Today the weather has been horrible. Rain, rain, rain, some more rain... probably the last gasp of hurricane Sandy - we always get it a while later.
Anyway, this meant, as always, we had one seven year old, hopped up on life, confined within four walls.
And who wanted to make many things...cake, biscuits, milkshakes, a pie, a halo, wings, shoes with wings, a degu run the size of the flat, a fort, a maze, a sausage-making machine, a new dance move, some prog rock involving a violin and a guitar, a new no1 Christmas song, some streamers, and the stinkiest stink bombs in the world.
When faced with such a list, John came up trumps. And presented him with this:
It's a coded message, found attached to those pigeon-remains, from the second world war. Someone found it in their chimney a few weeks ago.
Of course, as soon as you say to Sherlock that 'no one can crack the code', he is immediately completely and utterly sure he can. Which has led to hours of blissful silence.... apart from his occasional criticism of my dance moves...
I feel sure he won't mind too much if we open it to you lot, too ;)