Little Sis Post

Hi everyone, it's Nicky. Orio - Greg - told me I could put up a post if I'd like to, so here I am. Oh, Sherlock says that some of you are new, and I should explain that I call Lestrade 'Orio' because when we were little, and in Italy, everyone called him Gregorio - which naturally was shortened to Orio.

Once again we're staying in London, and having a lovely time with Orio, John and the boys. Today Orio has to work, but we've all spent the past two days together, going to museums, galleries...and shops. Lots of shops.

Catering, Critters and Chaos

There was a lot of the first, a few of the second, and really none of the last.

My few fears about Christmas just being a bit...overwhelming... were completely unfounded. There was lots to do, lots of help, and so many of us that it didn't matter if anyone needed to get away and have a bit of a break.

I called my mum, after about ten minutes of just sitting on the stairs wondering if I should or not. I've no idea if she was trying to be polite, and not mentioning what happened before, or if she genuinely didn't remember, or if she just wanted to pretend. Anyway, it wasn't mentioned. We wished each other a happy Christmas. I'm glad I called, although I don't know if I want to confront her about it some other time. Anyway, for now, doesn't matter.

All the food came out great - there was too much, but there always is, and it meant anyone who got hungry later (Sherlock) could graze on the leftovers.

Sherlock's favourite thing, without a doubt, was this:

It's not just food that you can have with ice cream - it's food you can set on fire and have with ice cream. We had to pull the curtains to get the full effect of the flaming brandy, and we had to do it all three times!

It was a really fun day (And who knew that Mrs Hudson could wolf whistle that loudly?) and I really wish I could be with them today, instead of being at work - still, only today and tomorrow, then another two days off to spend with Nicky and her crew, who are coming to stay (and hit the sales - rather them than me!)

Merry Christmas

It's an hour before Christmas Day here - I know some of you are already up and enjoying the day, whilst others have yet to bed down, but I thought I'd put this up firstly to wish all of you a very Happy Christmas (whether you choose to celebrate it or not). And I hope you all have a lovely day. Obviously feel free to leave greetings to one another in the comments.

I daresay there will be a certain amount of commenting on here tomorrow about the chaos that surely awaits us here...it would be wrong not to let you in on it all.

But right now, this flat has finally descended into the most peaceful it ever gets.

Wonder if any of us have been good enough this year to get a visit from St Nick?

And here's a shot from when we were decorating the tree. There is, unbelievably, more things on it now than in this picture.

Who says Health And Safety isn't fun?

What else would I be doing at 4am apart from issuing all the day shift with the following? (I didn't write all of it - someone sent it to me. I just made it a touch more relevant.)It was a reward to myself, for clearing an entire in-tray of paperwork.

All officers planning to dash through the snow in a one horse open sleigh, going over the fields and laughing all the way are advised that a Risk Assessment will be required addressing the safety of an open sleigh for members of the public. Please include assessments for use of audio-visual active warning systems and the effect this may have upon the horse(s). This assessment must also consider whether it is appropriate to use only one horse for such a venture, particularly where there are multiple passengers. Please note that permission and/or warrants must also be obtained, either in writing from landowners before their fields may be entered or from a magistrate. To avoid offending those not participating in celebrations, we would request that laughter is moderate only and not loud enough to be considered a noise nuisance.

Benches, stools and orthopaedic chairs are now available for collection by any shepherds planning or required to watch their flocks at night. While provision has also been made for remote monitoring of flocks by CCTV cameras from a centrally heated shepherd observation hut, all users of this facility are reminded that an emergency response plan must be submitted to account for known risks to the flocks. Please remember to book out all PPE in advance and return it in good condition.

The angel of the Lord is additionally reminded that, prior to shining his/her glory all around, she/he must confirm that all shepherds are wearing appropriate Personal Protective Equipment to account for the harmful effects of UVA, UVB and the overwhelming effects of Glory.

Following last year's well-publicised case, all officers are advised that Equal Opportunities legislation prohibits any comment with regard to the redness of any part of Mr R Reindeer. Further to this, exclusion of Mr R Reindeer from reindeer games will be considered discriminatory and disciplinary action will be taken against those found guilty of this offence.

While it is acknowledged that gift bearing is a common practice in various parts of the world, particularly the Orient, everyone is reminded that the bearing of gifts is subject to Hospitality Guidelines and all gifts must be registered. This applies regardless of the individual, even royal personages. It is particularly noted that direct gifts of currency or gold are specifically precluded, while caution is advised regarding other common gifts such as aromatic resins that may evoke allergic reactions.

Finally, in the recent instance of the infant found tucked up in a manger without any crib for a bed, Social Services have been advised and will be arriving shortly.

Merry Christmas.

Completely untrue of this Christmas...

But perhaps true tonight. Nights at this time of year do seem to be either completely lonely or far too busy.

So, this is my absolutely favourite Christmas song. I know it's bleak, and sad and all those things, but there's just something about it that really gets me.



Today we need to get everything to decorate the Christmas cake, so we can do that tomorrow, then Christmas Eve will be all the food prep we can do for the big day to make life easier.

Presents...errr... did people want presents? Sherlock? Mycroft? Johnny? How about some Scotland Yard stationary (actually, Sherlock would probably want that...)
I think we might go and drop in on Molly before I start work, Sherlock's made her a card and it would be a good time.

Love you John Danger Hotson

Bloody love you andf you're the best thng that's ever hapened to me



Hope I dicdn't wake you
shhh

Sing you Folsam prison tomorrow, promise, Johnny.

Look at the baubles on that...

As you all know, we braved the shops at the weekend. And we wanted to start a bit of a tradition, of sorts - so we each decided we'd get a bauble for the tree. And then, every year, well get a new one each (obviously there will be other tree decorations too, but these four will be special, each year, and hopefully bring back lots of pleasant memories each year.)

So...let the tacky decorations commence!

The way to a man's heart...

Kholly asked for a recipe, Mycroft is helping me get organised, I defy even sprout-haters amongst you not to like sprouts cooked the way I'm going to cook them, and I still haven't found a decent panettone.

Yes, this post is almost all about food.

Can't make it all alone, I've built my dreams around you

Sherlock finished school for the holidays today - and this evening had a show. I got there just in time, after being stuck at a crime scene all afternoon, watching the clock tick down... There was singing, dancing, and some truly amazing violin playing from him. Everyone really enjoyed it. He looked positively angelic in his sparkly wings.

He'd played us the pieces he was going to play while everyone was singing already, but he hadn't played us one piece - another boy sang, really beautifully (he's a choir boy), and Sherlock played. It was just astounding. Sherlock said it would be okay because he "knew he wouldn't get it wrong"...it's good to know he trusts other people sometimes! Although he can't understand why you'd want to be good at something that you can grow out of...

Today is also something of an anniversary. On this day last year, Sherlock had his first brush with the law, and turned up at Scotland Yard with a PC having been accused of shoplifting from Harrods. Outing me in the process...Happily that was all sorted out... and led to me becoming err...rather better acquainted with John('s sofa), than I had been previously.

I also arrived home to an envelope telling me I'm officially a free man. Dissolution done. Finally. I am a divorcee. Dissolutionee? Very happy man.

A weekend of celebrations and festivities await.

You help me to forget to play my role

Had a pretty boring day today. Lots of waiting around in court as people got their act together.

The bloke we arrested the other day, for the 'Stinky House' case, pleaded guilty to manslaughter. But we want him for murder. So now that's settled, after far more waiting about than there should have been, we have to wait for a court date, when a jury will decide.

So, in the course of today, I've had far too much time to think about my mum, and her jealous drunken ranting (I'm fairly sure jealousy is where it lies. I have everything she's always wanted. And that can't seem very fair, really. I do feel bad for her, just because I understand how horrible it can be to be lonely.)

And I...faced a few home truths. The person you see in the mirror isn't the person everyone else sees, is it? Quite the opposite, in fact.

Do you believe in Father Christmas?

I was going to start posting a few of my favourite Christmas songs. And after today, this one seemed apt. I'm afraid I go for the downbeat songs...not many of mine are happy jingly choices.






As some of you will have read, Sherlock decided to hold a seminar in the school playground today - Why Santa Can't Exist (You Idiots) - (okay, that last bit was implied). He told all the little kids that there was no way Father Christmas could get around the world fast enough and all sorts of things, all based in scientific fact.

Of course, they're all intelligent children, so their beliefs were ripped to shreds in front of their eyes. Poor things.

Mrs T told Sherlock off a bit, he tried to get me to arrest her...ah, happy days.

My arrest went well today. Caught the bloke, not only for murder, but also possession with intent. An added bonus. Downside was we had to batter through his door. Which was very hard work. Feel like I've wrenched my arms off.

But John is about to kiss that better. Whilst I return the favour and kiss his bum better where he took the boys ice skating and fell over a lot. It won't be a chore...

Look to the future now, It's only just begun

I've spent too much of today on the phone to work and not nearly enough helping out with the boys.

They found some wrapping paper when we were out - it was a photo of bookshelves. So they carefully cut them out and made us some literary paper chains. Very highbrow.


They also got the basic start of a wreath. Mycroft is for tasteful decoration involving ribbon and possibly buying some small baubles. Sherlock is all about tinsel, glitter, spiders, ninjas, stars...the list goes on. And there's trouble brewing over what goes on top of the tree.

I'm not quite sure when we'll get the rest of the decorations and the tree. I don't mind waiting until next weekend, really.

The office is already filling with bad taste decorations. dangling about everywhere, baubles and tinsel in the cheese plants, gaudy santas on the doors. Completely incongruous sparkly banners around the case boards, surround photos of dead bodies.

'Tis the season to be jolly...

Insert witty title here.

I was going to answer Anon's question from ages ago, but I think I've lost the use of my brain.

I feel like...I don't even know what I feel like.

The Murder investigation is on, and after a day of talking to nosey neighbours I think I've already got a list of suspects, and am pretty happy that my prime suspect is a decent shout. Just got to find the evidence.

I almost want to go in tomorrow and get started on it, but I've left the team work to do and I don't want to miss Mycroft's first day home, especially when John is feeling...under the weather.

There's also got to be some point at which my brain decides to shut down to such an extent that my body goes into stand-by. I mean, there just isn't enough coffee in the world. And I keep thinking I should cut down, while all the time I just up it instead.

Sherlock seems to be winding up to have some sort of epic meltdown about school, too, now Mycroft's finished. I'd almost be scared, if I had the energy.

And I completely forgot what I was doing earlier. Serving out dinner, doing John's killer soup of doom, which has about the same heat level as the surface of the sun, I licked the spoon.

I almost swore in front of Sherlock. Happily my tongue had been melted to a useless lump of flesh and I couldn't. I can't believe anyone would eat that stuff. It was pure torture. There's no flavour, apart from pain.

Friends may come and go, but enemies accumulate...

Another day in the Stinky House of Stuff. Although today was less stinky because now all the animals have been removed the heating has been turned off, and it's pretty cold out, so the smell level has decreased. And we found some really expensive items. I'm really unsure whether we're looking at murder or death by misadventure here.

There was another Big Wing Op today. Domestic violence and hate crimes. Wonder if the Commissioner's been reading this blog...seemed oddly fitting.

Anyway, over 150 arrests. It all goes with a massive campaign against domestic violence we're having. 1 in every 5 murders in London is domestic violence.

So...yes, today I went back to the court, paid my money, made my choice. Now I just have to wait for them to find a moment to sign it all off and get the Final Order posted out to me (and to Bry, obviously).

When my fist clenches, crack it open, before I use it and lose my cool

One of the best songs...ever, really. Brilliant. Bit of a theme tune for my youth. Except it would've been 'behind brown eyes' then.

We've had a great day today. I took the bike out and John brought Sherlock up so they could both have a go on it. John's getting a lot more confident in his riding - and smoother. Which is nice for my nerves. And we gave Sherlock a few rides, too, which got him very excited. He keeps claiming he's 'almost' big enough to ride on his own. Hah.

Now it's rapidly getting dark, so we're all tucked up warm at home again. Sherlock wants to decorate the house, but for now we've pacified him by letting him make decorations, but not put them up until Mycroft's back next weekend.

I'm unsure exactly how glittery spiders are directly related to Christmas, but who cares? He's happy and content, and we're getting a rest. Except he also wants a Sunday Roast for tonight, so I really should start cooking...

After I've taught Danger how to sing the song....

Understand that sexuality is as wide as the sea.

 Understand that sexuality is as wide as the sea. Understand that your morality is not law. Understand that we are you. Understand that if we decide to have sex whether safe, safer, or unsafe, it is our decision and you have no rights in our lovemaking.

Derek Jarman

So, after all of yesterday's drama today was pretty calm.

We made pancakes for breakfast, then Sherlock went down to Mrs Hudson and John and I headed to Harrow via the pet shop. We met up with Mycroft, Anthea and the dogs in the park. Presented the dogs with their new chews - those big weird marrowbone things, and a chewy/throwing toy for them each. They seemed satisfied.

Never regret yesterday. Life is in you today, and you make your tomorrow.

Today has been...pretty hellish, really.

I mean, it started fine. And then I saw John's post.

It just...it's not what you expect, hearing that Mycroft's been in a fight. I mean, I don't know, I thought there had to be some mistake. And then I wondered what could possibly have made Mycroft feel the need to resort to using his fists.

Like REReader said, it was a bit like a punch in the gut, finding out it was because some of the boys had been saying things to him about me and John. I suppose we should have thought about it. It just seems so...nice...there, and times are changing. But not fast enough, it seems. So, along with their cuts and bruises both the boys are being punished. I'm...torn. I don't want Mycroft to be put in detention for what he did, because he was just standing up for himself, and us. But I can see why the school have to do it. I hope they also do something about educating the boys to be more tolerant and stop that sort of bullying.

I'm not exactly doing well on the 'not feeling guilty' front. If I hadn't popped that stupid wheelie then I wouldn't have been asked to go in. If I hadn't thought it would be funny to drag John along with me then I doubt anyone would ever have thought anything about us. Not that that in any way makes it our fault that some homophobic little shit started on Mycroft, but we could have been more subtle. I don't suppose they even know what anyone else's parents/guardians look like.

And whilst I'm deeply proud - and touched - that he would stand up to anyone on our behalf, as well as on his own, I don't condone fighting. As I said, I don't think either John or I can blame him, because we both got in our fair share of fights when we were younger. And maybe now I've gone too far the other way.

The thing that changed me was that incident I wrote about a while ago - when I got into trouble and could have been thrown out of the force. While I was suspended I went to see Nicky, and Mum was there. I told her what had happened and she just said "I always knew you'd turn out just like your father". And I was so determined not to be that I changed myself. I don't know. Don't feel like I know anything tonight.

And finally, because Sherlock is being completely wonderful at trying to cheer us up, he showed me this just now and I thought it might make a few of you smile.

 

I've no idea if it's real, but Sherlock is desperate to see whatever it was that was there.

The first day of the rest of my life...

Well, that was the month that was...

I didn't think I'd manage to do the post per day - I didn't think you'd all still be reading by the end! I definitely didn't think I'd manage to find a title for each post.

But wow, it's gone so fast!

Yesterday...well, thanks, to all of you. And for those of you who said that what I'd written had helped a bit, that really helps me, so thank you for letting me know. And...well, yeah, I think it was probably good for me. Probably.

However, there are still some questions remaining from the month of living dangerously...

Anon, I will get to answering your question. I'm just not in the right frame of mind, given the discussions today. So instead I'll answer Small Hobbit's question.

You're obviously very good with children - have you ever wished you had a child of your own?

and i'm not too old to rock and roll, and i'm not really scared of turning thirty...

Piplover asked a very good question: If, when they're older, and they asked, you could give one piece of advise to the boys on sex, what would it be? Not necessarily based on your own experience, but something you wish you had known, or someone had told you when you were younger.

So...I shall try to answer. It's a bit...difficult. And I talk a bit about sexual assault, so I don't want to upset anyone - dont read it if you don't want.

Taking me back down the road that leads back to you, 29 Palms - I feel the heat of your desert heart

As most of you will know, I crawled home (not quite literally, although it was close) just before lunchtime with a crippling migraine. Half of me was sad that John wasn't here, because it's nice to be with him and he'd have been all lovely and caring to me. But half of me was glad that for once the flat was empty and quiet and I could be pathetic in private.

Anyway, feel a lot better now.

So, as none of you have fessed up and asked a question on Lestallion's Upstanding Column of Knowledge, I'll have to talk about the next best thing to sex. Bikes.

Rider asked:

What was your first bike Lestrade?

I'm not your average beat boy, I'm not your rebel guy, You want to make us hated, You want to make us slide, no clause 28

Well, the video is a...piece of history? I may have worn things like that and danced in a similar style. Possibly. I couldn't possibly say. And only 15 years later did they realise the song was right and final repeal the act...



I'm trying to remember any other questions I've been asked. Some of them do have very short answers, so I've sort of not answered them.

Did I ever want to play a different musical instrument? No, not really. I've played the drums a few times, and it's okay, but the guitar had it all for me, really.

What would I do with a year off...I literally have no idea. I mean, not with my life the way it is. I suppose...I suppose I'd love to just head off, on my bike, with John and just...no plan, no destination, just following our noses. Maybe down through Africa, or right over to Asia - that would be amazing. But then so would a huge road trip around America or something. But obviously that can't happen with the boys. And I'd probably always fret I wasn't at work, if I'm honest!

As for who I'd have dinner with...I honestly can't think of anyone. Which sounds awful! But I'm not exactly up on history, and...well, I can't think of one person. I can think of hundreds, but I don't really know enough about any of them to know if they're good choices!

So, briefly, Nameless said: But, for the record, I for one would not have a fit of the vapours if you chose to share your most ridiculous/funny/OMG-I-can't-believe-I-did-that sexual encounter with us...

On twenty-seven street nothing will keep you warm, everything will bring you harm

I've been researching, slightly, piercings. As always, there's stories from every side of the argument. Some people say it really hurts, others say it doesn't. I think I'd be all right. I can't pretend I enjoy pain that much, but I think I'd enjoy the results!

And I've found a whole world of different 'jewellery' that you can put in to keep it as discreet as possible when you want - weird soft 'filaments' of see through plasticy stuff, to keep the piercings open when you don't want to wear shiny metal bars or rings. If that had existed back in the day I'd probably already have it done. So now my main concern lies with healing time...I don't want to have painful nipples forever. And I definitely don't want to risk injury via fighting some suspect. I think work will always require very discreet jewellery. Which is fine once healed and I can change it. Less ideal during the first few months. I suppose I'll just ask whoever does it (if I get it done) for advice.

New poll up, by the way.

Question today: DW asked 'Big spoon or little spoon' and then qualified it with 'both in bed or sprawling'. I shall admit to not knowing what that meant at first...I've never seen it referred to, really. But anyway, obvious once you Google it know.

I emptied every bottle when I poured I never missed, Had bloodshot eyes at twenty five, or was it twenty six.

Today was great fun.

Sally and her sister dropped off the kids, gave us quick lessons in bottles, nappies, how long naps were for/what times, essential teddy bears, that sort of thing. There were a few tears when they left - as we'd been warned there would be, but some swift distractions and we were all good again.

Sherlock looked slightly horrified.

But we had a great day - some of which is catalogued on Danger's Post. And it was sort of hard to let them go - although Sherlock didn't think so.

So, as a result of me commenting that the baby had taken a liking to my ear, and that I was glad I didn't still wear earrings, Nameless asked:

would you ever get your ears pierced again? Do you have any other piercings? Ever been tempted/likely to get anything pierced?

And as no one has chosen to ask further questions on Lestallion's Love-In (Which seems to be taking on more titles as the day goes on), I shall answer that.

Did I tell you I was 25, and did I mention that I loved you since the other night.

Two twenty five titles in a day. Gosh.

Right. Well. Let's go with Anon's question.

Have you ever been attracted to a woman? Or if the answer is no, which would be a short story, do you prefer to bottom or top with a man?

You really don't have to click to read the rest. I'll be over here, waiting for a barrage of questions from Sherlock. Or John. Or you lot.

And it's twenty five to midnight and fifteen miles of track.

The almost-quote for today's post was 'Is there anything in the future that can possibly console us for not being always twenty-five?'

Which didn't make the cut because I'm happier now than I was at 25.

Our talk went fine. Some of them seemed interested, some bored, some asked questions, others sat in silence. The usual. If it makes even one of them think a bit harder about road safety it's a good thing. And I think they learnt a few thigns about the causes of accidents - and the causes of injuries/deaths in accidents. So.

(some of them asked a lot more questions about the bike, afterward, than about the road safety, during...not quite what I was hoping for!)

Then we had lunch with Mycroft, which was great. I hope he didn't mind being seen spending his lunch hour with a couple of old blokes, cramping his style.

And...and I started all this for a purpose and now I don't want to go through with it, which makes me feel more of an idiot than I felt already. Think I need to go for a run or something before fetching Sherlock. So I'll answer a question later on.

There's twenty-four reasons To admit that I'm wrong With all my excuses Still twenty-four strong

First, congratulations to John. I'm sure you've already seen his news. He will be brilliant, I'm certain. The people of London are lucky to have him working for them. (As we are lucky to have him the rest of the time).


Second, in comments some of you will have seen that we had a bit of a result today - a huge police op running all over London today collared someone we've had a warrant out for for a while now, so very very pleased about that.

Thirdly...thirdly. Question. I suppose it makes sense to carry on from yesterday.

Nameless said, after yesterday's post: OK, please count "Why/when/how/etc has it seemed like you might have had to give up policing?" as my next question. I'm burning with curiosity here. 

Twenty-three and it's so sad to me, you tell the world I'm dead to you.

As most of you know, Sherlock clambered into bed with us last night, all sad and wanting hugs. He was pretty warm, so John sorted out medicine, I got him some water, and we wrapped him up inbetween us. He wriggled. A lot. He always does, but feeling all out of sorts and uncomfortable and feverish he was even more wriggly than usual.

We're just glad he seeks us out when he needs us.

So, early this morning when I dragged myself onto the freezing fog filled streets, the world looked a bit like this:

That's Westminster bridge and NOT Big Ben (Sherlock insists I don't call it that, because that's not its name, even though that's what you'll probably all know it as...) It's the clock tower of the Palace of Westminster.

Did fairly tedious work all day - essential, but tedious - drank too much coffee, fretted over two of my favourite boys, came home, cooked dinner, tried to persuade my boyfriend he is far, far from useless and am currently being sat on by Sherlock, who is wrapped in a blanket and still in his pyjamas.

Today's question:

DW asked "Why/how you became a cop."

And I am two-and-twenty, And oh, ’tis true, ’tis true.

Blog title courtesy of my darling boyfriend.

Just a quick post, as poor Sherlock is a bundle of misery on the sofa. He's got a bit of a temperature, and apparently Mrs T said he seemed subdued this afternoon. Happily we know an excellent doctor...

John's also had a bit of a low day, so it's hugs all around tonight.

Thought I'd knock off some of the quicker questions -

Favourite thing to have Marmite on? Hot buttered crumpets. Amazing. Just enough to make your mouth sting a bit, oozing out on a sea of butter and soaked right into the crumpet.


Have I been to see Rocky Horror Show - no, sorry!

How nosy to I think you all are...In my job, being nosy is an attribute, and I think you're all very restrained.


And what would I like to cook that I've never had time for... well, I've cooked a lot of things. I dont generally follow recipes much, I tend to just make it up as I go along. But one day I'd like to try a 3 or 5 bird roast. If I can find enough people to eat it. And a big enough oven.

I bet Greg the Florist's new castle has a big oven...

Twenty-one and strong as I can be, I know what freedom means to me

Today was a real rollercoaster of emotions. We made an arrest on the case - our second. The first was immediate upon discovering the body. This finally meant we believed we were ready to release the body for burial. It's...hard. There aren't many places in the UK that still bury bodies in communal pauper's graves. Some boroughs of London do. I think that might be where that child ends up. None of the relatives seemed in a position to do much else.

All we can do is put them in touch with as many support networks and charities as we know of.

Another case where the law may have been served, but no one feels much better about it.

Anyway... enough of being down.

There was a great call for The Cow in the Pond story that Sally mentioned. How she knows about it I don't know - she was probably still in primary school. Or school, anyway.

So.

There are twenty years to go, And many friends I hope. Though some may hold the rose some hold the rope

Firstly, a misty picture from the park this morning.

 Having a lovely day. Mainly walking, cooking with Mycroft, eating, restraining Danger from running down to the O2 and jumping on Federicorn, air guitaring with Sherlock, all the things Sundays should be about.

Last night was great. John had arranged dinner out, which was lovely and peaceful and romantic. So then I dragged him off to a loud, dirty, sweaty club, which was more raunch than romance.

Four police officers were stabbed yesterday, up in Harrow. A bloke they were trying to talk to ran into a butchers and grabbed a knife. Three of them are still in hospital, the fourth has been released. Whenever I hear about things like that it makes me so angry that we've only got the money to send out single-person patrols. It took four of them to subdue him, and all sustained serious injuries. Imagine if it had just been one officer. Imagine the havoc he could have caused on a busy Saturday shopping street.

Anyway, anger about the job aside, and trying to convince my idiotic brain that just because one bloke with a knife has been arrested in Harrow it doesn't actually mean Harrow will now become a mecca for all madmen with knives, let's get on with the post..

.....

All I ever wanted to do was lie around in bed with you, I was only nineteen, only nineteen.

Innie asked what I think of when I hear 'Luxurious' or 'indulgent'.

So, lying in bed this morning, chatting to John about what to do all day, it struck me that that, now, is sort of both. Just being in bed, with nothing specific to do.

I love the feel of soft cotton on my skin, especially when it's warm. I really like being comfy and warm. It makes me feel safe.

Whenn I was little and all the madness that was our house got too much for me I'd climb into the cupboard where Mum stored the sheets and towels and stuff - warm from the immersion heater - and just burrow into it all. The house was often cold, we were often cold, and this was like a little safe cocoon where I could escape everything.

So although it doesn't sound much, I think of warmth and softness as being luxurious now. But not in a fur-rug-in-front-of-a-fire way. I mean, that might be nice, I don't know. But I prefer to be wrapped up in something. It's why I like old baggy jeans and fleecy soft hoodies, I suppose.


Indulgence for me is all about food and drink.

Dessert wine is truly indulgent. Rich and sweet and perfect. Or really good coffee. Perfectly cooked meat, and most important, time and good company to enjoy it all.

Time, I think, is the most luxuriant and indulgent thing of all. And something my job frequently drives home is the fact you need to enjoy it whenever you've got it. As such, today has been a perfect mix of a bit of a lie in (thank you Mycroft), a long, luxurious breakfast of pastries and coffee, then ice skating and a wander around the Natural History Museum. The best company, the nicest day. Wonderful.

As I posted the other day - "Time Goes, you say? Ah no! Alas time stays....we go.'

I got a baby's brain and an old man's heart took eighteen years to get this far

You know some times you just feel...safe and content? At the moment I feel like that. It's taken a long time to feel like this again. In fact, happened very rarely in my life.

Mycroft's here, there's a very heavy dog drooling slightly on one of my feet, Danger's sprawled over my other leg, Sherlock's drawing something on the floor next to another dog. It's just a sea of calm and contentedness and dogs in our living room.

Mycroft asked about the case earlier. Assured me I could talk about it if it would help. Often hard to remember he's the teenager.

They've been doing a lot of things at school, about talking about your problems. Sensible, I suppose, given they're all suddenly living together and away from home and all that.

So... Don't read this bit if you don't want. 

But I won't say anything graphic. As with most cases involving children, it's not a stranger that's committed this crime. And the original investigation made some serious errors. In my view, those errors were unforgivable. However, it was - is - a difficult case. The child's body wasn't found for some time - was concealed, in fact, by members of the family. So it's not...oh, whatever I say sounds callous or too gruesome to tell you. You can all imagine what I mean.

The report was hard enough to read. Visiting the pathologist yesterday, seeing the body...it's just something that's hard to deal with no matter how long you've been in the job, or how many bodies you've seen. The combination of factors... Anyway, talking to John yesterday afterward helped. Baking with Sherlock was a brilliant distraction - as are all of you, and the silly comments here, and Lestallion. It really does all help to pull me out of myself, move from work to home, be a nicer person to be around, I hope. So...well, yeah, thanks to you all. Thanks to Sherlock. Thanks to John, especially, for letting me fill his head with thoughts he doesn't need to be having, and for making it okay for me not to hold it all together for a few minutes, and react like a human, not like a police officer. Taken a while, but because of his patience and understanding and caring I do feel safe telling him most things, and letting my emotions show.

Now onto today's question. - I'm sorry, I'm sure someone asked me this, but I can't find the comment. So shout out if it was you. (And please, ask more questions! We're only just over halfway through the month!)

So, paraphrased, it was something like 'What are some of your favourite places in London.'

It takes seventeen muscles to smile, and forty three to frown.

So I give my face a good workout every day.


Because work is completely horrible, lets move on to another question. Well, half a question, because I've already answered the other half.


Nameless asked about Danny and about the fire at our house. So I've answered the Danny bit...now onto the other bit.


I thought it might be hard to write about, but actually, because it doesn't feel at all like it happened to me, it's not really. Feels like something I watched on TV or something.

And I'll do anything For my sweet sixteen

Sorry, no question to answer tonight. Barely even a blog post.

Work is hard right now - difficult case, really taking it out of all of us. And I wasn't exactly on top form to begin with.

John's plotting something. He's persuaded Sally to babysit Sherlock and Mycroft (well, Mycroft is fairly self-sufficient.) I mean, I know why we're going out - or think I do - but no idea where or anything. I hope she survives. She's a good sergeant.

John is, as always, being amazing and supportive and just...brilliant. Despite that, I'm finding it slightly hard to cope with...everything, really. Which is hard to admit. I'm just used to being able to hide away on my own and that's not an option now.

And I imagine it's better for me to crawl into bed and have a hug than hide away cuddling the Scotch bottle anyway.

Speaking of which, I'm going to drag myself (and hopefully John) to bed.

Fifteen minutes of fame

The first part of my day was hilarious, if...surprising. My team really did buy/aquire a pony tail (I'll leave it to your imagination regarding how one...'wears' it.) and a riding crop. I had to laugh. I mean, I bring it upon myself with this blog, right?

And then everything went rapidly downhill because we've been given a case that's all gone pretty wrong. We've inherited it because the Super isn't happy with the investigation. It's a horrible case, and it's secondhand so all the evidence isn't as we'd like it - no chance to visit crime scenes, none of that. Anyway, don't want to think about it.


So, leading on from my first paragraph, Anon Without A Name said... "If you care to talk about it at some point, I'd be interested to know what impact you think that blogging so openly about your life has had on you."

It takes only one drink to get me drunk. The trouble is, I can't remember if it's the thirteenth or the fourteenth.

This is Sherlock and the title isn't mine Lestrade said it had to have fourteen in it so he put it on before I could write my bit.

The pond is good and there are already insects and things on the water but we couldn't see anything swimming in it, but it's still a bit cloudy from all the new gravel and everything an Mrs T says we have to be patient because it's winter soon and spring will be the time when everything really wants to move in.

Lestrade and John say I can keep updating and I'll put pictures up too.


Right, now my turn again. Thought today it would be fitting to answer Piplover's question: what is your favorite season? I love autumn, summer and winter, but spring is by far my favorite time of year. What do you love most about your favorite season?

Thirteen. (Un)lucky for some.

Had a great day today. The pond is pretty much done, as far as we're concerned. Up to nature now – hope someone moves in and enjoys it!

Yesterday was brilliant too -fireworks on the river, then dinner out. It's been great weather and the mist last night seemed very Autumnal. Sherlock fell asleep on the way home, and even slept in a bit this morning.

So all this got me thinking about what my life was like a year ago, as REReader asked.

A jury consists of twelve persons chosen to decide who has the better lawyer.

Lindsay and Desert Wanderer both had great stories of not-so-intelligent criminals. So I thought I'd do a post about some of the top excuses I've been given. When Sal saw that, she insisted on getting in on it too, so she's emailed me some of these.

When I was first a detective, we'd caught a bloke who had tricked his way into a business and stolen a large amount of cash. The crime itself wasn't stupid - he'd had to blag his way in, keep it up, get the cash and leave. We had tip offs and some really quite poor video evidence - but we were pretty sure he was our man - however, you never know when someone will have a good enough brief to get them off. His face on the video really wasn't very clear.

It helped our case a lot that his brief had obviously told him to dress smartly and make a good impression on the court. Because he wore exactly the same suit, shirt and tie as he'd worn during the offence. Afterward he just shrugged and said he only had one set of smart clothes...

***

When late morning rolls around and you're feeling a bit out of sorts, don't worry; you're probably just a little eleven o'clockish.

So, I was going to do a post on 'stupid things criminals have said to me', but Sal wanted in on it, so she's going to send me some to include, and anyway, something happened which...prompted me to answer a different one.

Nameless didn't really know what to ask, but part of it was about my little half-brother, Danny.

Danny's s younger than me. He's my half brother. He's got a little brother, Sam. Danny and I don't get on - have never got on, really. His Dad didn't really like me much, and I certainly didn't like him. But Mum married him anyway, told me I'd come round when I got to know him. I didn't. He got worse, not better. So that was the start of Danny and I not getting along.

Then he got older, and Mum got worse, and...well, he didn't like me telling him what to do. So we argued a lot, we occasionally had fights. Probably a bit more than occasionally. It seemed like occasionally at the time, but now I know that most families didn't fight quite as much as we seemed to. Anyway, it didn't ever really get much better. I tried, a bit, but...well, some things seem insurmountable. The differences between Danny and I seem that way.

Today sort of highlighted that. Mum called, asking me if I could help Danny. Because he'd been arrested. So... well, I can't. I mean, there's nothing I can do for him. And I don't even know if I'd want to. Not because we don't get along, but because Danny's a mess, and maybe this will be a wake up call.

I wish it hadn't happened, because I wish his wife and kids hadn't been scared, I wish he hadn't cheated on her, I wish when he had he'd have acted sensibly and worked things out so at least he could see them all, peacefully. Not turn up outside their house and end up with her calling the police on him because he wouldn't stop harassing them and just leave (he didn't hurt them - his wife called Mum and told her what had happened. No one's spoken to Danny). But maybe this will make him realise he's the one with the problem, not them. I don't know. I've spoken to Nicky, and she's gone to see Mum. And there's nothing I can do except wait.

He's an idiot. But we're all idiots sometimes. I hope he learns something from all this.

By the time I get to ten, I'm right back in your arms again.

(don't judge the song lyric today. Google provided.)

Today's been...the sort of day I don't even want to talk about.

So I wanted to answer a happy question. (I need more questions, or we'll move onto PACE rules and regs. You've been warned.)

X said:


Since John told us all about your first date, I'm going to be greedy/nosy and inquire into your and John's first kiss.

Or, alternately, YOUR first kiss. :D I'm feeling soppy tonight, what can I say? 

Nine to five yeah they got you where they want to

Today's been trying to the extreme. A trial my team have a big part of was declared a mistrial today, because the accused's friends have been threatening jury members and witnesses. So that's just masses of time and money wasted, and it'll now go to retrial at some points, probably with fewer witnesses now wondering if it's worth testifying.

Happily I came home to Danger having cooked a lovely meal, which made my day infinitely better. Well, just coming home to him does that anyway, but with dinner ready it's even better.

Tink's turn today.

Tink:

If you could go back in time to give yourself advice, when would you go back to and what advice would you give?

Would you ever let Sally make an actual guest post, as opposed to her popping on when you've forgotten to log off?

Has work settled down on the 'he's dating a guy' thing?

Sleep is an eight-hour peep show of infantile erotica.

Anyone want to take bets on which day I'll fail to find a number-related quote?

So, yesterday was brilliant. Spent time resting, playing my guitar for Danger and we even found time for a jog in the afternoon.

Today was also nice, although the weather was a bit miserable. Let my bike take Danger for a ride again. I'm worried they like each other a little too much. Won't need me soon.

Anyway, onto today's subject. 'That Bar'.

Elizabeth said:

Lestrade: What was it like working in the bar? (You have to tell us what its name was! Or at least give us a list of possibilities and tell us when we've hit the right one.)

Fall seven times. Stand up eight.

Right. Onto a bit of a harder one today, because I'm all snug and content on the sofa and not writing this alone in my office.


X:

what's the worst date you've ever been on? Maybe apart from Bryan stories (unless you want) as, given what a right shit he is I'm sure there were some miserable dates.

Firstly - and not in the interests of defending him, but perhaps defending myself, dating Bryan was mainly fun, often brilliant, generally interesting, and overall a good time. I wouldn't have married him if he'd been a shit then. We went to a lot of gigs, art shows, out with friends, mad adventures.

It was years later all that stopped, long after the dates stopped.


Anyway, worst date - well, it wasn't a date, really. Didn't go on too many of those, if I'm honest. Not for lack of trying, but it wasn't easy once I'd joined up.

Whenever two people meet, there are really six people present.

Whenever two people meet, there are really six people present. There is each man as he sees himself, each man as the other person sees him, and each man as he really is.

(I'm determined that I will manage to get the correct number in every post title. Don't ask me why. I seriously fear I might fail. But this quote seemed rather apt.)

So, because I'm lazing on the sofa today, I thought I'd do a slightly difficult (technically, not emotionally) post today.


Desert Wanderer said... 
 If you were to make a mix tape for John, what would be on it?

And I couldn't just list tracks and then leave you to try to find them. So I'm going to try to use all my technical (lack of) expertise and put videos up. I hope this works.

There could be hundreds more. This is just a taste.

A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is braver five minutes longer.

 

 Small Hobbit said..

 

 

How about who your biking heroes are and why? 

 

There are current riders I like. Guy Martin, Valentino Rossi - Marco Simoncelli, until he died tragically a couple of weeks ago. And many more, for different reasons.

But when I was young, and for many many reasons, my hero was Joey Dunlop.

He was an amazing rider - he won three hat-tricks at the Isle of Man TT and I don't think there were many years he didn't win at least one race.

Sadly he died racing, in an accident in 2000. Gone but not forgotten - the most succesful rider at the TT now gets awarded the 'Joey Dunlop Cup'. 50,000 people showed up to his funeral. Bikers from all over the world, people from his home town, friends, colleagues, fans - everyone.

But he wasn't just a rider. He also worked tirelessly for charity. He never mentioned it, and ensured his trips all happened on the off-season for racing. He used his team truck for his bikes to drive to Bosnia or Romania, taking food and supplies, and helped Romanian orphanages. He said he was more proud of his charirty work than his racing, despite almost no one knowing he did it.

In 1986 he got an MBE for his services to racing. In 1996 he got an OBE for his charity work.

 

An amazing man.

 

There you go. As always, feel free to ask more questions. Comments help the nightshift go faster... (apologies if I disappear like I did last night. Those damn criminals demanding my time).

For the foreigners...

An incidental post for a picture.

As I'm here, thought those of you who aren't here might like an iconic London-by-night pcture.

Left-Right, The London Eye, or whatever it's called now, Palace of Westminster (The Houses of Parliament), the clock tower (Big Ben), and the Thames.

Note the lack of people we were looking for.

May the fourth be with you.

(Yes, I'm struggling with my numbered titles.)

So, this may not make as much sense as it ought to, because it's a hard question and I've only had one cup of coffee since waking up.

Desert Wanderer wanted to know something I'm unexpectedly grateful for.

Which...wow. Big question. i hope I've understood it correctly...maybe I'm just 'grateful', rather than 'unexpectedly grateful'. I dont know...anyway.

What immediately springs to mind is 'everything my life is right now'. But that's not very helpful.

I think you all know well enough how grateful I am to John and the boys, so I thought I'd cast slightly further afield.

Im grateful for my sister, Nicky. I don't quite know how to put it, but...if I was her, I'm not sure I'd be as supportive of me as she is.

I can virtually hear the rattle of her keyboard as she starts disagreeing with me...

We were a bit of a team growing up, but, being the oldest (and being a boy) I tended to be 'in charge' a lot. And I can see how some siblings wouldn't like that much. It's no secret Danny and I never exactly got on. It's hard enough being told what to do by your parents, let alone by your older brother.

I made a lot of mistakes, I made a lot of stupid decisions, I didn't know what I was doing most of the time, and in the end I left all that for her to deal with and ran away to London.

And still, despite all that, she's been the most supportive of me that you could ever wish for.

Even when times with Bryan were bad and I basically cut myself off from her - and everyone else - because I didn't want them to see what I had become, even then, she was there for me, and when we finally parted, she didn't say a word about what a shit I'd been to her, she was just still there for me.

So I didn't expect her to do any of that for me...and I'm very very grateful that she did. And that she gets on so well with John, and all of that. She's a fantastic sister.

Third time. Lucky.

Right, a couple today.

Do I intend to go to Pride with John and the boys again - Yes. Provided they're happy to, I would love to. I do have certain reservations about a lot of gay culture, and a lot of how gay culture is perceived. (for instance, I've never been 'proud' to be gay any more than any of you are proud to be straight, sexual, asexual, bi, or whatever you are. It's not a choice, it's not like other things I've worked hard to acheive and am therefore proud of. It's just how I am. I am, however, happy to honour the fight that people have fought to get us to a point where, whilst not universally accepted, being gay is no longer the issue it once was. Things are changing for the better, year on year.) and it's amazing to be able to walk the streets holding my boyfriend's hand, with the boys, and no one to even spare us a glance. Don't think there's any other day of the year we can do that.

And now, onto 'John's most endearing quality'.

Thought about this one a lot. He's got a lot of endearing qualities.

But the one I've picked to come out tops is that he cares. He cares about the important things. He cares about the people in his life. He cares about me, the boys, all of you. He cares about people he meets at the school gates, the security, the neighbours, people he sees in the street, my team, people on the news...the list could go on.

Sometimes I worry he cares too much. How can one person have that capacity? But he does. And I don't think he even realises it.

I don't want to compare him to Bryan - there really is no comparison to be had - but after the crash, when I was in hospital, he showed up, saw me, sat with me, found out about how I was doing, checked on Sally, and finally got me out of there to take care of at home.

Time before that, when I was in hospital after a bike crash, Bryan showed up in the evening, took my bank card, said there was no point me leaving hospital until I was capable of looking after myself and buggered off.

No, I don't know what I was doing with him either.

Anyway, there you go. Comments, questions, suggestions on a post card. Or in comments.

Seconds out

Right. Calliope, your turn.

What is your dream holiday destination. (possibly paraphrased - I only just looked at it and have already forgotten).

This is a hard question! I'm assuming money and time is no problem, so...

At first I thought of a lovely tropical island. I do like the sun, I love swimming in the sea, and would love to go somewhere where the water was crystal clear and there were reefs and fish and wildlife to look at.

But I also love snow when it's proper big fluffy snow you can have fun in, rather than try to battle to work through. So somewhere cold and beautiful would be good too...or somewhere really insanely desolate. I'd love to go to the arctic or antarctic. Not to trek anywhere too extreme, but just to see the place - maybe stand on top of the world.


I haven't really been to many places in the world. Europe a bit, Italy a lot, and odd other places but it would be nice to go places with someone, and I imagine visiting new places with the boys would be quite amazing, because the way they see the world is so different anyway.

Reading through those I've realised that my dream holiday essentially is beautiful desolation. I'd like the people I love to be there, and no one else. Ha. Cant imagine anything worse than somewhere crowded with people - especially other tourists. Obviously locals would be allowed to stay...

At first I was afraid...

Right. Well, at least I wasn't met with a stony silence on my requests post. Not that I ever worried about such a thing...

In answer to, er, Nameless's(?) question, you can just ask a question once and I'll try to remember/check back. But equally, don't feel like you're nagging if you want to ask again because you think I've forgotten. Right?

So today, because it's topical, I thought I'd go with:

Lupe said...

In the spirit of Halloween and All Saint's Day and Día de muertos, what about a scary story? Something weird or could-be supernatural that's happened to you? :D Have you ever been inside a haunted house? Have you ever seen a ghost or something that could be a ghost? :3 Or maybe a local tale from your home town? :D Please? *v*

I know I'm going to regret this...

Right. Danger's said he'll try to post every day for a month (hah, dropped you in it now, Doc.) So I thought...well, I could try too.

Except I've no idea what I could possibly write about.

So every day you lot can ask/suggest things as a topic for the next day. If you don't, you'll get a post about police procedure or something.

I reserve my right to remain silent/ignore you/refuse to answer anything I don't want to.

Remember kids read this too...

So, what do you want to know about on Nov 1st?

Pond life

Today was lovely. Well, the very first bit wasn't - no idea, beyond the vague suspicion that Sally might have poisoned me - what was up with me, but at about 3am I woke up. Got annoyed that I was awake again for no reason. And then found out there was a reason... And spent the next hour hanging onto various bathroom fixtures being very miserable.

Anyway, upshot of that was falling asleep again at nearly 5, and being woken up by breakfast in bed from John and the boys.

Once we were all up and dressed and ready to go we headed to the school to get some pond digging done. The hole had filled up with water a fair bit, after the rain we've had, so Deimos was straight in there, splashing about and getting filthy. Almost followed by Sherlock, but John and Mycroft both grabbed him.

The recruits look younger every year...

Danger, Sherlock and Mycroft came down to have lunch with me again today (with every hope of avoiding any criminals with outstanding warrants this time).

It wasn't just me who wanted to see them, though...my Superintendent (yes, the one Sherlock has custody battles over me with) also wanted to see them all, after their heroic efforts to help a police officer in the line of duty...

Normal six year olds, when meeting someone like the Super, would probably hang onto your hand because they were a little shy, or in awe. Sherlock hung onto mine in a clear show of ownership. I'm half surprised he didn't just stick a leash on me and a sign that said 'Property of S. Holmes'.

Anyway, the Super chatted to the three of them (I tried to stay out of it) and Sherlock gave some rather graphic descriptions of events, whilst Mycroft looked like he'd quite like to hide from the flailing-armed octopus Sherlock had become by trying to act out everyone's part of the incident at once.

At the end the Super congratulated them all and presented Mycroft and Sherlock with Scotland Yard ID cards (not police warrant cards - just the plastic cards we use in the building) - that had their ranks as Sergeants, and where the photo should be a little gold star. Which was...unexpected, and really nice of him.

Sherlock still says I'm his DI though. No debate. And said he'd help me catch other murderers.

He was also very upset that the card doesn't actually operate the electronic doorlocks in the Yard, or allow him to arrest people. I've tried to explain it's a security issue, but now he's a sergeant he knows best...just like Sally. Heh. Obviously comes with the rank pips.

Mycroft looked slightly embarrassed. Easy to forget most 13 year olds would probably find that pretty cool - but most 13 year olds aren't as mature as Mycroft. Still, he said thank you very nicely, of course.

John just looked jealous, because he didn't get one...

MURDERER

WE WENT TO THE PARK TO HAVE LUNCH WITH LESTRADE AND THERE WAS A MURDERER AND I CHASED HIM AND HE GOT CAUGHT AND NOW HE'S LOCKED UP FOREVER AND I'M GOING TO CATCH MORE MURDERERS LIKE LESTRADE DOES.

AND MYCROFT WOULDN'T EVEN LET ME KICK HIM EVEN THOUGH HE HAD KILLED SOMEONE AND LESTRADE TACKLED HIM LIKE RUGBY AND THEN THEY WERE ON THE FLOOR AND IT WAS REALLY MUDDY AND JOHN WAS FIGHTING THE BAD PEOPLE WHO WERE ON HIS SIDE BECAUSE THEY WERE TRYING TO GET LESTRADE AND EVERYONE WAS LOOKING AND PEOPLE WERE CALLING THE REAL POLICE IN UNIFORMS EVEN THOUGH LESTRADE IS REAL POLICE TOO BUT HE DOESN'T HAVE A UNIFORM AND PEOPLE DIDN'T KNOW AND THEN WHEN THEY CAME THEY ARRESTED HIM AND HE WAS REALLY ANGRY AND HE SAID LOTS OF WORDS I'M NOT ALLOWED TO SAY.

BUT NOW HE'S LOCKED UP AND HE CAN'T MURDER MORE PEOPLE AND THAT'S GOOD AND WE DID THAT AND IT WAS FUN AND I WANT TO CATCH MORE BAD PEOPLE AND JOHN AND I SHOULD GO TO WORK WITH LESTRADE EVERY DAY TO HELP HIM AND MYCROFT TOO WHEN HE'S NOT AT SCHOOL AND THE DOGS.

Mistakes

Shouldn't be on here. Should be sleeping.

I'm in court in the morning. I still get nervous, after years of testifying.

This time maybe with good reason. Not there to watch someone go down for a crime.

There to face my husband. To make him my ex-husband.

I haven't told anyone. I haven't told John, or Nicky, or anyone. I wanted to, but every time I tried I just couldn't get the words out. Couldn't explain. Can't tell them I don't want them there, I don't want them to even think about it. Don't want them to know until it's over. Don't want this to hurt anyone else.

I know if I told anyone then they'd be sympathetic and want to help and I can't face that, because if I let myself go for one moment I don't think I can hold myself back together again and I have to.

Sometimes you just have to do things on your own. And know that at the end there'll be people there for you. And I do know there will be.

I hope none of them read this until I'm there, phone off, away from everyone. Maybe I should just delete this. But somehow it's easier, telling the internet. It's sort of, telling someone, without having to face the reaction. I don't want to see a reaction. If I do post this I'll be ignoring comments until after.


I'm sorry, John. I know you'd want to help. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to tell you. I'll call you and the boys as soon as it's over.

I will be okay.

You don't know what you're missing...

Just because you all seem to think I'm mad for getting up early. But the other day I went into work, then headed out again on a job, and this was the sight that greeted me. Like London was under a big pink fluffy blanket.

Better than looking at the inside of your eyelids, right??

Marco Simoncelli

Just taking a break from pond-digging and saw that Marco Simoncelli has died at the MotoGP in Sepang. What a tragedy. My heart goes out to his friends and family, and especially to Valentino and Colin, who both must be devastated.

The BBC report.

...food is the food of love. Apparently.

Recipes. As promised.

We have bowls of fruit soaking in brandy hidden in high cupboards to keep it away from predators, four legged and two legged...

Just thought I'd slip this in here...

So, for those of you who think I deserve some sort of title for my powers of innuendo, you should watch this. It's a kid's TV programme. I used to watch it with Nicky, Danny, Sam and Rachel. I was a bit old for it when it started. But generations of kids in the UK grew up with Zippy, Bungle and George.

If you can't stand the heat...

I'm speechless. Literally. Well, slightly getting over it now, but when we got back to the flat, I was speechless.

Everything seemed normal. Well, looking back on it, Mrs Hudson greeting us in the hallway was...unexpected. And her following us up to flat was unusual, but I suppose we just thought she was pleased we were back...

cooking up a storm...

Right. Recipes. I'm going to do my best to be all multinational and convert things, too. So...sorry if I get it wrong! Alert me to anything that looks ridiculous, or if I've named something that needs translating. But don't expect me to do anything about it until I'm back from dragging Danger into the countryside for some fun.

A distant ship's smoke on the horizon...

Still ill. Which is seriously boring, as Sherlock has pointed out. Danger is nursing me back to health though. Which largely consists of making me drink odd things, refusing to let me do anything and forming a lovely warm human pillow. Which does make me a feel a lot better.

Sadly he's actually employed as a nanny, so I have to share him.

If I had a time machine the ONE piece of advice I'd go back and give myself would be to never start smoking. It's only ever been a spectacularly bad idea.

I noticed the other day that one of you admitted finding John's blog whilst surfing for porn. HAH, I knew it. (EDIT: It was Azure. "And, yes, John, I totally was looking for porn when I found this. But aren't you glad that so many awesome people ended up here even if we found it while looking for filth?".) I rest my case.


And now, because I've been incarcerated all day....

Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky

Still at work. Now been here, with a short break to dump a couple of fish on John, for...over 25 hours. Am in that place where you're so tired you couldn't possibly sleep.

Just waiting for one more report, then to see the DCI, then home.

Talked to Sherlock on the phone a few minutes ago, to try to persuade him Mrs T probably doesn't want a fish skeleton in her classroom all day.

This case is...well, it'll be another one where no one wants to talk to us. The victim who's still alive - just - is in no condition to talk to anyone. No one in the area saw or heard anything. The flat was clearly set up for drugs deals, so it might be a turf war, which means gangs, which means retaliation, which means we need to work fast or the bodies could start piling up.

Danger, I'll probably get home while you're taking Sherlock to school. You'll no doubt find me wherever I land...sofa, bed, floor...

Nothing is impossible in my all powerful mind...

It's a beautiful day! Even now we've got the windows open in the flat. It's an odd mix of trees thinking it's autumn, and being beautiful colours, and the sunshine meaning swimming outdoors is still brilliant, not chilly.

We all walked Snoopy this afternoon. Well, obviously Sherlock held the leash, as is his duty. But we all went, kicked about in the park, stopped for coffee (me), tea and cake (John. I may have helped a little bit with the cake...) and cake and a milkshake (Sherlock, although he had a sip of my coffee too).

Now he's very studiously putting all his drawing materials into precise colour order, I'm meant to be doing paperwork - some Italian - because I really, really don't want to have to go over there and testify for the inquest, but really I'm wondering what - if any - things John and I could have done to us on our weekend away. Massage? Relaxation? Different weird sort of massages with hot stones or oil or aromatherapy? Floatation? Dry floatation? It's like speaking another language. Feel free to offer opinions if you've ever done that sort of thing.

John is reading a book, and answering Sherlock's questions on colours. And agreeing it is annoying that the paint/plastic colour of a pencil/pen doesn't match the actual colour...


As for you lot, in the last poll exactly half of you agreed blaming John was the right thing to do, really. Even though some of you wouldn't allow Sherlock to fly the plane. A lot of you found religion, and a surprising number would have put him in restraints.

Forts, fortissimo, photos

Realised I haven't posted any pictures of the fort. (I typed 'my fort' then. Has my brain been buying things online whilst I've been working? Danger, do we own a Fort?) So instead of boring you all about the usual old crap, have some photos.

Makes you think.

Just had one of those weird conversations. I mean, the conversation itself wasn't weird. But it made me think about things.

Basically, Mrs Holmes just offered me money, for my 'role' in the boys' lives.

My sergeant is on thin ice...

While the Boss is out, and because he always forget to log out on his computer, you can all enjoy him looking like a thug.

sorry it's not very good quality, it's from a surveillance roll. I think he looks a bit like Bruce Willis.

Sally

Sal! Right. You just wait.

Well, now this has been up for two hours I suppose it would be...vain and slightly odd to remove it. but in future I WILL be logging out of this blog when I leave my office.

As I'm going to do shortly.

Don't know where we're going. We just have to be ready between half one and two, to leave for the airport. So John will fetch Sherlock from school at lunchtime, I'll get back to the flat, and then...God knows where we'll end up. But I'm sure it'll be fun. We shall let you all know, obviously.

Sherlock's suggestions have ranged from the jungle to an underwater city (no, I don't know where he gets these ideas from). Currently he's so excited about going there on a plane that the actual destination isn't that important to him.

I wanna hold your hand...

I think I've talked about this before. Sorry if I'm boring you.

Spending the day eith John today was lovely. It really was. Sunshine, fresh air, the bike running like a dream, no major traffic snarl ups, good coffee, walking by the river...you know, just sickeningly perfect, like you see in films.

Except... Just sometimes, I want to hold John's hand. Or put my arm around him whilst we walk, or wrap my arms around him when we look in a shop window or any number of other things.


And I don't. Or if I do it's because I've looked around and decided there's no one to witness it.

But a part of me wants to do those things so people can witness it. A part of me wants to get a big sign out saying 'look at me, look at this gorgeous man who chooses to spend his life with me. Aren't I a smug, lucky, bastard?'.

I don't want to be stared at though. Or have anyone comment on us. Or worse. Especially if we're with the boys.

But someone has to do it, right? To ever have a hope of it being 'normal' then people like me just have to suck it up and do it and stop worrying. And why shouldn't that someone (those someones) be us? I mean, coming out at work was/is probably easier than I expected. I know people talk about me, and I get the odd occasion of someone thinking they're funny by sticking rainbow stickers on my nameplate or flyers for gay clubs on my car or bike or that sort of stuff. But generally everyone just gets one with it.

So, what do you think, John? Next time we're out...should I be brave? Would it make you uncomfortable? What if there was trouble? Do we run, or stand and fight...

Am I massively overthinking this? I'm sure I didn't used to. But then again, I used to get in far more fights...

Homeward bound

So, my last day in Italy. Can't say I'm sad about that, for once.

This afternoon I'll be back with John and Sherlock, and tomorrow we're going to see Mycroft, if that's all been arranged, and I can't bloody wait. Feels like I've been away forever.

Think I've definitely aged a few years.

Last night Hannah woke me up at about 2 and for the first time she said she wanted her Mum. What can you say to that? We just sat up for a few hours, talking about England, and her Granny and school friends and other people. Lots of tears. Not all hers.

She wants to see her friends again. She wants her Gran. She's worried about a lot of things I don't have answers to.

Yesterday afternoon a lady from social services arrived from the UK. So she and Hannah have started to get to know each other. Originally she should have taken Hannah last night, but Hannah got upset at that, and having only just started to come out of her shell to Fio, and needing a bit of stability, Fio put us up for the night. Julie's with her now, and will be with us on the flight home, and someone else is bringing her Gran to meet us at the airport. Part of me doesn't want to let her go, because I know just how hard it'll be for her, working through everything she's seen. But the sooner she begins to settle into what will be her life now, the better. She needs to know how things will be. Julie's working on making sure she can stay at the same school, live with her grandparents or aunt, all of that. It's all so complicated.

Anyway, we're about to set off to the airport.

Apparently I'm sitting in the back with Julie and Hannah. And Spider and Gregory-bear, who are friends. Yeah. It's a big people carrier, so hopefully I can hide at the back and sleep. But I doubt it.

John, prepare yourself to be hugged to bits.

case closed

The girl is now safe.

I'm okay.

Her father is dead.

I'm hoping I'll be back to the UK on Saturday.

That's...about it, really.

malinconico

Didn't get a chance to talk to Danger or Sherlock yesterday - when I rang, there was no answer (Danger undoubtedly busy with Sherlock, it being the weekend), when they rang I was asleep or out of range.

We're still a few steps behind this bloke. It's frustrating. But all evidence points to the girl still being alive and well, which is good.

There's no one here I feel like I can talk to about anything other than the case. Not about John or the boys or...well, that, really. Almost wish I still had my ring. At least people assumed things then. They all think I'm single, I think. And I don't want to lie about my situation...so I just don't say anything.

Suppose it all boils down to one simple thing. I'm lonely.

Glad I've got this blog. Nice knowing you lot are all out there. Getting your comments makes it all a bit easier. Knowing we're all scattered around the globe, but still having a chat on here.

Allora. Andiamo, eh?

Not the best of days

I'll be honest. Which about this sort of thing, is rare.

Today was a bad day. I'm tired, I had to get used to a whole new set of people, at a new station, it's hot, we haven't caught the bastard, I miss John, miss home, miss my team and...well, other reasons too.

Actually, I suppose now I've said all that, I may as well give up on being mysterious.

Today I was supposed to meet Bryan and his solicitor, with my solicitor, and be a whole big step closer to getting through court and sorting out the dissolution.

Instead I've had to reschedule that...or rather, just put it off until I-don't-know-when. And...and I just want it over. Want it done. I hate all this waiting for paperwork and court dates and bloody solicitors writing letters.

Anyway, finished on time today. Well, on time being about half seven, Italian time. And have a reasonable hotel. So I've eaten, and am now sitting in the town square with coffee and wifi. So it's not all bad.

Italia

Well, I'm here. Rome. Waiting for someone to tell me what's going on. Was met at the airport by a bloke called Paulo.

I think I'm getting a car, being sent East to L'Aquila, where apparently this guy was spotted. Or they think he was. All pretty confused, really. I'm still trying to work out exactly how the police here work. It's quite different to the UK. And it's taking me a while to get used to speaking Italian full time.

It's hot here. About 30. Big difference from the grey cool England I left behind.

Flight was okay. Never flown posh class before. God knows what first is like if that was business. All I could think about was leaving John and the boys though. Even though I know Mycroft isn't even there, still don't want to be so far away.

And I desperately want to help John out with Sherlock. As if Mycroft starting school wasn't enough of a change for him to deal with. For us all. Sherlock, I'm sure John wouldn't mind if you wanted to get into his bed. He's probably lonely without me or Spider. He'd really like a cuddle from you.


John, being utterly amazing, found time last night to borrow one of Mycroft's old iPods and put a load of my music on it. He gave it to me at the airport. Said he hoped it made me feel better, like I'd said yesterday, talking about moving to new places, when I said I always unpacked my record player and music first. I'm constantly amazed at how kind and thoughtful he is, when I'm abandoning him to God knows how much stress, he still does things like that. I really didn't want to let go of him and walk through to departures.

Just hope we can catch this bastard and I can get back home. Please.

Happy Birthday, Freddie

He would have been 65 today.

I can't really tell you what an influence he was on my life. Freddie and Queen as a whole.

This song in particular.

On with the show, Darlings.

The last day...

So today is the last day of the summer holidays. Have no idea where the weeks have gone. Didn't the summer holidays seem to last forever when we were young? Now it feels like they're over as soon as they start.

Sherlock's back at school tomorrow. He keeps saying he doesn't want to go, but we hope he'll forget all that once he's back there. Of course, he's only back for one day, then he's staying off school as we're all taking Mycroft up to Harrow.

Today in the park Sherlock climbed a tree. I might be to blame for that... So when he got stuck (or at least, wouldn't come down, and claimed to be stuck) I felt like I should go up and get him.

Obviously he weighs quite a lot less than I do... So John was the voice of reason (special Nanny voice, forbidding me to go any higher) and Mycroft stepped in. He got up the tree and helped Sherlock down. Which makes us think he wasn't so stuck, because he didn't seem to struggle at all then.

Mycroft, we'll keep you on speed dial for all such situations...

Mycroft seems quite positive about school now. Well, he's putting on a good show for us, at least. Of course he's a little worried - it's a massive change, so who wouldn't be? But I think he's feeling a bit better about it all now he's met another boy, and got all his kit and been in contact with his house master.

I'm fairly positive about work myself, having caught up, mainly, with the paperwork. Means that once Mycroft is at school John and I can try to distract Sherlock from missing Mycroft and the dogs too much, when it's all strange for him at first.

It's good that technology now means we can all Skype and talk and text and really not feel too seperated.

We're waiting for Mycroft to decide where we're going for dinner now...

Lost. And found?

My sanity, that is.

I was doing really well, sorting out work, seeing the boys, enjoying life... And now, suddenly, it's all going wrong again.

This afternoon i called all my sergeants in, told them this couldn't carry on. I don't mind doing a lot of work, but it's getting ridiculous. So today and tomorrow they're each briefing me on open cases, giving me short versions, the basics, and we're planning things and just trying to get a better structure in the team. There's still a lot of work - we're short handed, so it's never going to be any other way. But it's not going to be me working until I drop every night.

And I've got a half day either tomorrow or Friday, to go somewhere with Danger on the bike, I've definitely got cover for the day we take Mycroft to school. So am generally feeling better about work and life.

And should even get home on time tonight. And probably not fall asleep after locking myself in a room, necessitating a daring SAS style raid by Mycroft to come in via the window, as I did last night.

Just like Mamma used to make...

In the sea just pipped outdoor swimming pool to the post in the last poll.

Apologies to all you who don't like swimming at all. I should've thought of that.


Today was D day. M Day, rather. We went to see my mother. Escorted, for safety, by Nicky. (Nicky - 'I've told her we're coming, and she's to be on her best behaviour'. Mum - 'It was only the one, to steady my nerves.' One bottle, I presume.)

Okay, she wasn't utterly pissed, but she wasn't exactly sober either. Which probably shouldn't have bothered me as much as I let it.

A lot of things probably shouldn't bother me as much as I let them.

Drowning, not waving...

I have so much work to do I keep acting like a crap computer -freezing and shutting down, before restarting.

I have to get my desk cleared before we go away for the long weekend, because if I don't, well, I don't feel like I'll get caught up again before Christmas. And I can't believe Christmas already feels quite soon.

Mycroft and I just went for a ride - which was brilliant. He's a very good pillion. We did a mix of roads and different levels of traffic. He still maintains there should be some sort of test to ensure idiots aren't allowed on the roads.

So because he told me I had to, here are a couple of pictures of my bike.

back to reality...

Back in London. Traffic chaos, sirens, fumes... can we go back to Dorset?

Although it was amusing listening to my sister squeal down the phone to Danger whilst I tried not to swear whilst guiding the biggest vehicle in the world through tiny gaps in angry traffic. Danger took it all very well, and even managed to get some organising done in-between Nicky going wild about us moving in together.

This morning, before it was light, when John was telling me a liitle bit about his nightmare last night, he asked me a question. And now I'm sitting by myself on a cliff top, looking out over a sparkling sea, hoping to find an answer.

He asked me to move in with him and the boys.

And most of you (and half of me) is thinking there isn't any need to think for a second before giving an answer to that. I mean, I basically already live there. Most of the things I need day to day are there. And half of what was still at my flat has just been nicked.

So my mouth was open to say 'yes' even before the other half of my brain kicked in and stopped me dead.

Because...because I don't know how I feel about leaving my flat. Yes, it's stupid spending money on a place I visit so rarely. It's clearly a bad idea to leave it empty so much. I don't even remember the last time I stayed the night there.

But it's still there, even if I'm not in it. It's still mine. I've still got somewhere to go.

So i haven't given him an answer yet. And I honestly don't know what it'll be.

I've lost everything before. Found myself in the street with nowhere to go and I don't think I can risk it again.

It soothes all my troubles away...

I'm not advocating drinking all your troubles away...that's a line from the song 'I Am A Cider Drinker'. (It also includes the lines 'With me breeches full o' tadpoles,
And the newts between me toes'. I don't advocate bothering wildlife, either.)

There's a pub quite close to where we're camping. It's basically three small rooms - two for drinking, one a 'museum', full of those infamous 'Things In Glass Jars' that Sherlock loves, a lot of fossils and bones, an entire stuffed alligator...well, it's just got all sorts in it. Both the boys have spent quite a bit of time in there.

It's a cider pub, so there are about ten ciders on tap, a few bitters and that's about it. It's stuffed with walkers, musicians, and dogs. A lot of dogs. Which seems like even more dogs, when our two get involved, being massive.

Anyway, it's lovely. Unspoilt by modern life, fantastic views down to the sea, chicken roaming about in the large garden (did I mention dogs?) and utterly relaxing.

Mycroft even let his hair down and had a ginger beer shandy. (Which isn't an extended metaphor for any gay sex act...) If you like ginger beer...and you like bitter, then you should try mixing them.

Camping it up.

Quick updates!

We're here. Tent is standing. Fire is lit. Sherlock is predictably unwilling to think about going to bed.

We haven't been down to the sea yet - it's a bit of a walk - but have explored the surrounding area. Dogs have made doggy friends. Sherlock has talked to everyone and probably now knows their life stories. And eaten ice cream.

I am very much looking forward to zipping myself to Danger and sleeping for a long time. Although I imagine Sherlock will be up at sparrow's fart desperate to go down to the (very cold) sea...

Battered, knackered, but victorious!!

The game yesterday was...well, good, because we won! But generally a little brutal and slightly bad tempered (as expected).

Sherlock managed to refrain from asking anyone to kiss. I managed to refrain from kissing Danger (behind the changing rooms at half time doesn't count. It wasn't my fault. He was utterly irresitible, all sweaty and muddy and in his tight rugby shorts.)

The match ended 31-24, with one broken wrist, a broken nose, suspected cracked ribs, possible broken foot and a steady stream of visitors to the blood bin.

Danger's got a cut on his leg, and numerous bruises, I've got some nice stripes on my back where someone skidded on me with their studs, and more various bruises. If anyone saw the two of us at the moment they'd think we were into some sort of S&M relationship.

Molly and Sherlock spent the time plotting to bring down civilisation - well, they were both smiling a lot, so that's what I presume. And Mycroft talked to both Molly and Sally for a while, and generally kept an eye on Sherlock.

Sherlock did insist on coming on our victory lap, on my shoulders. A few people commented that there wasn't much family resemblance. And in the pub afterward there was a definite split between people who could get over the fact we were gay and looked after kids and people who couldn't cope with this and just managed to occasionally stare.

Then Sherlock had a meltdown last night. The sooner we go camping the better, I think, at least John and I can share the load.

Still, work today, court then work tomorrow, and then Wednesday we're off!