Inquest day, ie yet more teacher training tomorrow (they get to go on more trains than I do) so the weekend starts here. Incense days are all very well, but every time there's an incest day Bud or Jof loses another holiday day.
Re the infant latrine villain, the junior school has its own privy demon: my spy on the inside tells me of a secret pooey wall-dauber. Maybe kids are obsessed with all things scatological.
The end of school was an opportunity. Jof was going shopping for booze of all nations for the PuddleMummies' meeting tomorrow so she gave us a lift to Southsea.
The bike fits into our new car boot easily so we took it out and I cycled off to the seafront. From there we travelled to Canoe Lake swingpark where we met Olivia, a schoolfriend with big glasses and I showed her how to quarkle, gyrate and show off my bottom all while sliding down the slide. I had an unaccompanied ride around the lake ("Don't fall in!") and raced a couple of other cyclists.
Then we went through the back streets to Health Centre swingpark on Prince Albert Road and did the spinning thing and the new swinging basket and investigated the new logs. Home was nearly 6pm, having got our share of fresh air.
Tonight I learned about the smell of gas which is a real danger if you put the oven on without lighting it. We avoided a house explosion by opening all the windows and waiting for the gas to disperse.
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