Back to Base-Sicks

Once again, a legacy wargame from my past may potentially be in my future, resurrected, Lazarus-like, by the son of a friend.

My first love was always the sci-fi setting of Warhammer 40,000, but the "rank-'n'-flank" mechanics of Warhammer Fantasy Battle had a undeniable appeal all their own. 

With densely packed units of infantry and cavalry wheeling and marching across a largely open tabletop, rarely questioning which units or models have line of sight to the others or who has cover , while evoking the pre-20th century maneuvering of historical battles such as Gettysburg and Waterloo, WFB was a classical wargamers dream - but with dragons and giants and wizards to keep things lively.

The game was discontinued shortly after I left Games Workshop in 2007 in favour of a wildly different skirmish game (Age of Sigmar) set in the aftermath of the destruction of WFB's setting, a fantasy-tinged, vaguely pre-renaissance Eurocentric globe simply called "The Old World".

So when GW announced a return to rank-n-flank with a ruleset called Warhammer: The Old World, I was happy so see it, sure, but didn't see any real applicability to me. When my young associate said he was getting into the game with a Goblin army and asked if my Empire force might be interested in a small scale scrap, I had to give it at least a look, didn't I?

Defenders of Averland, where social order is defined by hat-size

The very first thing I discovered was the crushing revelation that pretty much my entire Empire army would need to be re-based. You see, the infantry of my human-sized army (and anything simliar or smaller size, such as Elves or Goblins) was mounted on 20mm x 20mm square bases, where larger figures (Orcs, for example) were mounted on 25mm square bases. This meant a row of four Savage Orc warriors took up the same frontage as five of my Empire spearmen, giving me a slight advantage over this larger, sturdier foe.

On the other hand, the larger bases would make it far, far easier to rank figures up tidily, and made them less vulnerable to template weapons, such as dragon's breath or exploding cannonballs and the like. So I didn't have any philosophical opposition to the idea, but the effort to recalibrate to the new regime might be prohibitively labour-intensive.

Now, if re-basing woes sound familiar to you, you may recall a similar lament when the current edition of Warhammer 40,000 was released in 2003, complete with free rules and army lists. This had an undeniable appeal to my budget-conscious wargamer soul, but nto only was it a lot of rebasing, it was a lot of different rebasing, and the potential enjoyment never seemed to equal the expenditure of effort required, so I never started, and now a new edition is already on the way anyhow, so bullet dodged perhaps?

I feared a comparable outcome of my survey of WOW, but in searching out the quickest way to rebase entire armies, I came across an intriguing prospect: since formations of soldiers are typically moved around on holders called movement trays, what if you didn't rebase your figures? What if you adapted larger trays to hold smaller figures, achieving almost exactly the same effect?

A Spanish hobbyist on YouTube demonstrated how to achieve this with corrugated cardboard and tape, moving from a ruler approach to pre-printed templates he generously provided at no charge. But cutting out 100+ individual slots for my figures didn't seem like a huge improvement from re-basing them, to be honest.

Thankfully, I was not the only individual feeling that way, and a helpful soul has made 3d-printable files for trays precisely like these available on the interwebs. 

For such things, it is remarkable to have a friend with overlapping interests, in this case, miniatures and 3d printing. Did I mention he is also my young associate's father and is likewise being drawn along in this young man's wake? Delightful - the more the merrier!

At any rate, he graciously printed up a set of trays that should enable me to re-purpose my Averlander army in a much, much shorter timeframe than rebasing them.

Certainly, painting and texturing these trays to match my existing armies will be somewhat time-consuming, but compared to all new bases?

I am still perplexed as to what to do about these 4-man bases I put together around 2005, the cuitting edge of wargaming expediency at the time. I have five of them...

Now I have to decide if it is easier to somehow cut the base into four pieces or maybe sand down the slot ridges in the tray - but the uneven columns that would result make me shudder.

At any rate, the idea of an army I painted two decades ago and which hasn't been touched in probably 15 years returning at long last to the battlefield has a lot of appeal to me in terms of both spectacle and effective recycling. Wish me luck!

Watch Out - Birthday!

It all began with looking at watches together. And almost ended there.

Maybe you can't relate to this, but being a style-blind male in a household of style-conscious (but by no means conformist fashion victims) females? It makes things like gift purchasing for my wife a legitimately fraught prospect. 

I mean, I truly appreciate the fact that our relationship is one where we are able to be honest with each other, and I've learned not to take it personally when she asks to exchange a wool coat (that I surprised her with at Christmas) or expresses a preference for a different piece of jewelry (than the engagement ring I had picked out). No, seriously; I would be gutted if I ever found out she only accepted a gift from me to prevent me from feeling bad - which is why most times I am careful not to ask. 

The struggle is, as they say, real.

But I knew she was considering replacing her existing wristwatch, and I knew her nature would prohibit her from spending an adequate (not exorbitant) but adequate amount of money to secure a quality timepiece. 

So over month before her birthday, we started looking at watches on the Costco website, which led to many discoveries.

How about this pink one? Nice, but too girly, really.

This blue one? Mm, I think the face is too big, I'd worry about breaking the crystal.

This one with the gold and silver band? Ooh, that's actually - ugh, no - it has little jewels around the face... too much bling for me.

I shrugged and put is aside but never stopped searching on my own. Trying to find a stylish ladies watch, relatively blingless, with the proper-sized face and a metal wristband was proving fruitless. I had also hoped to find her one that would not require replacing the batteries, like the Eco Drive I got in 2018 after ten years with my employer. 

But just last week, with no other gifts panning out and still holding out hope, I checked the Costco site on a whim. I discovered they had recently added a new Citizen Eco Drive, with a gold and silver band but with zero bedazzlement. Yesterday morning, while doing all the shopping (including Audrey's requests for tiki drinks after her birthday sushi outing, I saw it in stock at my local warehouse and picked it up. 

At Gintaro for sushi

Driving home though, the second guessing began. I told myself that the store's ridiculously permissive exchange policy meant the watch was a no-risk purpose, but there was more than financial impact at stake, here...and not my ego either.

What man doesn't want to, at least occasionally, delight the most important woman in his life?

There have been so many times I have given up on surprise, taken her shopping and paid for the thing she selected to ensure reception, but sometimes I long for the sense of surprise I have achieved on select occasions in the past.

Both girls were home when I returned with the watch, a cavalcade of groceries and two bottles of Lamb's Navy Dark. After they helped to get everything stowed (bless 'em!), I asked if they wanted to see what the gift I had chosen. 

When I opened the box and showed them, they both made tremendously inflected and the precise number of Os in their "oooohh" so I began to relax.

I explained their mother's dislike of bling on watches and Fenya nodded, saying, "it's still pretty though - the face looks like it is made of marble." Glory agreed and liked that now the two of us would have similar looking watches. And they both marvelled at the revelation that it should never, ever need a replacement battery, which also helps maintain the watch's water resistance (50 m).

On a whim, I had bought a bag of Cracker Jack. I moved the watch from its box, placed it in a cloth bag while still wrapped around the pillow it came on, placed that into a ziploc and resealed this package inside the Cracker Jack with some super glue and packing tape (for the infuriating tears that appeared in two different places). I had done this same trick over twenty years ago with the family ring I gave her, which had honestly left her gobsmacked. (I waited two days before finally admitting I had opened the foil bag from the bottom and resealed it with glue, while she had opened it from the top and couldn't possibly have noticed.)

This time, I simply put the confection into a gift bag and covered it with crepe paper, but she still grinned delightfully when she saw it. (She did notice the packing tape repair while trying to extricate the interior bag.)

But I was so very gratified when she saw the watch and gave even more Os, with even more inflection that the girls had the afternoon prior. 

I am (probably inappropriately) transparent with the girls about some of my insecurities, such as giving gifts to their mother, so they both reassured me afterwards that I had done well, Glory adding that she had seen Audrey in the kitchen admiring the watch on her wrist, despite the band needing to be resized.

Happy birthday sweetheart - I hope you remember the surprise for a long, long time.

Project Hail Mary, Artemis II and My Introduction to Hopecore

I have been bordering on pushy, telling my friends and acquaintances to go see the movie Project Hail Mary. 

We watched it as a family the first Tuesday after release, and all four of us adored it. Any one of us would have happily turned around and walked right back in for a secodn showing, had that been an option. Fenya thought there was a chance of it ending up as her favourite science-fiction movie ever. For myself, I haven't been this evangelical about a movie in terms of bugging folks to see it in a theatre since Inception. I asked a friend who hadn't seen it if he wanted to go so I would have an excuse to watch it in IMAX.

And there are a lot of different reasons for this:

• a solid story, driven by science but wrapped in humanity
• a remarkable performance by Ryan Gosling (who also produced it), and almost half his screen time has no other humans to interact with
• a commitment to practical effects wherever possible, including puppetry and physical models of spaceships
• perhaps the best alien character since Mr. Spock, but far, far more alien

But that isn't the reason I am pushing folks so hard to not wait for this to stream, to see it in a darkened room with strangers.

The premise of the story revolves around the need to send a middle school science teacher 12 light years away in a last-ditch hope to save Earth's rapidly dimming star. Drew Goddard's screenplay (based on Andy Weir's (The Martian) novel) does not soft-peddle the horror of this, having the topic introduced in a classroom, resulting in 8th graders very quickly connecting the dots between a cooling planet, a global food crisis, and probable breakdown of society, and (understandably) getting quite upset.

But even with that grimness, underscored by the frank admission by the project's director (Sandra Huller) that the 30 year timeline they are working with assumes the world's governments working together to ration food (which they won't), hope permeates almost every scene. Sometimes desperately, sometimes whimsically, but very nearly omnipresently.

And that hope is closer to the reason for my zeal, but not the core of it.

Seeing a film that dramatizes so clearly and spectacularly the need for curiosity, openmindedness and friendship in desperate times, while we as a society and a species face a wholly different but still entirely fraught circumstance, was something I think I needed in my soul.

And experiencing it with a room full of people I don't know, and hearing sounds in the dark that made me realize they felt something similar as well? 

That was transcendent. 

I don't want to say much more about the movie itself because there are so many tiny discoveries to be made and I want you to have all of them, even if you do wait to see it at home (but please go if you can). And I really don't want to oversell it because a co-worker went to see it and disliked it so much she left before it finished, but I have to tellyou, that feeling it gave me felt awfully, awfully good, and I want more people to experience it. And I am sorry it didn't play out that way for my colleague, but hey, there is no accounting for taste, right?.

And looking on Threads (Meta/ Facebook's version of Twitter), it looks like a lot of folks share my sentiment about the flick, one of which introduced me to the term 'hopecore', which, please God, let this become a thing.

Hopecore, eh? You know, I am not entirely sure what that is....but I am pretty sure I want more of it.

Now, I fully realize that what I find touching you might find treacly or overly sentimental or whatever, so bear that in mind, but if these testimonials leave even the slightest bit curious, get our there before it leaves theatres. I've seen it twice already and will go again if it coerces someone else into seeing it in the wild.

Meanwhile, here in the real world, four genuine hero astronauts travelled further than any other humans ever last week, as the Intrepid spacecraft carried the Artemis II crew on a loop around the moon.

My sister and her husband (who is probably an even bigger NASA fan than me!) were up last week and we were able watch the launch together. I will admit, my heart was in my throat from liftoff to maybe the two minute mark, because Challenger's fate at 73 seconds into their flight abjectly refused my polite but firm requests to leave my mind, but it was honestly a beautiful thing to see and I am grateful we could all see it together.

But what was most surprising was how much interest was maintained throughout the mission - not just by my fellow space nerds, but the public in general seemed genuinely entranced by this mission. Maybe there was more interest up here in Canada because one of our own, Jeremy Hansen, was on a lunar mission for the very first time. Whatever the reason, hearing people in the grocery checkout line talk about the insertion burn or folks in church discussing the lunar slingshot was tremendously gratifying.

Similar to Project Hail Mary though, while the technology was amazing, the humanity was what a lot of us found most moving. 

First of all, one of the most diverse space crews ever, with a black pilot, female mission specialist, and a Canadian.

The emotion they shared went beyond mere excitement, such as when they shared the enormity of seeing a tiny Earth dwarfed by the Moon's proximity, and a giddy voice from mission control responded with a line from PHM:

Peak eye leakage for me came when they named a crater after the late wife of the mission commander, Reid Wiseman:

(Get effed, toxic masculinity!)

Anyways, the day after safely splashing down off the coast of San Diego, the Artemis II crew had a lot of great stuff to say, like Jeremy Hansen:

“What you saw was a group of people who loved contributing, having meaningful contribution and extracting joy out of that. And what we’ve been hearing is that was something special for you to witness. I would suggest to you that when you look up here, you’re not looking at us. We are a mirror reflecting you, and if you like what you see, then just look a little deeper. This is you.”

And Christina Koch:

“A crew is a group that is in it all the time, no matter what, that is stroking together every minute with the same purpose, that is willing to sacrifice silently for each other, that gives grace, that holds accountable. A crew has the same cares and the same needs, and a crew is inescapably beautifully, dutifully linked. I know I haven’t learned everything that this journey has yet to teach me. But there’s one new thing I know, and that is planet Earth: You are a crew.”

The greatest delight for me, though, continues to be the positivity, the optimism, the sense of hope in a time where it feels like we could really use more of it.

I watched Project Hail Mary on an UltrAVX screen and then again in IMAX. Glory and I watched the recovery of the capsule on my iPad while we ate dinner.

Whatever screen I might be viewing, please Lord, let there be more hopecore for me to see.

Easter-Birthday-Spring Break-Moonshot Visit Week!

Despite there being no shortage of things I could potentially blog about  - the global worry that WWIII could have kicked off yesterday instead of being TACO Tuesday, the Artemis II mission, my enduring love and appreciation for Project Hail Mary (seriously, go see it in a theater) - somehow I missed my self-imposed deadline of having something new to read at the beginning of each work week. My apologies!

There was plenty of time to have written somethng too, since I had taken all of last week off from work to coincide with Audrey's spring break from school. 

Tara and Jerry made it up from Texas on Wednesday; I cooked ribs on the Traeger and we watched the Artemis II launch together, as he is an even bigger NASA fan than I am. He shared an absolutely exquisite Bourbon County stout with me, as is his tradition (may his name continue to be blessed!), but we couldn't get too reckless since he was flying home the next day to relieve their dogsitter.

Tara, though, stayed until early Easter Monday, which I thought was terribly sporting of Jerry. We did a fair bit of nothin' together a couple of afternoons (which was delightful) but also: 

• Glory and her bestie Brooklyn took Tara out for supper at Tiki Tiki, as a thank you for the hospitality she and Jerry gave the two of them in TX last year 
• we all watched Jesus Christ Superstar together (an Easter tradition here, but Tara's first full viewing in decades)
• Tara took us all out to dinner at Argos, and we finally got to take her to Gracie Jane's (a bedazzled boutique gallery/bar)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• we had a Tiki party for Glory's birthday
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• we all went to Good Friday and Easter Sunday service
• on Good Friday we also got to hear Fenya sing a ten-minute excerpt (!) from Handel's Messiah and it was astonishing
  
  
  
  
  
• Sunday I started cooking the turkey I had brined the day before but needged my back and needed the rest of the family to step up and finish dinner - which they did, marvellously! And there were plenty of leftovers for sandwiches and soup 
  
  

  

  (turkey, stuffing, smoked bourbon cranberry sauce, bacon, brie and mayo)

  
  
• Easter eggs also made an appearance!
  
  
  
  
  
• early Monday, three of us got up at 4:30 a.m. to get Tara to the airport (Fenya had to work) and even the long ride out to EIA was enjoyable, despite saying goodbye to my sister for likely another year...
• and I even had time to meet up with my friends for D&D&D at Polyrhythm on Thursday!

Family, friends, food and drink and a little downtime - staycations can actually rock pretty hard in the proper conditions.

Performative Faith

(This post brought to you by a combination of insomnia and the sudden realization I forgot to blog last night!)

American Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth is framing up Trump's war in Iran with a lot, and I mean a LOT of faith-based language. He has instituted regular monthly Christian worship services at the Pentagon, and in a recent one, prayed openly for American service members to have "wisdom in every decision, endurance for the trial ahead, unbreakable unity, and overwhelming violence of action against those who deserve no mercy."

No specifics were given as to who specifically might be undeserving of mercy, but we can probably hazard some guesses.

This approach really seems to fly in the face of the teachings of Christ as they have been presented to me (feed the hungry, heal the sick, visit the prisoner, etc.) but it doesn't feel like my place to criticize someone else for how they express their beliefs, however hypocritical and problematic they might appear to me personally.

But luckily even protestants like me can take heart and guidance from the first American pope, Leo XIV, who in his Palm Sunday address said, "(Jesus) does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war, but rejects them, saying: 'Even though you make many prayers, I will not listen: your hands are full of blood',"

Citing the Hebrew Testament prophet Isaiah in this way really helps to draw a line between Christianity and Christian Nationalism, a movement we are having to deal with more and more here in Canada as well. Here in Alberta, the former Wild Rose Party and its "lake of fire" Biblical punishment fundamentalists, aided by citizen groups like Take Back Alberta, have rolled back all manner of protections for gay and trans kids and prompted the provincial government to divert millions of dollars in funding from public to private and religious 'charter' schools. 

Federally, MP Jamil Jivani voted against Bill C-9, which removes a religious exemption for hate speech, while dramatically clutching a bible to his chest. 

This bugs me for a number  reasons, not the least of which is because the House of Commons has strict rules against using props of any kind - even buttons with slogans and symbols are prohibited. But most aggravating is the fact that this guy and his party have voted against multiple pieces of legislation that would seem to be consistent with how Jesus would like us to behave: feeding school children, sending aid to Cuba in midst of an energy blockade, supporting a nationwide dental care program for those without other insurance.

None of these endeavours were worthy of Conservative support, but stop allowing people to use hate speech cloaked in scripture and Jivani and his ilk call it an attack on Christianity. And American-owned media like the National Post (who have a virtual monopoly on text-based media in Canada with 130 daily print and digital brands) are only too happy to back them up in this.

And while NP circumspectly calls it an attack on faith here, I wonder what would have happened had an MP brought a Quran to that vote instead of a Bible.

At the end of the day, I don't feel particularly persecuted as a Christian, and I am grateful to see the religious loophole to hate speech finally is almost closed now that the legislation has passed in the HoC. The arguments never held a lot of water, and as many have said, if the practice of your faith involves hate speech, you should check the instructions again to make sure you are doing it right.

Heck, even with C-9 in the books, I don't think Hegseth's posturing, bellicose prayer meets the threshold for what we would consider hate speech here in Canada - but it's good to know that if it was, scriptural shields are no longer a sufficient defense against accountability.

And who knows what accountability might eventually be rendered by the Almighty?

The Loveliest of Bones - Vernal Geekquinox 2026

In the end, it was neither the duck, nor the beef nor the lamb that did me in - it was the bull.

Pete & Ellen hosted their biannual dinner party last night, and as always it was a sumptuous feast and a delightful get-together.

Having been told the theme beforehand, I wore my jean jacket, hat and sweatshirt adorned with the original "Bone Daddy" (Jack Skellington) while Audrey (not pictured) donned pyjama pants and explained she was "bone tired." Ellen's Dio de Los Muertos shirt and bone barrettes were an excellent thematic touch as well.

With Pete busy in the kitchen, I was only too happy to help out by preparing the bone-themed cocktails that he had printed out, but the first course arrived before we had gotten very far: lamb lollipops (chops with long, frenched bones to facilitate eating with one's hands).

Succulent and flavourful, these were particularly enjoyable as there is not much appetite for lamb in our house, but I am always happy to have it. Brilliantly seasoned and done to a turn on Pete's Big Green Egg, I believe.

The starting cocktail (for me, anyways) was a Rusty Nail variation using corn whiskey instead of scotch and replacing the Drambuie with amaro (an Italian digestif) and Benedictine. This made the drink a little less sweet than I am used to but more complex and a real delight - plus every drink tastes better in Waterford crystal, in my opinion!

The main course, served mid-afternoon, was braised lamb shanks. These had been cooked wetly for hours with vegetables that were removed and blended to create a tasty gravy, that was poured over the bony lamb cuts as they lay on rice.

Tough to say what I enjoyed more, as the tender lamb shanks themselves were delicious and fell off the bone with even the slightest of jostling, but the rich, savoury blended vegetables made the entire dish next level. The rice was completely necessary as a means of capturing all the sauce, but I would love to try it with mashed potatoes instead.

I didn't photograph every libation, but here is Margaret enjoying the most surprising of them: the Bone Cocktail.

We are kind of an old crew now, and normally approach drinks like Red Bull with same level of wariness one would apply to removing an antagonistic lynx from one's linen closet. But I was curious and Audrey agreed to split one with me, and it was surprisingly delightful!

The sweetness of the Malibu seemed to dull the bitter and medicinal edges of both the Jagermeister and the Red Bull, leaving a tart and refreshing drink that enabled us to stay up until midnight! (And maybe a bit beyond, as Jeff had two of them...)

Even in a meat- and bone-centric menu such as this, the tomahawk steak (my first!) was a visual standout.

Once cooked to medium-rare (mmmmaybe a little rarer than that in places), Pete deployed fried onions onto toasted baguette slices with arugula, added thin slices of the steak and then topped it off with homemade chimichurri sauce - delectable and delightfully presented to boot!

And fortunately Scott was on hand to help coax the rarer bits into line with Pete's kitchen torch...

I neglected to get a picture of the most interesting drink of the night: the Bone Crusher. A 2-person cocktail built around a generous pour of Mezcal, Margaret described it as "delicious but confusing", and I agreed wholeheartedly.

Combining sweet, tart, smoky and spicy elements, this one was a real hit for both taste and complexity. If I was to do it again, I would probably sub in chipotle for the salted and spicy rim.

And the Bone Chiller was a delightful (if strong!) quencher, as shown here by Totty.

Before the final course, Pete asked if anyone wanted to finish off the homemade Advocaat he'd made over the holidays (a Dutch liqueur made with eggs, brandy and vanilla), and Audrey and I were only too happy to assist.

The final meat course was duck confit, a drumstick slow cooked in fat wth salt and seasonings (originally a preservation method, I learned). Served with a delicious arugula salad garnished with a tart vinaigrette, perfectly complementing the mouthwatering, salty duck. I neglected to snap a pic of the plating, but never has a greasy fry pan looked so alluring to me! 

Finally, for dessert, we had a dino dig cake. Unfortunately, using warm water to extract white candy from the silicon molds meant losing much of the definition that made them look like fossilized dinosaur skeletons, but a) we are all imaginative people and b) the chocolate frosting was one of the most cocoa-forward things I have ever tasted.

The entire affair took a little less than 12 hours (!), with Pete cooking and Ellen hosting and cleaning almost the entire time. It is a tremendous outlay of effort, especially when you factor in the prep times.  Not every guest is able to stay for the whole event, but everyone leaves immensely impressed with the quality and variety of food and libations, the unequalled hospitality, and the sheer wonder and joy of being able to come together as a group again, as we have for so many years.