she happy, me happy

In the continuing search for shoes, after the internet mentioned that a new branch of Go Outdoors had opened in Granton and their specific bit of the internet indicated that they stocked something other shops had failed to stock which at least deserved a try before I go for the default option we popped along the estuaryfront this afternoon to go to the relevant shop to get the wingpiglet some fresh air, to inspect tents and things and to test the fit of the pertinent shoes. Which they didn't have, the specific model I was after being apparently subject to a delivery failure of some sort. They might possibly have something useful tent-wise for next year and might conceivably be a source of replacement non-waterproof glubs when my current set thin down a bit more but they lacked anything really useful-looking bicycle-wise and didn't even have a baby changing facility, though it was empty enough for no-one to interfere when Nicky just used a spare bit of floor. I'd read a report which indicated that the staff displayed a slight give-a-fuck deficit but the only one I had to speak to immediately knew the answer to my question, albeit the simple question of the presence or not of a particular shoe-type. A seven-mile round trip with no money spent in the middle of it counts as a win even if it means that my feet still leak, especially when we discovered a source of nice cakes and tasty soup on the way back.