tread warily

Having temporarily escaped the weird intersection of a county full of pro-Tory pro-Leave conspiracy gammons in a village with a very agèd demography, my parents trundled over to Newhailes to observe the children and bemoan the weapons-grade dog-imbecility, a problem in common with their home. Pleasingly, Edgar walked all the way back home, via a few rocky bits of beach in case there were any useful crab bits floating about.