Drangerous

After a good night's sleep the Boy Wonder bounced upright in fine form, and we had a lovely morning together. After breakfast (Bear Alphabites still the chosen food of champions, happily) he and R went for a walk around the village and then collected some twigs and played Pooh-sticks at the bridge, while I pootled about at home having a bit of down-time. Then I was summoned out into the garden, so the Boy could chat to me while R pushed him on the swing.

We were talking about the Baby Brother, and how long it might be before he was allowed to use the swing, and B said, "He couldn't do swinging now, could he? No. It would be drangerous for him." Then he frowned, obviously realising that this didn't sound quite right, and tried again: "Umm... duh...rangerous..." "Yes, I said, "It would be dangerous while he's so little." "Yes," said B. "Drangerous. It would definitely be drangerous right now." He still looked uncertain about it, but R, out of the Boy's view behind him, was delighted, and later said privately to me that it's the hint of derangement about it that really appeals to him.

After lunch we drove over to Monmouth, and handed our charge back to his mother, who was delighted to see him and receive an enthusiastic hug (and possibly almost as pleased to be out from under a voracious Infant for a couple of hours). On our way home R and I stopped at the Broadway Tower for coffee and a debrief, and in the hope that I might manage to improve on the morning's garden snowdrops photos. There's a small, managed herd of Red Deer in the park, and despite notices on the fence of their enclosure pointing out that these are wild animals (and therefore, theoretically, drangerous), I quickly spotted that they seemed to be primarily focused on scamming treats out of tourists, through the section of fence that separates them from the land immediately around the Tower.

Luckily for me there's a kink in the fence, and by getting as close as I could to the angled section and putting the end of my lens right up against the large squared wire mesh, I managed to get some shots of the Deer out of which I could crop the main section of fence with its protruding touristy fingers. This is Lancelot, the resident stag, who according to the Broadway Tower web site has eighteen hinds and a number of offspring. Despite a surfeit of crisps in his diet, I think he looks rather magnificent.