This was, of course, mentioned by His Grace, the Duke of Tradgardland, in his blog a while ago, and a good read it is too. To my mind, we live in a sort of 5th Century ourselves, here in Britain (and, particularly in England). The changes are, for some of us, almost too great to bear. I think of Robert Graves' poem, 'The Cuirassiers of the Frontier', which contains these lines:
'In Peter's Church there is no faith nor truth,
Nor justice anywhere in palace and court.
That we continue watchful on the rampart
Concerns no priest. A gaping silken dragon,
Puffed by the wind, suffices us for God.
We, not the City, are the Empire's soul:
A rotten tree lives only in its rind.'
On a more toy soldierly front, Paul Elliott's book has, of course, led to the little chaps - 15mm from Donningtons, the first, below, of a DBA army:
And, finally, joy of joys, I had a day off work, and put together a new bit of staging for my 6' x 4' greenhouse:
Alpines will adorn it.
'A gaping silken dragon/Puffed by the wind, suffices us for God.'