Winter in water colours, Shades of grey

I'm stuck in that state of adrenalin and caffeine when I should sleep so I'm just jittery.

We foudnt the boy. He's as fine as you could possibly hope. Scared, pleased to be back with his folks, clearly, you know, got a lot to deal with. But unhurt. I mean, really, a couple of bruises and that; it.

Obviously the school are overjoyed too, even though it was nothing to do with them. Well, I suppose the opportunity was, but they can't keep tthe boys locked up.

The parents are also clearly immensely relieved, but also, as always, guitly and everything. It was all about money, they demanded a ransom for the kid. As far as we could trace it around it was because of a business deal that had gone bad that left someone else very out of pocket, so they thought this was a suitable way to get money back. It's a messed up world where people can think snatching a kid is okay for money.

John was wonderful. It was nice getting to see him work, even if Id sort of lost the ability to focus or process thoughts by that stage. He was great with the boy, and the mum, who had sort of gone a bit into shock or something. And obviously briliant with all my officers. And he didn't even cause any avoidable extra pain to crims. Which is good, from a professional point of view, even if we'd all secretly have liked that. Heard a couple of officers gossiping about him. The 'new' FME. Married, sadly. Wonder who the lucky cow is? I didn't moo. But they might have decided our hug was more than matey.

Now we're all back, Sherlock just got in and threw himself at me, then John and is now showing his mum some degu related thing and also his school book to show her all his stars in it.

Mycroft is home wth us, which we're all vey glad about. It's just one of those times you want to be together.

I lost count of coffee. I passive smoked quite a bit, but didn't light up once myself. Threw up once, because John's right, and no one should ever drink that much black coffee on an empty stomach, fell asleep in quite a few very awkward positions in quiet moments. wondered if I was getting to old for all this a few times.

Forgotall of that and was incredibly glad I do this job once.

Thick as thieves us, we'd stick together for all time

We're making jam. John is salivating. It's a glorious colour, I just hope it tastes good!

We went out picking fruit yesterday morning, so have loads for all sorts of cooking.

He can drool over this picture now, not into the pan...

The weekend was lovely. Even stupid little things made it amazing - like turning up at the carriage, and being greeted by the owners... I introduced myself and the lady said "And you must be Greg's husband" to John. I know it's silly, but...not everyone does that. I mean, ah, I don't know what I mean. But anyway, it was nice. And they leant us cake pans, and were just generally very nice people. Who own a very nice railway carriage. It even has two small bedrooms for the boys, so they didn't have to share. Although Mycroft took the bunk beds, and slept on the top one, so the dogs could have the bottom.

We cycled along the coastal paths, ate our lunch on the beach, and got to go to the pub for a nice leisurely pint, too. Perfect weekend!

Today was all about John washing socks while I tried to distract him...

Sherlock got quite a few presents...including these:

Because who doesn't want to eat a milk chocolate colon??

He was very grateful and charming, anyway. He is a fantastic young man.

Out of all the people, you wanted me the most

Well...I managed it. Escaped Sherlock's bedroom, after much questioning about our intentions for the weekend. Obviously, being Sherlock's birthday, it has to be better than everyone else's... well, we hope we won't disappoint. You know, if we actually do anything...

Got my hand slammed in a door. Only a bit, not enough to break anything. But irritating. Sherlock is disappointed, obviously, that it's not broken/many colours/fingers in jars. Hopefully he'll realise that I sort of need the hand, to ride the bike, to go on any holidays which might happen...

Went for a run the other morning. Got up stupidly early. Sherlock and John probably didn't appreciate it ;) but I needed to.

I love swans. And at the moment there's great big teenager swans about. Same size as the grown ups, but still brown. Can't make proper swan noises, still sound like cygnets. I don't know, remind me of the boys - look all grown up, but not really. Makes me think a lot, seeing Mycroft - 15 years old. And in some ways, so mature, so grown up, but in others, still a boy. Still got a lot of education ahead of him, if he chooses it. I left school when I was his age now, got a job, left home completely a year later and came to London. It's just unimaginable, looking at him. I mean, he's far more sense between his ears than I ever did, and I still wouldn't want him out on his own. Makes you wonder, what people thought of me.

Anyway, I've got 4 days off now, after a very good week. Good convictions, good arrests, most of the paperwork done, happy team, happy public.

I should change that tag though...

Another evening just flew past tonight

Right. Waiting for my rolls do to their second rise. Stopping Sherlock prodding them. Putting up with his protestations that white ones are better than wholemeal. Eating Smarties. I don't even know why we have Smarties in the flat... probably cake decoration?

There is also a degu cleaning itself as close to my keyboard as I allow it. It is obsessed with sitting just where I'm trying to type and stuffing it's shed fur into my keys, I think. As we need more fur around, now the dogs are gone. It also tries to steal my Smarties. I think that would kill it, so it's failing.

Had a nice day today, although the weather's been a bit crap.

Just nice spending time in the flat, sometimes.

And one day off now means...oh yes, two days off in the week!!

For those of you who didn't spot the answer to the paperwork question - 11 forms, plus prepping interviews for transcribing, doing interviews, doing disclosure, charging, fingerprinting, etc. ... paperwork takes 4-6 hours (I can do it faster these days!) and the rest takes a good 5 hours...


Here's a pic of the GLORY that is a mushy pea fritter and chips. All smothered in vinegar and salt, with ketchup on the side. Look at the lovely gorgeous fresh green tones. And then ponder why on earth John doesn't like them. Delicious.

John is reading a book. He's slid so far down into the sofa I can only see one foot. Maybe the sofa's turned sentient and has eaten him. I wouldn't be surprised. It's probably in league with the wallpaper.

There's some reality TV programme about Harrow going to start soon. We asked Mycroft about it. The reaction was such that we won't be asked again!

Sherlock is still trying to prod the dough. I might go and prod Danger....

We would be warm, below the storm

Have a guess how many forms I have to fill in/check if someone is arrested? Be interested to see what you think. And how long it should take...

Obviously certain forms run to many pages... so I'm just counting the individual forms as designated by different codes by the Met.

As you probably saw on John's comments, I pulled someone over on the way back into town - this total... idiot, we shall call him, tried to pull inbetween two vehicles. Failing to notice one was towing the other. Despite the huge 'on tow' signs, the bright red tow rope, etc.

Anyway, Sherlock almost exploded with glee at being able to switch on the lights and siren 'in anger'. It certainly makes people jump, when the boring, normal, grey BMW beside them suddenly lights up like a Christmas tree and starts wailing.

We felt like this octopus

(I'd have put it in the post, but it starts when you load the page, and I hate that.)

Day off tomorrow! To tend John's bruises ;) Sherlock says I'm 'better' when I have the next day off...proof that I'm an incredibly lucky man to have such a great life away from work, I think.

There was an old plane flying over London the other day, followed by a helicopter. I think they were filming something.


I get...irrationally angry, when John gets hurt. I mean, really, really fuming. I have to...just, I don't know, really crush it down. I know it's stupid. There's nothing I can do after the fact. There is almost certainly nothing I could do even if I was there. He's better trained than I am. No point me being angry, especially as he's normally the person I'm with. Used to get very angry - like this - as a kid.

It's not the message that keeps you here

I'm tired. Weird, sometimes, when the first day back leaves you more tired than the rest of the week.

Still, I think...hope...I've got Thursday off. Just me and the husband, for an entire (school-length) day ;)


Anyway, RSF asked about the difference between an outer and inner cordon (for bread making...but usually for a crime scene.

Well, in Sherlock's words: "The outer one is blue and the inner one is red and says inner cordon."

There...what more do you need to know?

But seriously. Depending on the situation, we can have up to four 'cordons' - vehicle, outer, inner and crime scene. Usually we have outer, inner, scene.

The outer cordon is for the public. We stop the general public getting past a certain point, for various reasons. They get in the way. They see disturbing things. If we have to arrest someone at the scene they could potentially be in danger. We can't control lots of people if we also have witnesses to protect/isolate. Etc.

Also, we usually have a fleet of vehicles by the time we're all there. Forensics vans, original responding officer vehicles. Ambulances. Meat wagons. My car ;). Sometimes Fire engines. And we don't like people touching our stuff. Or stealing the contents. So we park them inside the outer cordon, if needs be. But generally, anyone we like can trample about in there and not compromise the scene.

The inner cordon is like, invite only. So most plod won't get in there, and often we'll want people to be getting into/out of their crime scene clothing (the paper suits, over shoes, gloves) in that area. It'll be where the emergency services usually co-ordinate, away from earwigging press and public.

And then we have the crime scene. Very strictly controlled. At that point we usually have these stepping stones that we put down, so none of us walk on the floor. We try to very clearly indicate where the first responders went, and follow that path, so we don't contaminate anything else.

After we've established there is nothing that can be done to help the victim (or if they've been carted off to hospital), and we're sure it's safe, we'll get everything photographed, sketched, noted, swabbed, sampled, then removed and recorded.

Every time you cross a cordon it's recorded. We know where everyone at the scene was all the time.

Of course, being the emergency services, everything has a million acronyms. The most amusing seem to be saved for the most serious circumstances. I don't know who they pay to come up with it all.

But basically, if the Fire Brigade say IMIP, and the Ambulance service say METHANE.... then we have to think SAD CHALET.

No, not making it up...

Anyway, today, went to prison, spoke to a 'friend' of a suspect.

Went to arrest suspect, who, while we restrained and cuffed him, screamed police brutality. Then when we put him in my car to wait for the van to pick him up, proceeeded to bash his head against the window, leading to blood everywhere. Fantastic start to the week.

Where you gonna run to?*

Here are Sherlock's cinnamon buns.

I wasn't allowed to help. Except to reach things, pass things, wash things up, scatter flour for kneading/rolling, and, once I'd actually read the recipe, put my foot down and say he wasn't making 24 of them!

He did very well, though. And they're delicious. This pic taken after we'd tested a corner, but before John made off into the night with one.

Now better check he hasn't escaped and tried to follow John, then ... do something with myself.

*prize for getting the title connection is imagining the smell of those buns.

Strange how the night moves, with Autumn closing in.

Sherlock's last day of freedom. Last day of rolling out of bed late (okay, that never happened), last day of leisurely breakfasts, last day of...well, obviously not last at all, really.

Still. I'm going in a bit late tomorrow, so John and I can both take him to school. Possibly on a bike...

Then I'm off to work, Sherlock's at school until gone 3... John will doubtless spend the day dancing around the flat with pants on his head and pencils up his nose, singing as loud as he can and doing backflips through the sitting room.

Or, you know, daring to enter Sherlock's room and see what the summer has left living in there.

Here's our flowers. We didn't have loads, just a couple of these at the front of the service, and they moved to the tables later.

On the tables was cow parsley and lavender, with the odd white rose. Dead simple, nothing too showy.

We swam today. It was lovely. Sherlock spent a lot of time leaping in, and nearly managed to life save John without strangling or drowning him. We spent quite a lot of time doing underwater somersaults, too. And me launching him up into the air to practice his diving.

Sad about Mycroft not being here, though. I love having Mycroft around. Sherlock is brilliant fun, with his mad questions and sudden urges to do/see things. But Mycroft is...you can have great conversations with him, and laugh until your sides hurt.

Sadly for Sherlock, nothing caught fire while we were on Cheapside.

Now I have to shave...unless John thinks I should grow a beard.

I’m yours right now

Difficult day. The saddest of cases. You never get used to it, however many times you see dead children. It's the sort of case you just have to be incredibly careful on. And know that, in the eyes of the parents, everything you do will be wrong. You're the last person they want to see. Not just because of the obvious terrible reason you're there, but because of the horrible implication that they could somehow be responsible. And, you know, the reason we're there is...well, the tiny, truly, minescule number of times when we found it there is foul play. I mean, it's just incredibly rare. And even in the times it does happen, you still almost always have one parent was was completely innocent and unaware. And then they've lost two people.

Anyway, nothing we can do now until we get the reports back. And I won't be in then, because I'm off for two days. But the team will tell me.

So, rather more cheerfully, have this video. I mentioned it to John for the wedding. He picked other songs instead ;) Then I showed it to Sherlock the other day. He is now obsessed :)