wingpig

By wingpig

wheelsh

Despite having been fine for the past week, the slidey-water-covered meltyslush down here was just impenetrable enough when unladen and with tyres taken down to their lowest snakebite-puncture-tolerating pressure of about 70psi on Friday that I carried it up the steps to the road rather than going another hundred metres then up the zigzag slope.

This morning went as quickly as a morning can, requiring an extremely busy last half-hour before I left at lunchtime to get a couple of things finished to get out of having to leave a note of what to do if someone needed then done before tomorrow morning. I had time to examine a few footways on the way home to check that they were still too slushy to scoot along before dropping the bike at home, making some pig-food then going to school on foot to collect them to head to judo. Fortunately Nicky's thing finished early, removing the need to try work out which bus would provide the best option for getting over to Beavers whilst simultaneously allowing Edgar to eat, preferably without having to carry Amos the whole way.

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