Thoughtful Thursday - Respect the Build

 

Ballantine's at Wethersfield, CT - Prototype scene with a freelance reefer (& sky added)

(Incidentally, I thought I already had a category called "Thoughtful Thursday" - but the closest I have is something called "Philosophy" which doesn't quite fit... So I guess this is the first in a series of "Trains of Thought" type posts. . .

Also - and not incidentally - I want to thank you all for your patience as I try and get this here blog back up and running regularly...)

* * *

“Respect the Build”

In the car enthusiast community, this phrase is shorthand for respecting and accepting someone’s enthusiasm and passion for what they’ve done with their car beyond stock, no matter what. Of course, there are some builds that are more impressive than others and some that cause others to shake their heads in disbelief or subtle derision, but the phrase is part of the mortar that keeps the car community together. If you’re excited about cars, you’re part of the community.

I think model railroaders can learn a bit from this attitude. As long as you’re excited about Model Trains, you’re part of the community… But admittedly, there are a number of different sub parts of this community just as there are in the car community (muscle cars, sports cars, low riders, rat rods, etc), but the passion and enthusiasm that we have ought to transcend any apparent differences, even if a particular approach isn’t exactly our cup of tea…

Case in point – operations. For some, like me, it’s all about coming as close to an historical reenactment as possible since that’s my goal and the story I want to tell. For somebody else, the trains may be incidental to the live action role-play (LARP) that they enjoy when operating. For others, it’s a game (even a “card” game) or a puzzle to be solved. After a long stressful day at work, you may just want to move freight cars around randomly…

The cool thing is that model railroad operations isn’t just one thing but can actually be ALL of these things. That’s part of the greatness of this hobby - no matter how you approach operations, or for that matter, no matter how you approach the hobby itself, either from your interest in art, sculpture, history, electronics, building, architecture,… well, you get the idea... the greatness of model railroading is in the many ways different ways you can enjoy it and still be part of it.

“My Railroad, My Rules” is certainly an effective defense of whatever you’re doing in the hobby that brings you joy… But in my mind, it’s unnecessarily defensive. “Respect the Build” encourages all of us to acknowledge the passion and joy that others derive - and provide to the rest of us - just by participating in this great hobby.

Throwback Thursday - On Giving Thanks and Making Trees

  

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

You've likely heard - and perhaps even participated - in the debate of whether model railroading is art. But have you ever thought of it as worship or contemplation?

After being sick the past couple of weeks, I woke up recently feeling much better and noticed the beautiful sunrise from my back deck. The mood was enhanced by some nice seasonal music playing in the background (do yourself a favor and check out this song in particular). I couldn't help but try and capture it in the photograph above and the scene reminded me of the poem by Joyce Kilmer - " . . . only God can make a tree."

I think any time we engage in any creative endeavor, whether it be music, painting, dance, sculpture, or any of the arts - any time we create something for the purity of it itself - we are affirming our innate humanness and participating with God in Creation. While we can never be God, I believe our creative endeavors are reflections of the Imago Dei in our lives.

In this respect, our attempts at creating miniature worlds are echoes of our true identity as humans. We are born creators and while our attempts can never be any more than a mere reflections of the real world, I believe that the process of creating that world can itself be a contemplative exercise, affirming our humanity and providing an oasis in the midst of troubling times.

Is it any wonder, then, that a creative hobby can be so calming and restorative? And I think doing it can sometimes be an act of thanksgiving, thanking our Creator for the privilege of being able to participate in creation, in even a small way.

I've spent the past couple of Sunday afternoons dipping my toe in the deep end of this pool, trying my best to make some trees . . .

I started with armatures from Scenic Express, separating them into separate "trees" and spray painting them a medium gray color. When I was young, I always colored trees brown - but, turns out, they're often mostly shades of gray.

While the instructions recommend soaking the armatures in matte medium, I'm following the path many others have taken and am using hairspray (the cheapest, firmest hold you can get) to affix the "leaves" (various colors of flocking) to the armatures. I heavily spray the armature, then sprinkle the flocking over an old pie pan, which I then use to pour the excess flocking back into the container it came from.

It's a slow process - it took me an entire afternoon to do the trees you see above - but hopefully I'll get faster with practice.

But the results are definitely worth the time.

That's another thing I'm learning as I do more scenery on the layout: the time it takes often results in a better product, and the process itself can put you in a better, calmer, more contemplative frame of mind.

This Thanksgiving season, I hope you'll have a little extra time to spend working on your layouts - or doing whatever hobby you're in the mood for. And if you do, I hope you'll reflect on how blessed we are that, no matter what our level of skill or ability, we're able to create something that can bring us joy and maybe even a little peace.

From our home to yours, we wish you, your families and friends, a blessed Thanksgiving and holiday season.

(While this post was first published Thanksgiving, 2022 I think it fitting to repost in keeping with the spirit of the season, and to remind me to keep things in their proper perspective, being truly grateful for all my many blessings despite all that's going on in the world around us. I hope it helps you too during these difficult times.)

Labor Day Weekend - 77 Years Ago TODAY!...

   

I'm told it was 77 years ago today - the Friday of Labor Day Weekend, September 3, 1948 - when an 8 year old little boy went down to the Old Saybrook station platform to watch trains. The sun was going down - it'd be totally set within a few minutes - and in the gathering dusk a dull roar like thunder could be heard . . .

Looking eastward down the tracks, toward the gathering darkness, the sound seemed to get closer and he could just start to make out what looked like a plume of smoke - or maybe it was two? That didn't make sense. Almost all of the trains on the Shore Line were dieselized now, but, as loud as a pair of back-to-back DL-109s are, they sure don't sound like this . . .

It was the glimmer on the rails, lighting up the curve in the far distance, that was the first giveaway that a train was for-sure coming. Of course, the little boy knew a train was due. He'd been into trains for as long as he could remember and he knew how to read a timetable.

He knew that the approaching train had just crossed the Connecticut River and was accelerating hard off the bridge. It sure sounded like it - and the distinctive bark meant this train had to have a steam locomotive on the point. And with it being a little past 7pm, that meant it had to be The Merchant's Limited.

But was it early? The Merchants wasn't due through Saybrook until 7:17 . . . but just then, the train came blasting around the distant curve - exhaust roaring and headlight blazing! Before he could fully comprehend it all, The Advance Merchants Limited flew by at 65 miles an hour behind not one, but TWO! I-4 Pacifics with 23 heavyweight parlor cars on their tail.

In the rush of the passing train, little John Pryke could just make out the glow of two fireboxes and just as quickly as it had come, it was gone again with the tail sign receding quickly toward the sunset.

As the dust settled and the thunder of the Merchants' passing began to fade, the impression of the sight seared itself into the little boy's memory, and sparked a passion for the New Haven Railroad that would last the rest of his life and spur him into recreating this memory in miniature, someday.

* * * * * * * *

I try to relate this story at or at least near the anniversary of this event, which is all - mostly - verified as true. Especially since it not only inspired John to a life-long love of the New Haven RR, but - indirectly - influenced my choice not only of prototype, but of era and locale. John often mentioned visiting his grandparents in Old Saybrook and going with them down to the station to watch the trains go by. And he remembers seeing the double-headed, steam-powered Advance Merchant's Limited the Friday evening of Labor Day Weekend, 1948. It was this event, more than anything else, that he always pointed to as the inspiration for getting into model railroading and trying to recreate the New Haven in HO scale.

In fact, all of John's layouts - all featured at one time or another in books or the pages of Model Railroader - were firmly set in space and time: Southern New England's New Haven Railroad was the space, and the time could only ever be "September, 1948."

Now, almost twelve years after John's passing, I'm closer than ever to being able to recreate this memory in miniature. I have the Old Saybrook station scene as a highlight on my layout and, while I don't mind varying my chosen era within the narrow confines of "1947-1949," for all intents and purposes I'm modeling the Autumn of 1948.

I think - and hope - John would be proud of the effort. And I know he'd get a kick out of seeing a little HO scale version of his 8 year old self on the Saybrook station platform, waiting for another train to go by . . .

* This post originally appeared 9/27/2018, 70 years to the month since the event took place. I've reposted it not only to commemorate such an important time in John's life, but to remind myself that preserving these memories is one of the reasons for embarking on this project in the first place.

In Lieu of Wordless Wednesday: Throwback Thursday Eve - On Giving Thanks and Making Trees

 

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

You've likely heard - and perhaps even participated - in the debate of whether model railroading is art. But have you ever thought of it as worship or contemplation?

After being sick the past couple of weeks, I woke up recently feeling much better and noticed the beautiful sunrise from my back deck. The mood was enhanced by some nice seasonal music playing in the background (do yourself a favor and check out this song in particular). I couldn't help but try and capture it in the photograph above and the scene reminded me of the poem by Joyce Kilmer - " . . . only God can make a tree."

I think any time we engage in any creative endeavor, whether it be music, painting, dance, sculpture, or any of the arts - any time we create something for the purity of it itself - we are affirming our innate humanness and participating with God in Creation. While we can never be God, I believe our creative endeavors are reflections of the Imago Dei in our lives.

In this respect, our attempts at creating miniature worlds are echoes of our true identity as humans. We are born creators and while our attempts can never be any more than a mere reflections of the real world, I believe that the process of creating that world can itself be a contemplative exercise, affirming our humanity and providing an oasis in the midst of troubling times.

Is it any wonder, then, that a creative hobby can be so calming and restorative? And I think doing it can sometimes be an act of thanksgiving, thanking our Creator for the privilege of being able to participate in creation, in even a small way.

I've spent the past couple of Sunday afternoons dipping my toe in the deep end of this pool, trying my best to make some trees . . .

I started with armatures from Scenic Express, separating them into separate "trees" and spray painting them a medium gray color. When I was young, I always colored trees brown - but, turns out, they're often mostly shades of gray.

While the instructions recommend soaking the armatures in matte medium, I'm following the path many others have taken and am using hairspray (the cheapest, firmest hold you can get) to affix the "leaves" (various colors of flocking) to the armatures. I heavily spray the armature, then sprinkle the flocking over an old pie pan, which I then use to pour the excess flocking back into the container it came from.

It's a slow process - it took me an entire afternoon to do the trees you see above - but hopefully I'll get faster with practice.

But the results are definitely worth the time.

That's another thing I'm learning as I do more scenery on the layout: the time it takes often results in a better product, and the process itself can put you in a better, calmer, more contemplative frame of mind.

This Thanksgiving season, I hope you'll have a little extra time to spend working on your layouts - or doing whatever hobby you're in the mood for. And if you do, I hope you'll reflect on how blessed we are that, no matter what our level of skill or ability, we're able to create something that can bring us joy and maybe even a little peace.

From our home to yours, we wish you, your families and friends, a blessed Thanksgiving and holiday season.

(While this post was first published Thanksgiving, 2022 I think it fitting to repost in keeping with the spirit of the season, and to remind me to keep things in their proper perspective, being truly grateful for all my many blessings despite all that's going on in the world around us. I hope it helps you too during these difficult times.)

Labor Day Weekend - 76 Years Ago...

  

I'm told it was 76 years ago this past Friday - the Friday of Labor Day Weekend, September 3, 1948 - when an 8 year old little boy went down to the Old Saybrook station platform to watch trains. The sun was going down - it'd be totally set within a few minutes - and in the gathering dusk a dull roar like thunder could be heard . . .

Looking eastward down the tracks, toward the gathering darkness, the sound seemed to get closer and he could just start to make out what looked like a plume of smoke - or maybe it was two? That didn't make sense. Almost all of the trains on the Shore Line were dieselized now, but, as loud as a pair of back-to-back DL-109s are, they sure don't sound like this . . .

It was the glimmer on the rails, lighting up the curve in the far distance, that was the first giveaway that a train was for-sure coming. Of course, the little boy knew a train was due. He'd been into trains for as long as he could remember and he knew how to read a timetable.

He knew that the approaching train had just crossed the Connecticut River and was accelerating hard off the bridge. It sure sounded like it - and the distinctive bark meant this train had to have a steam locomotive on the point. And with it being a little past 7pm, that meant it had to be The Merchant's Limited.

But was it early? The Merchants wasn't due through Saybrook until 7:17 . . . but just then, the train came blasting around the distant curve - exhaust roaring and headlight blazing! Before he could fully comprehend it all, The Advance Merchants Limited flew by at 65 miles an hour behind not one, but TWO! I-4 Pacifics with 23 heavyweight parlor cars on their tail.

In the rush of the passing train, little John Pryke could just make out the glow of two fireboxes and just as quickly as it had come, it was gone again with the tail sign receding quickly toward the sunset.

As the dust settled and the thunder of the Merchants' passing began to fade, the impression of the sight seared itself into the little boy's memory, and sparked a passion for the New Haven Railroad that would last the rest of his life and spur him into recreating this memory in miniature, someday.

* * * * * * * *

I try to relate this story at or at least near the anniversary of this event, which is all - mostly - verified as true. Especially since it not only inspired John to a life-long love of the New Haven RR, but - indirectly - influenced my choice not only of prototype, but of era and locale. John often mentioned visiting his grandparents in Old Saybrook and going with them down to the station to watch the trains go by. And he remembers seeing the double-headed, steam-powered Advance Merchant's Limited the Friday evening of Labor Day Weekend, 1948. It was this event, more than anything else, that he always pointed to as the inspiration for getting into model railroading and trying to recreate the New Haven in HO scale.

In fact, all of John's layouts - all featured at one time or another in books or the pages of Model Railroader - were firmly set in space and time: Southern New England's New Haven Railroad was the space, and the time could only ever be "September, 1948."

Now, almost ten years after his passing, I'm closer than ever to being able to recreate this memory in miniature. I have the Old Saybrook station scene as a highlight on my layout and, while I don't mind varying my chosen era within the narrow confines of "1947-1949," for all intents and purposes I'm modeling the Autumn of 1948.

I think - and hope - John would be proud of the effort. And I know he'd get a kick out of seeing a little HO scale version of his 8 year old self on the Saybrook station platform, waiting for another train to go by . . .

* This post originally appeared 9/27/2018, 70 years to the month since the event took place. I've reposted it not only to commemorate such an important time in John's life, but to remind myself that preserving these memories is one of the reasons for embarking on this project in the first place.

Throwback Thursday: On Giving Thanks & Making Trees

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

You've likely heard - and perhaps even participated - in the debate of whether model railroading is art. But have you ever thought of it as worship or contemplation?

After being sick all this past week, and almost missing Thanksgiving entirely, I woke up this morning feeling much better and noticed the beautiful sunrise from my back deck. The mood was enhanced by some nice seasonal music playing in the background (do yourself a favor and check out this song in particular). I couldn't help but try and capture it in the photograph above and the scene reminded me of the poem by Joyce Kilmer - " . . . only God can make a tree."

I think any time we engage in any creative endeavor, whether it be music, painting, dance, sculpture, or any of the arts - any time we create something for the purity of it itself - we are affirming our innate humanness and participating with God in Creation. While we can never be God, I believe our creative endeavors are reflections of the Imago Dei in our lives.

In this respect, our attempts at creating miniature worlds are echoes of our true identity as humans. We are born creators and while our attempts can never be any more than a mere reflections of the real world, I believe that the process of creating that world can itself be a contemplative exercise, affirming our humanity and providing an oasis in the midst of troubling times.

Is it any wonder, then, that a creative hobby can be so calming and restorative? And I think doing it can sometimes be an act of thanksgiving, thanking our Creator for the privilege of being able to participate in creation, in even a small way.

I've spent the past couple of Sunday afternoons dipping my toe in the deep end of this pool, trying my best to make some trees . . .

I started with armatures from Scenic Express, separating them into separate "trees" and spray painting them a medium gray color. When I was young, I always colored trees brown - but, turns out, they're often mostly shades of gray.

While the instructions recommend soaking the armatures in matte medium, I'm following the path many others have taken and am using hairspray (the cheapest, firmest hold you can get) to affix the "leaves" (various colors of flocking) to the armatures. I heavily spray the armature, then sprinkle the flocking over an old pie pan, which I then use to pour the excess flocking back into the container it came from.

It's a slow process - it took me an entire afternoon to do the trees you see above - but hopefully I'll get faster with practice.

But the results are definitely worth the time.

That's another thing I'm learning as I do more scenery on the layout: the time it takes often results in a better product, and the process itself can put you in a better, calmer, more contemplative frame of mind.

This Thanksgiving season, I hope you'll have a little extra time to spend working on your layouts - or doing whatever hobby you're in the mood for. And if you do, I hope you'll reflect on how blessed we are that, no matter what our level of skill or ability, we're able to create something that can bring us joy and maybe even a little peace.

From our home to yours, we wish you, your families and friends, a blessed Thanksgiving and holiday season.

(While this post was first published Thanksgiving, 2022 I think it fitting to repost in keeping with the spirit of the season, and to remind me to keep things in their proper perspective, being truly grateful for all my many blessings despite all that's going on in the world around us. I hope it helps you too during these difficult times.)

Friday Fun: Labor Day Weekend - 75 years ago . . .

 

I'm told it was 75 years ago "today" - the Friday of Labor Day Weekend, September 3, 1948 - when an 8 year old little boy went down to the Old Saybrook station platform to watch trains. The sun was going down - it'd be totally set within a few minutes - and in the gathering dusk a dull roar like thunder could be heard . . .

Looking eastward down the tracks, toward the gathering darkness, the sound seemed to get closer and he could just start to make out what looked like a plume of smoke - or maybe it was two? That didn't make sense. Almost all of the trains on the Shore Line were dieselized now, but, as loud as a pair of back-to-back DL-109s are, they sure don't sound like this . . .

It was the glimmer on the rails, lighting up the curve in the far distance, that was the first giveaway that a train was for-sure coming. Of course, the little boy knew a train was due. He'd been into trains for as long as he could remember and he knew how to read a timetable.

He knew that the approaching train had just crossed the Connecticut River and was accelerating hard off the bridge. It sure sounded like it - and the distinctive bark meant this train had to have a steam locomotive on the point. And with it being a little past 7pm, that meant it had to be The Merchant's Limited.

But was it early? The Merchants wasn't due through Saybrook until 7:17 . . . but just then, the train came blasting around the distant curve - exhaust roaring and headlight blazing! Before he could fully comprehend it all, The Advance Merchants Limited flew by at 65 miles an hour behind not one, but TWO! I-4 Pacifics with 23 heavyweight parlor cars on their tail.

In the rush of the passing train, little John Pryke could just make out the glow of two fireboxes and just as quickly as it had come, it was gone again with the tail sign receding quickly toward the sunset.

As the dust settled and the thunder of the Merchants' passing began to fade, the impression of the sight seared itself into the little boy's memory, and sparked a passion for the New Haven Railroad that would last the rest of his life and spur him into recreating this memory in miniature, someday.

* * * * * * * *

I try to relate this story at or at least near the anniversary of this event, which is all - mostly - verified as true. Especially since it not only inspired John to a life-long love of the New Haven RR, but - indirectly - influenced my choice not only of prototype, but of era and locale. John often mentioned visiting his grandparents in Old Saybrook and going with them down to the station to watch the trains go by. And he remembers seeing the double-headed, steam-powered Advance Merchant's Limited the Friday evening of Labor Day Weekend, 1948. It was this event, more than anything else, that he always pointed to as the inspiration for getting into model railroading and trying to recreate the New Haven in HO scale.

In fact, all of John's layouts - all featured at one time or another in books or the pages of Model Railroader - were firmly set in space and time: Southern New England's New Haven Railroad was the space, and the time could only ever be "September, 1948."

Now, almost ten years after his passing, I'm closer than ever to being able to recreate this memory in miniature. I have the Old Saybrook station scene as a highlight on my layout and, while I don't mind varying my chosen era within the narrow confines of "1947-1949," for all intents and purposes I'm modeling the Autumn of 1948.

I think - and hope - John would be proud of the effort. And I know he'd get a kick out of seeing a little HO scale version of his 8 year old self on the Saybrook station platform, waiting for another train to go by . . .

* This post originally appeared 9/27/2018, 70 years to the month since the event took place. I've reposted it not only to commemorate such an important time in John's life, but to remind myself that preserving these memories is one of the reasons for embarking on this project in the first place.

Scenery Base Progresses Northward, Despite Ground Goop Gotchas...And Mind the Mental!

I'm happy to report that the "flow" of scenery work I discussed in my last post is continuing northward from the Old Deep River Road area up to Deep River itself. Unfortunately though, while I'm in a scenery flow, my ground goop recipe seems to have ground to a halt . . .

Ground Goop Gotcha

As you can see in the pics above, the latest batches have come out VERY lumpy/bumpy. I'm using the same formula that's worked fine in the past (2 parts Sculptamold, 1 part brown latex paint, 1/2 part white glue, 1/2 part water - adding more if 1/2 part doesn't seem to be enough), but for some reason, while it looks smooth enough when I trowel it on, once it dries all the bits of paper stick out like a sore thumb.

I mixed up another batch this morning, adding more water to make the goop easier to smooth out, but so far it seems to be doing the same thing.

I'm beginning to wonder, as some folks pointed out on the Valley Local Facebook Group, if I'm using too much paint and the paint is shrinking as it dries - leaving lots of undissolved bits that are even more prominent since everything around them has shrunk.

So next time I need some "ground goop", I'm just going to mix up some Sculptamold according to the instructions, just adding water to it - no paint & no glue. I'll see if that ends up drying smoother and, if it does, I'll just get in the habit of painting it as a separate step rather than try to prepaint/color it.

Stay tuned! And if you're getting good results with my (previously used) formula, let me know what you're doing and/or what I'm doing wrong. . .

We're Rockin'!

I've had some pretty good luck with the few rocks I've cast and colored (see above), but - like with the goop - my latest efforts have been less satisfactory. Since I figured I could use some more practice - and knowing that modeling New England requires LOTS of rocks - I've been a rock casting fiend lately . . .

Thanks to those that have offered advice, as well as pointed me to videos and such, on different coloring techniques. As you can see in the pics above, I have plenty of castings to practice on - I just have to wait a week or so for them to fully cure before coloring . . .

Plaster Riverbed

While watching one of those videos, I learned that foamboard - even if painted - could offgas underneath resin water. Certainly not something you want! You need to seal the riverbed with a batch of thin plaster. Since I was already plastered in a plastering mood working on my rocks, I mixed up a batch, "dammed" the ends of the creek at Old Deep River Road with blue painters' tape, and poured it out, allowing it to find its level.  So far, I'm liking the results - and hopefully not only will this eliminate the offgassing possibility, but should also prevent any resin pour from leaking onto the floor . . .

Ballast Experiments

Yikes! It's been over FIVE years since I first solicited opinions about, and started researching, different ballast choices. If that's not the epitome of Analysis Paralysis, I don't know what is!

While I've been making scenery progress "up the line" in the Deep River area, the Saybrook station area continues to taunt me with its lack of ballast. An otherwise perfect prototype scene is marred by the "obviously a model" look of unballasted flextrack.

Thankfully, in addition to samples from KayleeZ and JimD, my buddy Randy dropped off a number of different grades of ballast - all sifted from local traprock (e.g. the exact same thing our prototype used for ballast). I won't admit to how long ago he did this, and I'm too embarrassed to try and remember anyway.

Since my main goals for the day (coloring rocks, doing base scenery, groundfoam, etc) were thwarted, I just pivoted to finally figuring out what ballast I should use on the Shore Line through Saybrook. So I took out my trusty test tracks and poured out three different grades, affixing them in the usual way. I'll be interested to see not only how the color ends up but, most importantly, which grade is going to look best - and most like the mainline ballast I'm used to seeing in the old prototype photos.

Foamcore Road - Rt. 82 in East Haddam

While all that was drying, I turned my attention even further up the line to East Haddam. Going full circle to the beginning of this post, I figured this would be the next best place to try some additional ground goop formulas - starting with plain ol' Sculptamold.

But first! I wanted to finish some terraforming in the area - specifically the roadway that crosses the tracks at the south end of the scene.

In the pic above, you can see my method for creating cutting templates so I don't waste any good foamboard.

This method comes in particularly handy when trying to fit odd spaces. The road itself is made up of pieces of foamcore board with the paper peeled off to reveal a nice textured surface.

Mental vs. Physical Health

So that's where I had to quit for the day - not bad for an afternoon's work! And I'm still chomping at the bit to make even more progress in the coming days. Unfortunately, weekends - and their big blocks of time - only come once a week (duh!) and it's tough to get to the basement after work during the week.

But The Missus gave me a great idea . . . while in this state of flow, why not spend the time in the morning before work, when I'd normally be hitting the treadmill or riding the bike, working on the layout instead? She reminded me that mental health is just as important as physical health and as long as working on the layout doesn't become a source of stress, it can be a great way to reduce stress (something sorely needed lately, given my day job). Mental and physical health are more closely related than many of us realize, and it's all too easy to neglect one or the other. Or both.

While I certainly wouldn't recommend giving up exercise to work on a model railroad (since you can't enjoy your layout - or anything else for that matter - if you're in poor health), she raises a good point. And as long as I'm in this flow - and the resulting immersion gives my dayjob brain a rest - I can just get some extra steps in during my lunch break :^)

And when this flow period inevitably ends, the treadmill will be right where I left it and the balance can swing back the other way until the next flow hits.  But for now, instead of riding my bike, I'm going to enjoy riding this wave . . .

On Giving Thanks and Making Trees

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

You've likely heard - and perhaps even participated - in the debate of whether model railroading is art. But have you ever thought of it as worship or contemplation?

After being sick all this past week, and almost missing Thanksgiving entirely, I woke up this morning feeling much better and noticed the beautiful sunrise from my back deck. The mood was enhanced by some nice seasonal music playing in the background (do yourself a favor and check out this song in particular). I couldn't help but try and capture it in the photograph above and the scene reminded me of the poem by Joyce Kilmer - " . . . only God can make a tree."

I think any time we engage in any creative endeavor, whether it be music, painting, dance, sculpture, or any of the arts - any time we create something for the purity of it itself - we are affirming our innate humanness and participating with God in Creation. While we can never be God, I believe our creative endeavors are reflections of the Imago Dei in our lives.

In this respect, our attempts at creating miniature worlds are echoes of our true identity as humans. We are born creators and while our attempts can never be any more than a mere reflections of the real world, I believe that the process of creating that world can itself be a contemplative exercise, affirming our humanity and providing an oasis in the midst of troubling times.

Is it any wonder, then, that a creative hobby can be so calming and restorative? And I think doing it can sometimes be an act of thanksgiving, thanking our Creator for the privilege of being able to participate in creation, in even a small way.

I've spent the past couple of Sunday afternoons dipping my toe in the deep end of this pool, trying my best to make some trees . . .

I started with armatures from Scenic Express, separating them into separate "trees" and spray painting them a medium gray color. When I was young, I always colored trees brown - but, turns out, they're often mostly shades of gray.

While the instructions recommend soaking the armatures in matte medium, I'm following the path many others have taken and am using hairspray (the cheapest, firmest hold you can get) to affix the "leaves" (various colors of flocking) to the armatures. I heavily spray the armature, then sprinkle the flocking over an old pie pan, which I then use to pour the excess flocking back into the container it came from.

It's a slow process - it took me an entire afternoon to do the trees you see above - but hopefully I'll get faster with practice.

But the results are definitely worth the time.

That's another thing I'm learning as I do more scenery on the layout: the time it takes often results in a better product, and the process itself can put you in a better, calmer, more contemplative frame of mind.

This Thanksgiving season, I hope you'll have a little extra time to spend working on your layouts - or doing whatever hobby you're in the mood for. And if you do, I hope you'll reflect on how blessed we are that, no matter what our level of skill or ability, we're able to create something that can bring us joy and maybe even a little peace.

From our home to yours, we wish you, your families and friends, a blessed Thanksgiving and holiday season.