29 May 2013


It feels like forever since we updated :) and at the same time, no time at all!

We've explored the city, been to Raffaello's home, walked around the city walls, been to the gelateria, the Ducal Palace, the museums, the beach, the crypt...

Today we went to the cemetery where my relatives are all 'buried'. Which was...well, I'm very glad we went. I talked a bit about them to John and the boys. Got a bit sad, because I just wish they all could have met. And we talked about the different Italian customs regarding the dead. Sherlock loved the crypts there - you can see bones in some of them.

Tomorrow the weather seems like it'll be a bit wet, so we're going to explore some amazing caves near here. They are just...awesome. huge.

Sherlock has charmed the locals into giving him all sorts of things, with his (very good) attempts at Italian. Mycroft has charmed them in completely different ways, if you see what I mean...he doesn't get extra ice cream and boiled sweets. He gets told what a wonderful handsome young man he is :)

Sherlock has eaten at least his own body weight in pizza and ice cream, and is still rushing up and down hills and steps and alleyways like a madman.

We may visit San Marino one day -rather depends on weather! But everyone seems to enjoy just being in the city.. I do!

The hotel is lovely. We have spa baths. Which John and I can fit in together.

I've bumped into a few people i knew as a kid. Lots of people don't leave here. As they all day 'why would you?'. But Sherlock says I talk too fast when I meet people I know, and he can't follow it.

Not all of them are at all happy about my sexual preferences either...the looks on their faces is something else. But equally others aren't at all concerned. Italy's a funny old place, sometimes.

Anyway, must go. Sherlock is 'starving' again....and it's nly 5pm, so we won't eat for another four or five hours!

25 May 2013

Forget about the bad times, oh yeah

I'm on holiday!

Very nice jog into work this morning - did it faster than I thought I would. And a decent jog home, too.

Mycroft's home, and they all came to see me earlier - I'd been out most of the morning for a stabbing, so it was great to get a chance to grab a coffee and see Mycroft. Hard to make the sudden shift from standing over a body to getting ready for a holiday...

But John's done a mountain of washing...and...well, yeah, we're ready to go!!

Sherlock has a new obsession with our flights over there, with the recent drama in the skies over the UK, and is generally interested in airline security. John, Mycroft and I have all begged him not to attempt to 'test' it in any way.

So...yeah. Just got to pack now, as we're off EARLY in the morning. Before the sort of time John would normally drag himself out of bed. :) Need to be out of the flat by half five, really.

Sherlock is packing. John is then unpacking most of that and putting in important things - toothbrushes, pants...

Mrs Hudson has sat her oral and written exams on degu care. Sherlock doesn't think she did well enough, and has left her reams of written instructions. One of the security guys has promised to get them out for a run around when he's here. Mrs H still isn't entirely sure about that, although she'll stroke them when they're out and about.

We're taking some good binoculars, so we can do a bit of stargazing. Sherlock wants to do everything at once. Beach, ice cream, mountains, cities, forts, spiral stairs for horses...everything RIGHT NOW.

I'm looking forward to very late night strolls through deserted streets, showing John where I ran riot as a kid. Trying to stop Sherlock doing the same ;) and I'm sure Mycroft will educate me on all the bits of the city I don't know enough about, and give me a whole new perspective.

23 May 2013

Two fools in love, So beautiful and strong

Last night I got called back into work at...well, let's just say John and I were celebrating his newly errr...doubly-employed-status. And the timing could barely have been worse. But sadly I can't ignore the phone on night like that.

So...John waited up for me, which was very very sweet of him. Or desperate ;) but I'm going with sweet...

This morning, I fully expected him to want to crawl right back into bed after we dropped Sherlock off at school. But no, my amazing boyfriend had other ideas... And he took me to the Chelsea Flower Show! It was amazing. Busy, but, just...fantastic. And we stayed all day. Got caught in a torrential hailstorm which had everyone running for cover, but it was sort of romantic, sheltering in the most beautiful surroundings, with John...

21 May 2013

I believe I've waited long enough

Firstly, given other comments on John's blog:

Grate two courgettes, chuck in a bowl, mix in 5 tablespoons of flour and three eggs. Season. Chop up a pepper, maybe some onion - whatever you have, really. Chuck in a pan with a bit of oil. Throw in any extras you want - feta, halloumi, bacon, whatever. Season. Either set this aside once it's cooked, and use the same pan again, or get another pan, spoon in big spoonfuls of the courgette batter, cook, flip, cook. Eat.

I walked to and from work today. Needed to...well, get moving a bit. And it's quite nice, London, when it's quiet and the weather's half-decent.

I've been going over and over this one thing in my head.

19 May 2013

Because of my shoes I’m wearing today

We had a great time last night. Eurovision is so ridiculous that you need to either ignore it completely or embrace it entirely.

With alcohol. (Which is free*.)

So, for those of you who missed it, we've chosen some of our 'highlights'. I use this word VERY loosely.

Our favourite was Malta, who sang a very sweet song, perhaps the only one ever with a lyric about risk assessments....

I don't remember who Graham was talking about on the commentary when he said it (Iceland?), but I'll say it about this song - If the Eurovision song contest was a contest about singing, this could have won it...

17 May 2013

But if you’re feeling alone and afraid and you can’t breathe

In case any of you were wondering, it takes about three days and two cycles for a dishwasher to stop producing bubbles once it's been filled with washing up liquid.

Had a dream last night. Trying to get over the moors, where we all met, on a bike. Kept getting stuck in the bogs. Just...you know when you think 'why's it so important to stay with the bike'? I mean, once I woke up. But in the dream I had to stay with it, and...ran out of time...yeah, not much fun.

The bloke who hit me is almost certainly going to lose his licence - he was already chocka with points, he said so when he ran around to me, where I was busy lying in a puddle and checking I still had all my limbs.

He did the classic - "I didn't see you, mate, you come out of nowhere!". His face pretty much fell through the floor when I pulled my warrant card out.

A few brave souls tried to do first aid on me, which was kind of them. And, it being a busy road junction, lots of people offered to be a witness for me that he was on his phone just before pulling out.

Anyway, Mrs Holmes seems to have whipped the insurance company into shape, and they've already said the bike's a write-off, so...well, I can start choosing a new one, knowing that I won't be getting the old one back.


15 May 2013

Who will make the first last mistake.

Well, as you all probably know, yesterday I came off the bike. Again. Happily, I'm mainly fine. Lots of witnesses to say the other guy was in the wrong - he was doing something on his phone, glanced around and pull out of a side turning, right into my path. I'm pretty lucky, a few seconds longer and he'd have gone into the side of me, not the other way around, and I'd've been lucky to get away with a broken leg.

As it was, I saw, half-swerved, hit him and my bike went right while I went up and over the windscreen/roof. So most damage to me was the sudden deceleration of my legs clipping the car, and the further deceleration of the rest of me hitting the road once I'd gone over the car.

Most of the damage to the bike was hitting his car, then glancing off to be hit by a 4x4 coming the other way. It ended up wedged under the front of that one. Fuel tank was gone, entire front end...I've seen enough bike crashes in my time to think that's a write-off. Just glad I'd parted company with it before it ended up like that. Helmet's all scraped and the visor's messed up, hanging off. Jacket survived with only some more scrapes and scuffs, so I'll sort it out.

Sherlock's fascinated by my bruises, so he's fairly happy, and was very gentle when he clambered onto the bed this morning (over John, not over me!) Although he does wish there was something more interesting wrong with me (some would argue there is...)

And...Mycroft will be sitting his first exam in about an hour and a half. Feels very grown up.

...and I didn't hit post when I wrote this, so now he'll be halfway through his exam...

13 May 2013

I can't understand myself anymore

I rang Mum today, in what I will laughably refer to as my lunch break.

I'm not sure what I've done this time, but she wasn't very interested in talking to me. So I spent the time telling her about what John and the boys are up to, and asking her about various things I know she's seen/done since she was home (well primed by Nicky). Didn't approach the cat idea. I dunno, it just takes the wind out of my sails. I try to get properly upbeat before calling, but after I'm always completely flat.

Still, mug of coffee later and back dealing with cases.

John and I are going to go out suit shopping. I do love a nice suit. I do love John in a nice suit.

Probably going to check out a few more tailors, until we find something for John as a sort of everyday-suit, and somewhere we might trust to work on our wedding suits. There's a tailor called Cad & The Dandy I want to try, and a few others that sound sort of...promising. Also very well aware time marches on, and we've done, essentially, nothing yet.

I think I'll be almost as excited the day we get the licence in our hands as the day we actually tie the knot!

In other news - don't attempt to run your dishwasher with washing up liquid in it. Yes, Sherlock, we know it's what you use to wash dishes...but it just doesn't work in the dishwasher. It makes it gurgle in a bad way. And completely fills with bubbles. Which, I know, you think is great. Hence our flat looking like a 90s nightclub now.

Oh, and upon getting to work this morning, there was a halo over my staff photo, wings stuck on the name plate on my door, 'Angel' taped over where it normally says 'DI' and 'Gives you wings' plastered across the coffee maker...

11 May 2013

Or maybe I'm just crazy, I don't know wrong from right

We had to give Mycroft back to school :(

Obviously we knew we had to - we were lucky he could even get away for the night, really.

Our fifteen year old takes his first exam - Astronomy - on Wednesday, and he still has all his usual schoolwork to do, so...well, yes.

He really is a complete joy to be around. He's clever, witty, funny, good for a conversation, just...well, a great young man. We're very lucky to know him.

At the allotment yesterday, well, I know we're probably a bit of a shock to the general gardening population up there. Sherlock's a shock to most people, frankly. And John and I haven't exactly been...subtle about our relationship. But, you know, why should we be? So that guy yesterday, it was a bit of s surprise, mainly because I was with the boys. I'd half been expecting something like it when it was just me and John.

I didn't really know what to say to him. I was about to get in his face and tell him what I thought, and pull my warrant card if he got nasty... but then Mycroft starts talking, totally calmly, really polite, telling him it was inappropriate to use such language in front of Sherlock, that his homophobia was not acceptable, and that any private relationship between John and me had nothing to do with him anyway.

I'm just so constantly impressed by how grown up and sensible he is. Completely level-headed. He's honestly one of the best people I know to talk to, because you know everything he says is so considered, but also from the heart.

Mum's home. Not in 'a home' but back in her own. Nicky had some advice, and they've fitted the place with some grab rails, things to make it easier for her to get about. I know I need to go and visit, but I'm not sure when I'll have a chance. Nicky's been there, Rach has, too, but they're both busy.

She said Mum's glad to be home, but...I don't know, must be a bit odd, being alone. I know she doesn't like it. I suppose I'm just worried what she'll do. Think about it a lot. One of the ways we're similar is not being so good with our own company all the time.

9 May 2013

Moonlight and love songs, Never out of date

Murray survived!

He fearlessly Sherlock-sat (We've been told, with much scowling, he's NOT a baby and it's NOT babysitting.) and the street is still standing, London is not in flames, no one bury your parmesan!

John took me to a lovely little wine bar that served amazing food, beautiful ingredients. We shared some beautiful meats to start, then I had smoked eel and he had pig's cheeks, and he finished with a bitter chocolate pot, and I finished with a coffee, walnut and caramel tart.

I've come to realise that I've never minded people looking at me, because I'm a bloke having a romantic meal with another bloke. But with Bry it was always a massive 'thing' he'd always have some comment to make if he caught anyone looking - it was just miserable. He loved being the centre of attention, except he was all mouth and no trousers, and ...yeah, couldn't ever just relax.

Whereas with John, nothing matters outside us. We can happily sit and talk and I'm so...immersed in him, it just doesn't matter, I don't even notice people around us, and it's brilliant.

So, an Anon asked about my first ever kiss.

Well...I was...14, I think. 13 or 14, anyway. And the sun was shining. We were sitting on some grass, under a tree, overlooking the city, and there were insects making noises, and a soft breeze, and everyone else was sensibly having a siesta...and, well, we'd known each other for a while. Sort of...good friends, but in a slightly awkward way, if that makes sense? Partly because 'grown ups' were always saying how sweet we were together...

Anyway, she kissed me. And I'm fairly sure I either opened my mouth in shock or to protest.

And...then she held my hand. I didn't know what to say. Because some...some weird, small part of me, had wondered, well, if when a girl kissed me - or I kissed a girl - if I'd change from this odd little frog into a charming prince. And I didn't. I was still the odd little frog and no magic spark had jumped from her into me that suddenly made me stop thinking about boys' bums in tight footy shorts or nice muscly shoulders.

So I said I really liked her, but not like...that. And she looked sad, and I wanted to tell her the reason but...well, it just wouldn't have been a good idea. So then I wanted to change my mind, just so she wasn't sad. And I so, so nearly did. But that would have been a terrible idea too.

And the next 'real' kiss I had was at a party. I don't remember his name, but that didn't turn out to be such a great idea either... At least I knew, though, that I was meant to be a frog, because it was other frogs that did it for me, not princesses at all.

I'm slightly worried that only makes sense to me because I've had half a bottle of wine, a glass of dessert wine and a digestif...

Now going to thoroughly kiss Johnfrog. If I can distract him away from Murray, who is very half-heartedly demolishing an epic degu-assault-course.

7 May 2013

Ask me I wont say no, how could I?

I've been staring at this cursor for a while, and I've no idea what to write about.

Busy day at work. But nothing...special.

Mum's going home this week. Not sure how I feel about that.

So...anything you lot want to ask?

Work, London, Life, Me...anything.

And have a letter that caught my eye from The Guardian at the weekend:

If badgers are indeed responsible for the decline of hedgehogs and bumblebees (Letters, 4 May), they are clearly cunning and devious enough to play the waiting game, living in balance with these species since the ice age, biding their time and waiting to launch their attack just as we began to spray pesticides and pave over our gardens.

Stuart Darmon

Theddingworth, Leicestershire

5 May 2013

Lying there and staring at the ceiling Waiting for a sleepy feeling...


Something I spend a whole nightshift looking forward to, but when I finally get home...very elusive.

I suppose it's not so bad when no one really cares when you crawl out of bed again, but nowadays, certain people rather do :)

I guess part of the difference is that after a nightshift, there's not much wind-down. I don't get home, spend time cooking, telly, with John and the boys, then finally drag myself off to bed. I tend to get in and try and get my head down, to be up in time to do fun things later in the day.

Today I got in, knackered, because I hadn't got much extra yesterday, and Sherlock launched himself at me (John sort of did, far, far more slowly ;) ). Had a shower, closed the curtains, buried myself in the bed.

Got up again about 45 mins later, went to the loo, got jumped on again because Sherlock hoped I was up. John removed him from my person. Went back to bed.

Rolled about. Piled fnug on, kicked it off, cursed traffic, general noise. John sneaked in to get a different shirt, suitable for allotmenteering. Managed to grab him for a sneaky kiss. Then the flat was silent, but the city decidedly not.

Dragged myself up in time for climbing. John and I did a bit, Sherlock and Mycroft did lots, and were both very good.

I liked it when there was a crack you could wedge your hands into, but not so much the sheer wall with the rubber lugs. And I quite liked the practice bit you could climb along, just getting a feel for it.

Now, of course, I'm not tired...

(and I know some of you wonder, so the victim from last night survived surgery, and is now recovering, which is good.)

2 May 2013

I got pictures on my mind.

Well...I feel bad at leaving poor Greg the Florist and John the Ex-Underwear Model in the spooky castle...but I'd already sort of planned a post today.

It's pictures. Now including bonus ratty pictures...

Firstly, here's the rat Sherlock and John bought me. I've called him Valentino Ratti:

His tail and feet almost match our bedding.

And now, onto the post I'd planned. Lots of pictures.