When we were on Oleanna, Tom rode a bicycle every now and again. On finishing riding it he would fold it up and slot it into it’s home. Here I could sniff to smell where he’d been in the outside.
This inside has a black bicycle that he folds up too. It doesn’t have a slot so seems to get moved around lots. It doesn’t smell as good as the red one does, that’s Scarboreugh for you.
The other day Mountain Tom came round with a different sort of bicycle. It look broken to me, maybe even very poorly as it laid on it’s back, forks in the air. Mountain Tom gave Tom a wheel, which he soon attached, that looked better.
But apparently it is still a poorly bicycle. It has had to go to hospital as it’s chain is seized and breaks need sorting before they break Tom. I tried it out for size. I think the handle bars are a touch too high for me as I can’t quite reach the peddles, maybe they can adjust this at the hospital.
She says it is Tom’s grown up bicycle and not for me at all! Spoil sport!! It doesn’t seem to fold up, She says that it doesn’t need too as this inside has lots of space. Apparently grown up Bicycles have their own front doors too.