Another bit of the learning curve.

Yesterday we were threatened with an attack of the Outlaws this a.m. ... All hands to the battle-stations, batten hatches, stand by to repel borders. I can't convince the lass that they're coming to see her/us, not the state of the   £%^^&* house.

All put to rights in time for a slonk before they arrived, 2 grans + a pair of sprogs (1 of each).

On such occasions I find myself promoted to Char-Wallah cum sprog watcher/entertainer. Fortunately they've both grown past the leaping around on a corpse stage, but not past cuddles on knees. Good job there aren't 3 of them.

Next we assaulted the  MAC and 3 managed to play the same game ... One of those hidden object thingies, we all sat around looking and, if you spotted one you cried ''Mouse!'' and declared what you were after, thus preventing a cry of mouse just to manipulate it.

As ever/often an assortment was shot over the day to be sorted at will.

For lo these manymany moons I've leaned heavily towards pointy a shooty style. Today I thought I'd have a play.
Moral The camera does NOT know best.

On the left ... What the camera wanted to do.
In the middle ... What I told it to do.
On the right ... What a single click turned it into.