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.'

Well, presuming 'this sofa, right now' isn't a very good answer, here are two other ones.

Firstly, and you'll probably all laugh, given 'Back To The Fuschia' - Columbia Road. It's just a little street, few decent shops, delis, cafes, non-descript.

Until Sunday. Early on a Sunday there's the clank of stalls, the chatter of people, the sounds of barrow boys setting up, shouting out, and the smells...because every Sunday there's the flower and plant market. And it's brilliant.

And secondly, this place. It's a bombed out church, right in the heart of the City. But it's an oasis of calm. It's so lovely, and you'd never know it was there. You can just sit there and look at how nature's busy reclaiming the place. And then, through the gaps and the missing windows you can see the glass and steel of the modern buildings which are packed around it.

It's amazing.

So there you go. Two quite different places. Both wonderful, in their own way.