smaller better

The wingpiglet was markedly less impressed with the fire station this year compared to the bus station last year, but the relative positions of the fire station museum and the big Meadows swing park to which he inevitably demanded to be taken meant that we could also swing past the anatomy museum so that I could show him the elephant skellingtons, the anatomy museum full of various other bits of various bodies and point at the labs where I got to poke at various dead people's leftover bodily components towards the end of the last century. After the one swingpark and most of our snacks were used up the intention had been to trundle back northwards via an old train station but a puncture (whilst going down the Mound, but fortunately slow enough to be able to stop controlledly) meant a diversion to the swingpark with the big slide so that he had something to do whilst I attempted to simultaneously fix the puncture (possibly caused by a blowout through a rent in the seam above the bead, which means 23mm Gatorskins will no longer to be trusted) and watch him.