We're back from a little trip. A change of scene can be a very good thing. Particularly when the scenery is so lovely.
And escaping from the eternal drizzle rain and grey skies helps too. We could pretend to live in houses that weren't ours.
And defend then from enemy invaders.
And of course there were plenty of boy activities. Ranging from the relatively tranquil feeding of the ducks.
Through the gently active garden cricket.
To the death defying tree climbing. Can you see him? Look closely.
Now look at the size of the tree. That's hubby chewing his fingernails at the bottom.
He's hoping neither of us has to climb up to rescue him. The last time I had to do that, I was eight-and-a-half months pregnant with Johnny. Mark got stuck about 15 feet up a tree. I thought he'd manage to get down himself, but then came a tearful little voice 'Mummy, my legs have gone all trembly'. Bump or no bump, I was up that trunk like a shot.
Thankfully this time the descent was all under his own steam. He's going to get all the cousins up there next time we see them. Bet my brother and sister-in-law are pleased they lent us their house now!