chip and shatter

As the wingpiglet slept through most of the being-minded session he'd been booked into yesterday afternoon he was re-booked into one today, which gave me a couple of hours to go for a wander to revel once again in the grippiness of my feet (whilst also being saddened that my two-year-old walking-trainers are now dead and leaking through both heels, despite their life being extended by cycling-resumption) and to pop to buy some reliably-fresh milk and generally treat my lungpipes to some pleasantly cool air. Upon returning to the hotel and picking him up it became apparent that he'd spent most of the time being played with by his eight-year-old middle cousin after the other two-to-three-year-old children turned out to all know each other and to be unaccepting of newbies, He'd probably have been fine on his own but it was a nice cousinly thing to have happened.