Putting the 'tent' into good in-'tent'-ions

As you probably know by now, the Califorian munchins are coming to stay with me 12-19 August (That's Sophie 9 and the twins, Kiki and Harry, 8). So, methinks, let's revive my ancient tent so they can sleep out yurt-style in the back garden, maybe live on yak's milk and learn about plov.
The tent is a "Good Companions" tent that I bought in the early seventies when I paid my first visit to the Scottish Highlands, and a bloody good tent it was too. On one campsite, in a storm, all the tents got blown out except for the Good Companions tents.
So, I retrieved the tent and its flysheet from a musty trunk and my god, the canvas smelled musty.
So I pitched the tent in the garden, Moreoroless. Because after so many years, I had forgotten how to erect it (Old Scrotes are liable to this problem), and pitched it wrongly (Photo 1). I finally got it right (Photo 2).
The last time I used this Good Companions tent was with Jeremy when we lived in Switzerland, and we pitched it one summer's evening in the direct line of a Langlauf Piste, ie, zilliions of sweating Swiss in running gear pounding past us getting fit for the winter. I kind of went off camping after that.