it's been such a lovely week!
On the road again
Half-term means more time with our two gorgeous grandchildren and Monday finds me loaded into the back of my eldest daughter's van with her two boys and our youngest grandson's off-road wheelchair. He holds my hand most of the journey as we play clapping games together.
Our destination is the Wetlands and Wildfowl Trust centre at Slimbridge, one of nine set up by the charity established by the late Sir Peter Scott, the world famous conservationist and son of Antarctic explorer, Captain Scott.
We're meeting up with the parents of our daughter's fiancee. It's one of their favourite places to visit and we're really looking forward to seeing them again.
Jumping the puddles
We take lunch early to beat the rush then set off on a short tour of part of the grounds. The main event awaits, which is a Puddle-splashing Competition. Both grandchildren are dressed for the part in wellingtons and waterproofs. Duly enrolled for the contest they wait their turn.
The eldest goes first, takes a couple of practice jumps into the first two bright blue pools before one last final leap into the air and a satisfyingly splashdown into the third. His younger brother follows, lifted up by his mum and cheered the length of the course.
Two happy, tired boys are loaded back into the van and I amuse the youngest once again on the way home with yet more clappy-songs, this time accompanied by my warbling renditions of favourite works from the extensive canon of the late David Bowie. 'John, I'm only dancing' proves a hit with grandson and is repeated endlessly to his obvious delight.
The joys of modern cuisine
The second treat of the week comes two days later when eldest grandson is entrusted to my care for a boys' outing.
We start with an early McDonald's. He opts for the mcnuggets Happy Meal complete with complementary Disney watch. My own choice is the slightly more sophisticated Chicken Selects, but I do cast envious glances from time to time at grandson's fine new plastic time-piece. Two mcflurry's to follow see us suitably refreshed and ready to do battle with the Midlands motorways.
We're on our way to a half-term Workshop run by a local Arts Centre.
On making cameras
We arrive just as the Workshop begins and five minutes in we're hard at work constructing a pin-hole camera. A soft-drinks can, a little cardboard and some black gaffer-tape are all it takes and now it's time to load up the photo-sensitive paper.
My grandson thrusts both arms into a black canvas bag, searching out the box of paper within. A look of intense concentration comes over his face as he hunts out a sheet and presses it into the can, and then we're off again - out to the courtyard of the Arts Centre to take his first photo.
If at first you don't succeed
My grandson's first few efforts come to naught. The first picture looks like an alien head, the paper being loaded directly in front of the pin-hole, the second is as black as night - the result of opening the top of the can before it's safely in the dark, but with each fresh attempt he moves closer to success.
The third attempt and it's nearly there - a faint, ghostly, over-exposed image. He cracks it on the fourth and final go, a clear image, albeit in negative. Mission accomplished he lolls back in a chair as his photographic works dry ready to be taken home.
The joys of grand-parenting
How lovely it's been to spend a few hours with my grandson. The smell of the developing chemicals and fixative, the thrill of seeing an image appear on the paper - all these things transport me back to my own childhood when as a boy similar in age I watched my father print his own photos.
Such precious, precious time
