Sunday 22 April 2018

The trouble with water towers...

GWR water tower
... is that you can't see the top of them. I have to admit that I'd not given these things an awful lot of thought until this week. There are photographs of water towers by the thousand on the internet, but to a man they are taken from the safe position of standing with both feet firmly on the ground. I can understand this; for who in their right mind wants to  climb a ladder and perch at the top with camera in hand, thinking: this'll be useful to someone building a Ratio kit of one of these.  The net result of all this is that I still have little understanding of what's going on up there except that it is vaguely resembling a very large toilet.

Then there is the painty thing. Thinish coats of paint (so that the rivet detail stays) don't like the battleship grey plastic - four light coats later and it's just about acceptable. This is the last of the  single items to do before the gargantuan effort of jumping full belt into another layout. An attempt was made yesterday to buy some MDF as I happened to be passing Homebase, but true to form they only stock things I don't need like lawnmowers and BBQ things, not stuff to make things with. The concept of making something seems to be fading  - making things is what other people (mainly Chinese people) do. We seem to be less curious and less creative as a breed now. My childhood was full of weekend project taken on by my parents and grandparents. There was always something to make, something to fix, the garden to sort. Now we have weekend events and experiences at weekends and moan that there is no money left. The world turns slowly...

1 comment:

  1. How true your last comments are. I think we - makers and menders - are a dying breed. I've just spent a week working on my cottage in Northiam - scraping off loose paint, priming, undercoating then applying two top coats in the hottest April weather I can remember. Also, replacing a 1.6m board at the side of the front door - cutting it in and fixing the new timber securely. It was knackering but satisfying work. I could have paid someone else to do it (well I did pay Terry to help) but I couldn't really afford it, and where's the fun in that?