So, most of you will have read John's post from yesterday. Which was just about as dramatic as any Friday has a right to be.
Mycroft very kindly gave up his bedroom for Mary, and slept on the floor of Sherlock's room.
I think it took everyone a while to settle down to sleep.
And then I was woken up by Sherlock shaking my arm and telling me that "Mycroft had a bad dream and I got him a dog and gave him a hug and he's still not okay". So I headed in there, swiftly followed by John, and Mycroft was being exceptionally brave, but was a bit upset about everything.
So we all fitted on Sherlock's bed, with both the fnugs and half a dog, and had a group hug. I ended up sitting with Sherlock hugged against me and most of a fnug around him, John was using my leg as a pillow and he and Mycroft were under the other duvet and we all fell asleep again.
I was first woken, pretty early, but Sherlock poking me in the chest and saying "Why are you in my bed?" - clearly having forgotten his little mission in the middle of the night.
And not long after, we were all woken up by Mary finding us - or, more accurately, the large hound that was trailing around with her snuffling into the room and causing the large hound that was acting as John's foot-warmer to scramble off in greeting. Those dogs can be graceful. But not when getting up/down or on and off furniture. Or on slippery surfaces.
Anyway, Mary apologised, but laughed at us anyway, and then Sherlock announced to her that we were having eggs benedict for breakfast, she said that sounded lovely...and once I had any feeling back in my legs, I went to Tesco to buy muffins for it.
She's coping very well will the constant flow of boys, dogs and degus and the general chaos of the flat, as well as Sherlock's questions about various things. And proved herself very adept with a frisbee in the park earlier.