Wheels and wheels

That resolution of mine hasn’t been going very many places. Because neither have we.

Not today though, ladies and gentleman! No, last night I went to bed at the ever-so-glamorous time of 8.30pm, and woke up this morning ready to ACHIEVE. We attempted to go to rhyme time at the library, but I spent too long answering correspondence (thank you, by the way, so much for your well wishes!) so we had to drive. And then there were no parking spaces, and then an angry lady nearly slapped me in the car park because we had an eyebrow conversation along the lines of ‘I MUST REVERSE’ (said her eyebrows) and ‘MY CAR IS HERE, SILLY’ (said my eyebrows). And then her next gesture cannot be reproduced for a family audience. And so we decided that this wasn’t a rhyme time kind of morning, and went to go pick up the dry cleaning instead.

On the way back, we found ourselves here.

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Steady yourselves. I know this looks too thrilling for words. Actually, it is.

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It is a museum of wagons and milk churns and steam engines and farming machinery. For a boy currently in love with wheels, it was the best thing he’d ever seen. And it was the most child-friendly place I’d been in ages: they had a carpeted area with a huge box full of toys, clipboards and paper for drawing and a table with a toy farm. Henry turned every knob worth turning and wedged himself into at least three pieces of equipment, and had the time of his life.

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We will most definitely be going back. And now we feel like we’ve done something worthwhile, we can nap without guilt. You see how that works?

Here’s to 2013, outside these walls. A very good start.

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