I am fairly new to this "static grass lark" could you please explain a little further how your applicator is made and how it works.
Thank you
John
Your latest acquisition
Re: Your latest acquisition
Thank you
John
Re: Your latest acquisition
There are a lot of videos on Youtube showing how it is done, but the exact process does depend on the the sieve and fly swatter you have. Search for 'static grass applicator diy'.
The fly swatter is like a tennis racket with three metal meshes, like a ham sandwich.
When you take it apart you will see that there are two wires going to the 'bread' and one wire going to the 'ham'. When you push the button the 'bread' is at several thousand volts and the 'ham' is at neutral.
So you need to remove the mesh and replace it with a metal sieve. These sieves tend to be made of stainless steel so you cannot easily solder to them. I removed the plastic from a brass terminal block and soldered the live wire to that. I then secured the sieve in place with hotmelt glue, some people just use tape. I then drilled a small hole in the case and replaced the neutral wire with a longer lead with a probe on the end.
To use it, you spread some dilute PVA over the appropriate area and put some static grass in the sieve. Touch the neutral wire to the glue and hold the sieve as close as possible over it while you push the button and shake it. The grass will fall through the sieve and land on the glue but will be attracted to the sieve and so will stand up. It takes a bit of practice to get the right amount of glue and it is better to use very diluted glue, otherwise it is too sticky and the grass doesn't stand up.
The fly swatter is like a tennis racket with three metal meshes, like a ham sandwich.
When you take it apart you will see that there are two wires going to the 'bread' and one wire going to the 'ham'. When you push the button the 'bread' is at several thousand volts and the 'ham' is at neutral.So you need to remove the mesh and replace it with a metal sieve. These sieves tend to be made of stainless steel so you cannot easily solder to them. I removed the plastic from a brass terminal block and soldered the live wire to that. I then secured the sieve in place with hotmelt glue, some people just use tape. I then drilled a small hole in the case and replaced the neutral wire with a longer lead with a probe on the end.
To use it, you spread some dilute PVA over the appropriate area and put some static grass in the sieve. Touch the neutral wire to the glue and hold the sieve as close as possible over it while you push the button and shake it. The grass will fall through the sieve and land on the glue but will be attracted to the sieve and so will stand up. It takes a bit of practice to get the right amount of glue and it is better to use very diluted glue, otherwise it is too sticky and the grass doesn't stand up.
Modelling post war LMS. DCC control via Roco z21 & multiMAUS
Re: Your latest acquisition
Thank you for your reply it is most helpful. I will try and get a "bug bat" and experiment.
John
John
Re: Your latest acquisition
Henley: A State of Mind.
Finally, after first seeing an image of a Roco 4-4-4 Italian Electric in 1975, I finally tracked one down. Why, you may ask, is it situated smack in the middle of an ostensibly British layout? Couple of reasons, first, "Henley" is a state of mind. It is a nostalgic memory of a time when I found myself traveling to, and living in, some rather off the beaten path European countries, including a year in the UK. So, in "Henley," I am not trying to grasp the particulars of a replication of a place, or time, but rather building a 3 dimensional portrait of a memory of being in a place and time, and revolving that, largely, around trains. There is no Norman castle in the actual Henley, UK, nor is Stonehenge anywhere near the place. It did have canals, near or about the River Thames, but no Roman artifacts, that I am aware of, turned up in Henley (there is an excavation of Roman mosaics, I put), and nor is there any dinosaur finds in that part of the UK. I am contemplating the White Horse of Dover, but not sure where it could be fit. Also, Sutton Hoo, is a real Viking excavation, and one of the world's most important archeological discoveries, but again, no where near the real Henly, UK.
If you will, note that there is a Soviet red star on the nose of this fine Italian piece (and yes, I see now I am missing some hand rails, my eyes were hurting and it took two hours to put the other hand rails on, terrified I'd botch the job with a glob of glue, I will get to those). The reason is that in 1964, at the height of the Cold War, Dad merrily hauled us all off to Moscow so that he could better research, so the story went, a book he was writing on the Cossacks (he eventually published in about 1982, and it was a total flop). Never mind he worked as a translator when drafted into the Army, at the Pentagon, in the 1950's (just about exactly the time the Rosenbergs were getting juiced). Had the Ruskies known that, I'd probably still be in the USSR drinking brake fluid. Well, after Dad had finished his research (we took a tour of Lenin's Mausoleum (my older brother sneezed in front of Lenin's corpse, and rifles were lowered in our direction, at this grave breech of Soviet etiquette- one does not sneeze in the presence of a Soviet god), a trip to the largely empty G.U.M. department store, and chicken kiev, the only thing of the menu for foreigners at the Soviet hotel, as well as mother being shaken down by suspicious Soviet street cops, with her brood in tow. They probably let us go because I was such an insufferable brat. Suffice to say it was a grim, dank, gray place. Drinking brake fluid does not seem out of the question.
The highlight of this little vacation to behind the Iron Curtain (we traveled on Canadian passports, if you were wondering) was taking the night train, "soft class" (hard as iron) to Helsinki. Towering over me was this olive-brown electric locomotive, hissing like some living beast, and slowly we clanked and rocked and heaved throughout the blackest of nights out of Mother Russia. This Italian job, resembles what I saw. I added the Soviet stars, myself. Ever since I have been old enough to walk, trains have always had me spell bound. And this memory was fused into my young mind.
Now, did the Soviets have this particular Italian locomotive? Perhaps. Having murdered so many of their intelligentsia they had to import a lot of stuff, and what they didn't import, they freely copied. But, Golly, this thing sure comes close to my memory. So, here it is in Henley (where we lived from '66 to '67, and my love of trains only got worse with a gift of a Wrenn wind up train set). Henley, it is a state of mind. Probably confusing to a lot of people, but makes perfect sense to my elder sister and I. We remember it well.
Brawa Ambulance Coach
I work in the medical field, so I am always a sucker for anything train-medical. This adds a second ambulance coach to the Henley fleet, which is well as Nessie (currently a metaphor for Covid, along with assorted bugs, both real and toy) is hard at it, with the new Delta variant, and so with the resurgence, more ambulance service is needed.
As it to being Austrian, German, or Prussian, I know not which, any with buffers is automatically assumed by my North American pals as being European. Anything European, from the UK to Russia is ergo undistinguishable to them. Works for me!
Finally, after first seeing an image of a Roco 4-4-4 Italian Electric in 1975, I finally tracked one down. Why, you may ask, is it situated smack in the middle of an ostensibly British layout? Couple of reasons, first, "Henley" is a state of mind. It is a nostalgic memory of a time when I found myself traveling to, and living in, some rather off the beaten path European countries, including a year in the UK. So, in "Henley," I am not trying to grasp the particulars of a replication of a place, or time, but rather building a 3 dimensional portrait of a memory of being in a place and time, and revolving that, largely, around trains. There is no Norman castle in the actual Henley, UK, nor is Stonehenge anywhere near the place. It did have canals, near or about the River Thames, but no Roman artifacts, that I am aware of, turned up in Henley (there is an excavation of Roman mosaics, I put), and nor is there any dinosaur finds in that part of the UK. I am contemplating the White Horse of Dover, but not sure where it could be fit. Also, Sutton Hoo, is a real Viking excavation, and one of the world's most important archeological discoveries, but again, no where near the real Henly, UK.
If you will, note that there is a Soviet red star on the nose of this fine Italian piece (and yes, I see now I am missing some hand rails, my eyes were hurting and it took two hours to put the other hand rails on, terrified I'd botch the job with a glob of glue, I will get to those). The reason is that in 1964, at the height of the Cold War, Dad merrily hauled us all off to Moscow so that he could better research, so the story went, a book he was writing on the Cossacks (he eventually published in about 1982, and it was a total flop). Never mind he worked as a translator when drafted into the Army, at the Pentagon, in the 1950's (just about exactly the time the Rosenbergs were getting juiced). Had the Ruskies known that, I'd probably still be in the USSR drinking brake fluid. Well, after Dad had finished his research (we took a tour of Lenin's Mausoleum (my older brother sneezed in front of Lenin's corpse, and rifles were lowered in our direction, at this grave breech of Soviet etiquette- one does not sneeze in the presence of a Soviet god), a trip to the largely empty G.U.M. department store, and chicken kiev, the only thing of the menu for foreigners at the Soviet hotel, as well as mother being shaken down by suspicious Soviet street cops, with her brood in tow. They probably let us go because I was such an insufferable brat. Suffice to say it was a grim, dank, gray place. Drinking brake fluid does not seem out of the question.
The highlight of this little vacation to behind the Iron Curtain (we traveled on Canadian passports, if you were wondering) was taking the night train, "soft class" (hard as iron) to Helsinki. Towering over me was this olive-brown electric locomotive, hissing like some living beast, and slowly we clanked and rocked and heaved throughout the blackest of nights out of Mother Russia. This Italian job, resembles what I saw. I added the Soviet stars, myself. Ever since I have been old enough to walk, trains have always had me spell bound. And this memory was fused into my young mind.
Now, did the Soviets have this particular Italian locomotive? Perhaps. Having murdered so many of their intelligentsia they had to import a lot of stuff, and what they didn't import, they freely copied. But, Golly, this thing sure comes close to my memory. So, here it is in Henley (where we lived from '66 to '67, and my love of trains only got worse with a gift of a Wrenn wind up train set). Henley, it is a state of mind. Probably confusing to a lot of people, but makes perfect sense to my elder sister and I. We remember it well.
Brawa Ambulance Coach
I work in the medical field, so I am always a sucker for anything train-medical. This adds a second ambulance coach to the Henley fleet, which is well as Nessie (currently a metaphor for Covid, along with assorted bugs, both real and toy) is hard at it, with the new Delta variant, and so with the resurgence, more ambulance service is needed.
As it to being Austrian, German, or Prussian, I know not which, any with buffers is automatically assumed by my North American pals as being European. Anything European, from the UK to Russia is ergo undistinguishable to them. Works for me!
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Walkingthedog
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Walkingthedog
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Re: Your latest acquisition
Yes Kevin. Sold all my OO after 60 years just before first Covid lockdown and decided to go O.
Nurse, the screens!
Re: Your latest acquisition
Still dipping my toes in the Electrotren waters. As my North American comrades see a buffer, it's all European to them. Did hunt down
a vintage Hornby Cable wagon. The Liverpool designation has a slight irony to it, Beatles and all.
+
a vintage Hornby Cable wagon. The Liverpool designation has a slight irony to it, Beatles and all.
+
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Walkingthedog
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