The boys were glad to get out of the car and stretch their legs. And as soon as they saw the trampoline they were delighted. Gemma - or Kenny as Gregor immediately called her - was a natural with the boys. Her big brother Lee wasn't there, unfortunately. He was dragging Grandfather Eugene around the imperial war museum and picking his brains on the 2nd world war.
Kenny proved to be a good sport and obliged Gregor in all manner that he's become accustomed to.
And while they were otherwise occupied, Alastair took the chance for some quality attention from Sally, who patiently helped him on the scooter. Our visit was short but sweet. Though next time we head for the west country we'll pop in again.
After that it was a trouble free stroll to the M25, bit of slow traffic but generally an easy ride to cousin Karen's in Shenfield, where we stopped for the night. Her and Richard have just overseen an enormous extension to their house, and we plonked ourselves right in the middle of it. Here was Karen getting carried away playing with Gregor who was lying right on top of some glass doors. Richard calmly mentioned that they might want to do their measuring somewhere else!
Building sites are paradise for lit'luns. Alastair was bolder than normal and went up alone.
The large lawn, lovingly tended by Richard, inspired Alastair to have a spring picnic by himself. Gregor looked at him and said 'don't worry Karen, Alastair just does what he likes'.
As if he doesn't. Here he was having a guided tour of the border, while playing a bit of footie with (Chelsea fan) Richard, moments before the calamity when he pricked his finger on a rose thorn and half of Brentwood heard him.
Karen works in a hospital and I think Gregor was so impressed by the treatment he received for his thornprick from her that I am connecting his recent hypochondriac tendencies to this incident.
Here, Alastair was trying to convince Richard that it would be a really good idea to take the cover off the hot tub and let him and Gregor play in it. Richard was wavering there for a bit.
And finally, after the boys had been told that there are lots of foxes in the garden at night, Gregor, true to his name - the vigilant - sat and waited and sat and waited and sat and waited...
...till he saw one coming from over there. He really did and he was really happy.
The following day we stopped off at the boys' cousins this time - my sister Sarah's in Kelvedon, just 30 minutes up the A12 from Karen's house. It was a good day, so we cancelled plans of visiting Colchester castle and had fun in the garden instead.
Alastair took a shine to Alex's digger and by the end was managing the controls quite well. The boys soon mucked in and began loading up the truck. Sam was explaining the complexities of the operation, but I think Alastair just wanted to get on and dig.
Once he got the chance, he was straight in there.
Alex takes it all in and follows most of Sam's advice. Far more obedient than Alastair is with Gregor.
The garden is perfect for keeping them occupied and contained. Not too large and not too small.
And not too many precious plants standing in the way of a good game of footie.
That evening while the boys were asleep - we stayed at Kelvedon overnight too - I picked Misha up from Stansted, just down the road, having returned from visiting his convalescing mother in Kiev. The next day we all 4 trundled back up the A12 to Lowestoft.
