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Wednesday 14 December 1994

It was a bit naughty, but I wanted to reward my loverly class and took them away for the day with a bunch of mums and one dad and a granddad on the bus to our old stamping ground at Spring Beach where we swam and barbecued and revisited the quarry and flew kites and sang wacky songs all the way home on the bus.

Then I put on the answering machine and went to bed early and read feminist literature for five minutes, indulged in a Cleo -type fantasy then fell asleep.

And then woke up, guilt-striken, to write my diary and clean my teeth.

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