31 August 2011

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.

28 August 2011

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.

26 August 2011

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.

24 August 2011

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.

21 August 2011

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.

20 August 2011

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.

17 August 2011

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...

15 August 2011

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!

13 August 2011

I'm definitely too old for this...

Caught him. Almost red handed. But not a nice clean collar. Think I've gone through half the back gardens in Greater London. If there's and Olympic event that involves scrambling over fences and falling over bloody ornamental fountains in the dark, I could enter for England.

Absolutely bloody knackered. Had to get India99 in in the end to find the bastard. Jesus.

It's bloody frightening, searching for someone in the dark, not knowing if they've armed themselves, not knowing where they could be. Think i'm 99% adrenalin right now.

Still, got to get into custody, process him and interview him before I get home. Lots to do. Evil bastard.

Hope tomorrow night is quiet.

10 August 2011

Call the fashion police...

Given that, recently, I've wrecked quite a few shirts - what with car crashes and fires and the like - John very kindly volunteered to go and buy me some new ones.

Which of course meant Mycroft and Sherlock went, too.

This meant I wasn't going to get M&S two-pack cotton easy-iron shirts.

8 August 2011

I have the best boyfriend in the world

Work  was...work.

And I was going to stay late. Because of all the trouble at the moment - there's still a lot of looting, and half of London feels like it's fighting, on fire or being looted. Or all three.

But John told me I should come home...I had no idea why. Still, who can resist?

And I'm glad I didn't try...

I thought that having a lovely night away, a beautiful day with John and the boys, a Spider, afternoon tea, (and a book we shall not mention) was really far more than I deserved in the way of birthday gifts/treats.

And then I arrived home to find he'd bought me a brand new - amazing - amp for my guitar, and a set of really nice headphones to go with it, so I can play when the rest of the house needs peace and quiet.

My old amp was battered and largely held together with gaffa tape and cable ties, and was rapidly losing sound quality, because half the settings were too old to work properly, and I lost my old headphones ages ago - never needed to replace them when I lived alone.

I'm just...no one has ever bought me such a lovely, thoughtful gift before. Seriously. And...God, I don't feel like I deserve any of this, but I'm so, so grateful.

John wants it to be known I'm a 'like big kid'.

6 August 2011

We're gonna have a good time...

well, yes. Much to Sherlock's disbelief, I did sort of forget it was my birthday. I mean, if you'd asked me my date of birth, I still know it, but it hadn't really hit me we were even in August, I've been so busy.

So my birthday surprise(s) came as more of a surprise than ever...

Last night, I got home, expecting some takeaway...and John had cooked. Cooked a bloody amazing dinner. (details here) It was really, really nice. And really touching that John even thought about it.

4 August 2011

I'm not very good at doing clever things on here...

here's a song I like. I'm not very good at finding things on YouTube. It's the first one he sings. I'm teaching myself to play it on the guitar. YouTube is brilliant for that - being able to listen, over and over, picking out the sounds. I can't really read music very well, I've always done it this way. Far easier than having to put the needle back on the vinyl over and over, I tell you. Plus I can change the words to 'Pretty amazing Danger'.

2 August 2011

The only place no one can bother me...

Was meant to cook curry last night - a first, for me. But instead stayed at work, staring at the walls and willing that one clue that'll crack the case to jump out at me.

It didn't.

But Danger did turn up with dinner for me, cooked by Mrs Hudson. Not quite what I had planned.

So now he knows about the case I'm "not talking about". Which doesn't mean I'm about to start talking about it. Some things in this job get to everyone. Some things get to certain people. Some things don't seem to worry you, and then you worry about yourself. Hard to keep hold of your humanity, sometimes. Hard to let go of it, others.

Makes me worry a bit about the boys, too. They both - but Sherlock particularly, being so much younger - see things, via me, that other kids don't. Sherlock loves murders. Loves the stories. And I worry sometimes that I'm making it all too much of a story, and not enough about the real life consequences. Mycroft understands all that. I'm not sure Sherlock does. Sometimes I feel irresponsible. But I don't want to scare him, either.

I don't know thinking too much, probably. Some cases do that to you, too. Sometimes you need to get out and eat ice cream and just accept that you can't save the world on your own.

As much as you all rag me for not taking compliments and all that, I know I'm damn good at my job. And sometimes that means I put a lot of pressure on myself - and my team, who are equally as good, and without who I wouldn't be half as successful - Because I don't want any case to be the one I have to send to 'unsolved' pile.

It was easy, before John and the boys. Stay at the Yard, sleep at my desk, drink coffee, eat take away, ignore the rest of the world and just focus. I didn't have or want a life outside of work, not really. Because everything outside always went tits up, and everything about my job has always gone well.

Trying to rebalance my life isn't as easy as I thought it might be. But I think I'm getting better. i just relapse sometimes.

Speaking of which, it's close to a year since I gave up smoking...there have beenn relapses on that front, too.

John, Mycroft and Sherlock are the best motivators I could have on both fronts.

Curry tonight, everyone?