Whatever that means
It turned out that while I was punishing Ellen for wandering off with her new wee pal (by making her sit in a chair doing nothing), Ewan was accepting bribes to swim from one end of the pond to the other.
Other than that it was a fine day of pottering around doing very little while everyone else on the site seemed to be riding strange bouncy bicycles up and down the hills on specially constructed trails. It all looked a little like cycling’s attempt at golf. Look, there’s a series of regularly spaced lumps in the trail, creating an increased measure of difficulty that’s well within the limits of a competent bicycle operator. Lucky we have this bouncy bike. Look, two lengths of tree trunk seem to have inexplicably landed on the trail, projecting from the grass on opposite sides and overlapping each other in the middle but conveniently spaced so that if we slow down a little, we can ride around them. Oh oh, looks like the trail turns sharply back on itself for no apparent reason before turning sharply again to resume its previous course. Best slow down a little and prepare to turn the front wheel. “Mountain” biking apparently, although I saw no mountains.
Andy did a fine turn on the barbecue, which turned poor Rusty bananas. And with all the home brew disposed of, we were forced to turn to shop-bought beer, which we did. The kids attacked some Haribo.”