Back to work

I had meant to title this "Call me Cynthia" but thought better of it. This idea was supposed to be funny - a play on the name of Cynthia Plaster Caster.
Brass - ter Caster?
Yeah, it fell dead for me too. But I got to mention Ms Plastercaster to the unwashed.
Speaking o' which, George Hill has an ambulatory pickup once again but he's steamed that the mechanic didn't "do what I told him to" so he ended up paying a hundred bucks extra. He paid more than the quoted price... to a mechanic!
On his world this is an odd occurrence, apparently.
But... I digress.
First pic: My most gorgeous casting of a KD of my career (Yeah I call it that. What's it to ya?).
A thing of beauty.

See, virtually no flash - especially inside the finger loops, nothing but that one, little chunker - Woo Hoo!
The outside shit is a breeze, grinder and bandsaw work mostly but those inside bits are a her-kitty.

Okay, next up:

R&D on the R of D.
Behold, the Robbins ring dagger, the first new Robbins of Dudley knife I've turned-out in several years.
According to the sacred text, aka "The Flook Book" (Fuck-oh-dear that's an expensive book. I don't remember what I paid for mine. That's probably for the best), there is only one example of this particular Robbins pattern and it lives at the Imperial War Museum in London.
Ergo; you are now looking at half of all the Robbins ring daggers in existence.
That's bullshit of course (BTW the others in the pic are the most recent two generations of casting patterns that have gotten me to this point. All aluminum - even the blades).
When my life un-insaneitizes (is that a word?) itself I'm going to offer these - around a hundred or slightly less.
But, if I were being authentic, they would be cast from the "wonder metal" of the Great war era because that's what the real one - the one that's in that museum - is made of - and Robbins never made brass-handled variants of their knives, I don't think.
So, time to step up to the plate.
Aluminum or brass?
The white metal will run maybe ten bucks cheaper.
Vote in the comments. likewise with any guesses vis a vis the mystery pic at top.
In closing, let's see her on the runway...




























Hairy knuckles - manly, no?

PS: I need brass.
I'll trade straight across, merchandise for scrap @ $2.00 per pound - fifty cents more than I pay for it at the recycling yard.
Dead faucets, valve bodies - most plumbing stuff that; A. is metal and B. won't stick to a magnet (You've got one on your refrigerator - I'm sure).
This is a shot in the dark which may or may not pan out.
The problem is that the recycling joint "recycles" all the usable plumbing stuff - ie sells them at "used plumbing parts" prices.
No sweat. I don't want to melt down anything that's still useful.
It's just that all the shit, all the innards of the billions of dead toilets, sinks and the like gets sorted in a different spot and, depending on when I time my visit, there may be three of four 55 gal drums for me to pick through or none like last time.
Any old how... just to further ambiguate (is that a word?) the situation, here's Chrissie Hynde (She fucked Ray Davies!) and the rest, circa 1981.

She's got brass...
C'mon, help a brother out.