say, ‘Well, you could knock me down with a feather. I could have sworn I’d left some tasty titbits here.’

Fooled you, Frodo, you naughty boy!

Magpie Tales #36 When is a door not a door? When it’s ajar!

Francis gazed groggily at the door. He had not expected it to be open. Hurtling down the stairs and skidding across the polished tiles he had crashed into the unforgiving wood. The pain that exploded in his head and shoulder soon gave way to a dull persistent throbbing. There would be plentiful tender bruises later, not that anyone would see them.

Francis sat down, then stretched full length on the floor. The marble was cool and comforting and he began to feel his body relaxing. A little sleep would help, he was sure, and then he would continue the day’s tasks. Just as his eyes were closing and his muscles were starting the twitching journey to slumber he heard Lucy calling his name.

‘Francis, what have you done, you silly boy?’ she was saying as she approached him. ‘I heard you colliding with the door. You really should look where you’re going. I shall have to stop you playing indoors if you can’t be more careful.’

Though her words sounded reproachful her tone was gentle and loving. Francis looked up at her, his eyes pleading for understanding. Unable to speak, he was nonetheless able to convey his meaning.

Lucy smiled at him and patted his head. ‘Come on, then,’ she said, ‘Let’s go for a walk.’

All pain forgotten now, Francis wagged his tail and nibbled her fingers gently and together the two of them went out into the green and golden day.

Thank you to Willow from Magpie Tales who hosts this weekly prompt.

Friday 55 Flash Fiction

‘I’ll put the rubbish out,’ he said. ‘I’ll just be a minute’ and with that he disappeared for half an hour. When he came downstairs again he headed for the front door.

 I said nothing, just waited. He returned, looking rather sheepish. ‘I see you’ve already done it.’

Time and rubbish wait for no man!


Friday Flash 55 is hosted by Mr Knowitall  

SkyWatch Friday - October late afternoon

Late afternoon in the forest on a beautifully warm October day

Thank you, SkyWatch team.

Anipal Photo Hunt #9: Compromising Positions

When Monty was a kitten his health was compromised by osteomyelitis and his activities were compromised by his Elizabethan collar

Later on he conducted his fair share of compromising his canine companions. Here he is lording it over Frodo. Sadly, Monty's life was very short and he died from congestive heart failure earlier this year. He was three years old. 
Click here for more Anipal compromises!

Yesterday’s walk - Gus grows up and a small tragedy

Gus carries the Air Kong

Gus is 13½ months old now and growing into quite a big boy. He learns very quickly and is a wonderful retriever, always keeping his eye on the ball or the Air Kong. He is as fast over ground as Jenna and nearly as speedy as her in the water but there is one area in which he has taken time to mature. All our other dogs cocked their legs the day they turned six months old but Gus was content to continue discreetly squatting, like Jenna, until yesterday, when he cocked his leg for the very first time. We felt that our little boy had come of age!

Two dogs, one Kong and Jenna, on the right, wins the prize.

Gus is intent on taking part in the 2012 Olympics and has been practising hard for the Long Jump event. So far he has only practised over water and still has to perfect his landing. At the moment his tail ruins any chance of breaking a record, I’m afraid.

Like all good athletes Gus mentally rehearses his jump

 Like a tightly coiled spring he is ready to leap forward

 

Uncoiled and almost airborne

 Flying!

Preparing for touchdown - the tail is going to spoil the jump!

As we returned from the practice arena, otherwise known as the forest, we noticed a sad little corpse. It was not there when we set out and we could see no cause of death. 

We are sure this adult had only recently met its death as the scavengers had not yet started their grisly work.

Normally we only see dead squirrels  on the roads – we have never found one in the garden and it’s rare to see a corpse in the forest. The last time we saw one was  a few years ago when Frodo was quite young. In fact, he found it and gently picked it up and brought it to me. He didn’t notice this one.

ABC Wednesday - M is for Marbles

Image courtesy of Wikimdia Commons

When my father was a little boy the tops of bottles were stopped with glass spheres which were enthusiastically collected. These marbles were treasures.

When I checked to make sure I hadn’t dreamt up this anecdote – my father sadly no longer being available to quiz on the matter, I discovered a whole world and fascinating history of marbles.

It is believed that cave people played games of marbles with small pebbles or balls of clay. Ancient Egyptian tombs have disclosed similar clay marbles as have Native American burial grounds and the Aztec pyramids. Examples from Rome and ancient Egypt can be seen at the British Museum and probably other museums around the world.  (I’m a Brit, so inclined to be somewhat parochial!)

Marbles may also have been made from wood or flint.

I learned that there are often references to marbles in Roman literature and that it is likely that the Romans introduced marbles to the far-flung countries of their empire. Following this, marbles were made of stone or occasionally real marble. Glass marbles were made in Venice and about 1800 marbles made of china were introduced.

However, when a German glassblower invented ‘marble scissors’ in 1846 the manufacture of marbles accelerated. Marble scissors resembled a pair of sugar tongs with a cup on one arm and a cutting implement on the other.  A molten glass rod would be placed in the cup which would be twisted to create the sphere. Shutting the tongs would slice off the rest of the glass. The spheres would then be cooled in water. There was a great variety of colours and patterns. Such marbles were increasingly popular throughout Europe and America.

There are many annual marbles tournaments nationally and internationally but for me marbles remain an entrancing tactile and visual joy. Our children and grandchildren have enjoyed playing and collecting marbles. Who could fail to be fascinated by these kaleidoscopes of colour and perfect form?

Thanks go to Marvellous Denise Nesbitt and her Merry Men and woMen who Meticulously Monitor this weekly Meme. Click here to see more Ms. 

My World Tuesday - Hunter Gatherers

Orange Peel Fungus (Aleuria (Peziza) aurantia)

This grows on open ground in woods and is very common in autumn. It starts as very small  cups, looking flat, but grows to 3-4" across. It is edible.

From August to November walking with the dogs in the woodlands takes on a new aspect. Silent figures in ones or twos may be observed, causing warning barks or excited approaches, depending on the character of the dogs. The objects of their interest walk quietly among the trees, eyes cast down, frequently stooping to gather something from the rich soil. Such persons may emerge suddenly from the cover of the woods, holding plastic bags weighed down with their booty. Occasionally, they carry shallow baskets. These folk are the mushroom seekers, the amateur but very knowledgeable mycologists, for at this time of year the earth gives up an abundance of toadstools. Though fungi grow throughout the year they are most noticeable in late summer and early autumn.

I think this is Brown Birch Boletus (Boletus scaber) - but I could be wrong!!

It is quite common in summer and autumn in woods around birch trees.  The caps are edible and good to eat but the stalks are rather tough.

English people have little folklore about mushrooms and many of the tests to decide which ones are edible and which poisonous are not to be trusted. They may well grow in grass or not blacken a silver spoon but these are dangerously ill-informed methods for testing the toxicity or otherwise of them.

In Europe the knowledge is deeply ingrained, with France having perhaps the greatest interest and understanding. Until the Second World War Englishmen were very suspicious of wild mushrooms but learnt much from immigrant Poles and other Europeans who taught them that some toadstools can be delicious. Others, though edible, are so bland as to be not worth eating. The most prized fungi of all, the truffles, do not generally grow in UK, but when they do they are mostly found under beech trees. In France they usually grow under evergreen oaks. Specially trained pigs or dogs are used to sniff out the wondrous treats that develop underground, often at a depth of a foot or more.  Since the war, interest in UK has grown to the extent that there is growing concern because mushrooms are very important in maintaining moisture in the soil and providing a source of water for trees. In times of extended periods of dry weather or drought such water caches are invaluable.

Just as scavenging birds and beasts keep our world largely free of decaying carcases so fungi perform a similarly significant service. Indeed, they have been described as ‘the great scavengers of the vegetable kingdom.’ (‘Wayside and Woodland Fungi’, W.P.K. Findlay D.Sc., F.I.Biol., F.I.W.Sc)

Trametes (formerly Coriolus) versicolor, commonly called Turkey Tail in USA

This is very common on fallen branches and trunks. It is a medicinal mushroom in China and used in China and Japan as an immunoadjuvant therapy in the treatment of cancer.

Together with bacteria they break down organic detritus - without them the world would be cluttered with dead trees, fallen branches and deep, deep leaf drifts. The enzymes they produce liquefy the wood of trees and the soft tissues of leaves and fruits to provide nourishment for the fungi. Anything that is not consumed forms rich humus on the forest floor and acts as a sponge to retain moisture. Some fungi are adapted to decomposing hoof and hair remains of animals.

Fungi are a source of food, drugs, poisons and diseases. They cause most of the serious plant ailments and some that are troublesome to man and animal, like ringworm. Every gardener who maintains a compost heap owes its success in part to moulds as well as bacteria and worms.

If you should feel inclined to eat wild fungi please don’t rely on identification through illustrations. Toxic and non-toxic mushrooms can look remarkably similar and a simple mistake can lead at best to several hours’ discomfort and at worst to an agonising death. Take advice from a knowledgeable mycologist and if in doubt, DON’T!

Thank you to the My World team for organising this meme.

ABC Wednesday L is for Laughter, Life and Love

Laughter, Life and Love - these are three words without which we could not, should not live (especially the second)

Are they intertwined, mutually dependent? I thought long and hard superficially about this as I attempted to sleep last night. The thinking wore me out bored me so I soon fell asleep.

I wonder whether I could spend any appreciable time with a humourless person. I haven’t met many who belong in this category though several have fitted the ‘takes him/herself too seriously’ set but then what makes me laugh may leave other people cold and vice versa. When others are rolling in the aisles chortling at slapstick or practical jokes my face is stony so then I’m the one without a sense of humour. I do know that the people with whom I spend most of my time – my family – frequently have me gasping for air as I giggle inanely at something one of them has said or done. Unfortunately, once I start guffawing I find it very hard to stop even though my face is wet with tears and my sides are aching and I’m attracting attention from strangers. I know that sharing my life with someone lacking a sense of humour, of the ridiculous, would be impossible for me.

It’s generally agreed that I’m quiet a misery in the mornings. I am either silent or aggressively monosyllabic. I couldn’t live with someone like me! On the extremely rare occasions that I start the morning in light-hearted mood I can guarantee that the day will not end well but when I’m in a bad mood Barry makes me laugh in spite of myself. He laughs a lot which belies his serious, deep-thinking character.

Life – of course we can’t live without it but the life I mean is enthusiasm, interest in others, a desire need to learn new things and different skills, to experience and try to understand what makes other people the characters personalities they are. Living in a rut is safe but the world is full of surprises and by that I don’t mean that travel is essential. To some people, of course, it is, but travel means little when interests may encompass space and deep sea, the inner workings of microbes or the deep resonant singing of a Russian basso profondo.

Love – it makes the world go round, apparently! There are many different aspects to love. Self-love is the most destructive and equally love or faith that becomes fanatical is dangerous. The Prophet Mohammed said, ‘Beware of extremism in religion; for it was extremism in religion that destroyed those who went before you.’

We love our family and our friends and also our pets, but we profess to love inanimate objects too and nature. Maybe it’s a different kind of love in each case but it fulfils a need in us and makes us feel happier. If we are happy we interact more kindly with each other. If we can make others happy there is at least a double benefit. Marcel Proust wrote, ‘Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls bloom.’

Finally, (‘At last’, you sigh, if you’re still reading this! And if you are, thank you!) Laughter, Life and Love need expression in activity, in play.

Friedrich Nietzsche – ‘In every real man a child is hidden that wants to play.’ Amen to that and long may it be so.

Laud and thanksgiving to the Lovely Denise Nesbitt and her Loveably Loyal Lads and Lasses who organise and host this sometimes Loquacious meme. To see more Ls on earth, please click here.