On our last day on the Isle of Wight we drove round the island looking briefly at all the beauty spots we hadn't had time to visit previously, then headed on to Cowes ('Cowes you cannot milk!' as Wilson reminded me) and boarded the ferry back to the mainland.
As we were leaving, another ferry passed us going the other way, and W remarked sadly that he wished we were just arriving instead of departing.
I tried to cheer him up by reminding him of all the exciting things he could do back in Uckfield:
• The new Card Game he's invented,
• The new Kitchen to see,
• Telling everyone else about his holiday,
• Halloween,
• Fireworks Night,
• Xmas…
'Okay, New Dad,' he interrupted me — fortunately, as by then I'd suggested everything I could think of — 'Let's get going!'
We dined once more at a waterfront eatery.
Antony and TT were well overexcited, as it was some time since they'd eaten out at a restaurant, but Wilson had only to threaten them with the 'Brown Paper Bag Of Tranquility' for them to settle down.
W ordered for them — he wanted to be certain they had something he would enjoy finishing up for them, as they have quite small appetites (or, to put it another way, they are slow eaters…)
Tomorrow we shall attempt a lightning tour of the island's beauty spots before catching the ferry back to the mainland. I need to get home to sort out the hole in the ceiling, and everyone else wants to start preparing for Halloween.
Before we left the Mill, since Antony and Tiny Toy don't often get out Wilson thought it would be good to have a souvenir group photograph of everyone.
'Everyone' not including me, obviously — somebody has to press the shutter, after all!
He'd thought it would be funny if everyone leaned to one side, so it looked as though they were in a strong wind — but nobody could agree on which way to lean…
One of the exhibits in the museum was a collection of old-fashioned gas-stoves, and Wilson became dewy-eyed standing by one of them.
'This,' he said, 'is exactly like the stove my Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, had when I was a little cub!' He twiddled the Gas Regulo knob as he gazed into his past…
'In an oven just like this, she'd produce enormous Ant Lasagnes and Rock Buns for the whole family,' he reflected dreamily.
'No-one,' he continued, 'no-one in the whole world could burn the bottom out of a saucepan like Mrs V…'
Part of the Museum was devoted to WW2, and the entrance was mocked up with sandbags and a sign announcing: 'Keep Clear: Unexploded Bomb!'
It took me a few minutes, and the help of one of the Museum Guides, to convince Wilson that this was just pretend — there wasn't really an unexploded bomb.
Once he was convinced of this, he donned a Tin Helmet and entered into the spirit of things, examining all the exhibits with interest.
I'm pretty sure, though, that WW2 is confused in his mind with the Great Ant Wars of 1921 in which his ancestor 'The Blue Baron' was a distinguished fighter pilot…
After leaving the Mill buildings we were heading to the Museum when Wilson darted off down a little passageway.
He was initially attracted by the telescope which, as it was pointing at the ground, he'd assumed was for observing ants, but as he drew closer he noticed the massive structure on the right — the thing that looks like a rusty, disused furnace.
Turns out it is one of the original casings from the Black Knight Rockets, built and tested on the Isle of Wight in the 1950s when Britain was still part of the 'Space Race'.
W had a good look inside, in case there were any old space-suits left lying around, or perhaps some 'Space Food.'
He told me later that it was very dark in there, but as far as he could tell, it was 'Empty. As dark and empty as Deep, Deep Space…'
