Steel wool cages cannot hold us.

Things didn't get off to a great start when this was one of the first things we spotted

Of course it also didn't help that I was walking so funny, what with the bolt cutters down my knickers and all.



But with only a minor issue of concern (as in I had no idea what Missus Moog and the Mooglets actually looked like!) we all met up and proceeded to fight our way through the gazillions of people flooding Moors Valley. At this point Mrs Moog and I made a blood oath that we wouldn't blog pre-visit again as all the hundredty people who read these pages knew where we would be and came to join in ;-)



Some may have had a lot of energy to burn off

and others looked for sun shining through in an attempt to thaw just a little!



One of the things I love about the blogoverse is the general lovlieness and generosity of the people who inhabit the part I like to be in. Lesley ever so kindly brought along gifts. A beautiful bag each for myself and Princess Curly-Wurly and a felted snail for Babyman. (note to self: listen to CK next time and take gifts. second note to self: do not admit his rightness to CK). Of course there are some who cannot take responsibility for their own actions. And those of us for whom the consequences are a brand new bag muddied and sad.

So much of our time today was spent like this

And this

We loved this dog.





Especially during his turning circle among the trees. CRASH!



The mothers mostly spent the day like this.





But I think my best and favourite image I shall take away from meeting up with my real imaginary friend Moogsmum is



Sausage Monster and Babyman storming through the day as only small boys can.