Having hunted unsuccessfully online for the opening times of the Military Museum (although had I thought about it I would probably have found them in one of last year’s posts right here!) we decided that we would anyway zip over the road on the off-chance that we might find the doors open, our fingers firmly crossed.
But of course, in spite of all those crossed fingers, it was firmly closed. As was the Chateau museum too. Bother. Deadlines (of which we know all too well) fast approaching – and out of luck.
Well, we could have about-turned and trouped back to school again. After all there was so much to do! But eager voices urged; ‘Let’s see if we can find the monkey puzzle tree!’ and ‘Where is the tissue tree?’ and even ‘Can I climb to the top of the lightning tree?’ We had earlier been comparing notes; looking at the Guide Books children in previous years had written.
On the way to check out these three things, we ventured somewhere I had not been before. Into the orchard.
A new challenge. Remembering some of the learning we had done in our unit of inquiry on Plants, we set about first to see if we could find any fruit growing. A quick (but totally unnecessary as it turned out) reminder of what a fruit is and off we set.
Squeaks and squeals as excited children ‘discovered’ tiny apples, as distinct from equally tiny pears.
And how about these? Soft furry baby quinces (can you see the remnant of the flower there?)…..
and peaches too. Not to mention hard green mini-plums.
And then squeaks and squeals as excited teachers ‘discovered’ fat juicy ripe cherries, dangling enticingly from the branches.
But no, we did not pick any (tempting though it was!) Instead we hunted around on the ground underneath the various trees for windfalls. We eventually returned to school - having also checked out the monkey puzzle tree, the tissue tree (now of course lacking its tissue-like flowers but instead sporting these…..
intriguing fruits) and having allowed Amelia and others to scale the lightning tree - red-lipped, with our pockets and fists bulging with the results of our scavenging.
As the title admits, bad planning – but a most successful outcome. Sore tummies notwithstanding.