It was Christmas Eve babe, In the drunk tank

Well, I'm still alive, if not functioning correctly. And obviously at work, so this is quick. I'm going to get back to it at home and put a few nice songs on it, to give you all a festive kick up the arse. I refuse to be drawn as to whether I sun any of the songs last night...

Speaking of, it was a nice night last night. Always good when teams get along and can have a nice time socially. And obviously I'm a very generous boss ;) (and won't let them forget it).

Sherlock glowered at me a bit this morning. Probably because I was home so late last night (I don't actually know what time I got home, to be honest. Just that John was still awake.) Or possibly because I completely messed up his breakfast. Probably both.

We've picked up another stray for Christmas Day - DI Dimmock - Dimmo, he's working the nightshift on Christmas Eve, so I've invited him around to partake in some eating in the afternoon. Otherwise it's a bit of a miserable day!

I'm off tomorrow, then it's the long run in until I'm off on the day itself :)

The tree is remarkably intact (more than can be said for my thought process), and Maf doesn't seem too interested in it, although she is when the baubles are knocked by a passing hound, or when tinsel is dangled for her. When you tie tinsel to a dog's collar, as we discovered the other day, a huge fight ensues... so we won't be doing that again. Dog's clearly don't differentiate between having their festive collars attacked and being under attack themselves.

I'm going to have to stop there as this screen is far too bright. But I really will come back and put some music on here asap.

Mycroft has just had to remind me to return and put up promised music...

Three songs I enjoy at this time of year, for quite different reasons:

One by one we're going to stand up with pride

Happy Thursday, everyone.

I can't say there are many officers today who are crying a tear for Andrew Mitchell. Hopefully the whole sorry drama can be put to bed now.

Very sad to hear about Phillip Hughes. What a tragic way for a young man's life to be cut short - playing the sport he loved. And the poor bowler, my heart goes out to him.


Been dealing with a few cases recently - one of them is a very disturbed young man, who clearly completely believes what he's telling us, but we think it's happening in his head. We're trying to get him some help, but it's very difficult! Also taking up a lot of time, because we have to act and investigate things.

Then there's the regular criminals - the regular running around, trying to protect witnesses and things.

I nearly lost it on the phone to the CPS the other day. Words were had. Sal says she knows when I'm ranting because I pick up the whole phone and walk around the office, and have to untangle everything afterwards. Anyway, eventually, I got my way. But that took up a huge amount of my time I could have done with spending on other things.

Got tomorrow off, to spend with John.

Mycroft has invited us all to his school carol concert, which I'm sure will be amazing - a proper choir and everything. Churches generally aren't my thing, but I feel certain this will get us all in the Christmas spirit. And it's nice to get the chance to sing a few good carols. And it's only a couple of weeks until he's back home with us for the holidays.


And, because some youngster has covered it, here's a previous cover of a song I like:




Oh, by the way, feel free to start placing bets as to what Maf will attack and destroy out of the many Christmas decorations Sherlock will insist we put up.

To be honest, I'm only betting on what will survive - far shorter list.

John mentioned walking Hadrian's Wall earlier today. It sounds like a great thing to do - I'd love to spend time with John and the boys doing something like that. Sounds like heaven, frankly.

One hundred hairs make a man

mmm. nights. I've avoided them for a while, because of various day time commitments - meetings, court, that sort of stuff. But here we are, nights again, trying to prove connections between people this time, which is...well, fairly boring. When it's not my turn to be watching I'm busy going through reams of data on locations - bank card use, mobile phone calls/signals, all trying to put certain people together at certain times. CCTV, too. It's amazing the trails people leave.

Anyway, half term was lovely. Got to spend time with the boys and John. Mycroft is so different from the quiet little boy we first met. He's a big lanky confident teenager now, with unruly hair and is suddenly fluent in grunting as a means of communication. Sherlock is still stuck between being waaay above hanging onto his brother's coat tails and...doing exactly that ;)

Anyway, tonight Sherlock is staying over at the school, and is very excited. There will be fireworks first, which only adds to that excitement.

I'm not sure if John or I am going. Well, I am sure I'm not going, because I'm at work. I think Anthea might take them up there, and then we'll both go and fetch Sherlock back tomorrow and wish Mycroft well for the coming weeks.


John is going out with Murray tonight. Or Mo'rray, as he is currently known. He is trying to make John join him in Mo'vember. I very much fear he might succeed... because John's only comment so far wasn't exactly negative.."I suppose it's the one time of year people would forgive you for trying to grow a moustache"... so tonight I may find myself married to Mo'hn Mo'tsan.

Imagine this man, with a mo.

And no, I don't know what he's pursing his lips about, or why he's on a slightly dodgy looking giant fur rug, or why he's pulling that rather...er..well....that pose. I can tell you that in the next picture of the 'series', he has his tongue out.

I say no more...

Oh oh the night comes down, And I get afraid of losing my way

Well, we have both recovered from the run.

John did it in 02:15:01, I did it in 02:15:36. He could have gone faster, but he stayed with me until right at the end, when I told him I'd be forced to feel up his arse all the way to the line if he didn't run. Or...I might've thought that, and just panted something like 'Go! Go!' and waved a floppy arm at him.

Anyway, yeah, we did it! And we're quite proud. Sherlock, the girls, the baby, and Mrs H did us proud - I think they probably ran almost as much as we did, charging around the course to see us!

But yeah, it really wasn't too bad, and we might well do something else - or another half marathon. I'll admit a full marathon is still rather daunting...


Here's a video Sherlock said you should all see. And he's right. It's lovely. I think Mycroft sent it to him.

Everybody's on the run, Hang in there love, You gotta hold on

Work's been..busy. As you can probably imagine.

Otherwise, life is good! We've dialled our running schedule right back, in preparation for the weekend...Yes, we'll be doing the half marathon this weekend. Terrifyingly.

We are going to be cheered on (well, if they can drag themselves away from ice cream and the excitement of the parks) by Sherlock, Mrs Hudson, Jo, Lisa and Tadgh. Unless it's horribly rainy etc, in which case they might all amuse themselves doing far more fun things, and we shall wearily trudge home at the end with the hope of hot drinks and lots of food...

So here's our route.

John and Sherlock are going to pick up our 'race packs' after school on Wednesday - when we'll get our numbers, and it'll all feel horribly more real than it already does...

Distressingly, I qualify as a 'senior man'. Hrmm.

Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, Their shirts all soaked with sweat

Well...horse riding. I guess it's like riding a bike - once you're used to it, it's fine! The first time though...ffffffffffffff...well. I can't even say what it feels like, in polite company ;) (or in front of you lot.)

Anyway, it was lovely. I mean, the countryside, the sun, the horses were all well behaved - we even had a little trot. Which was, frankly, terrifying, and a I'm sure sacks of spuds would have been more graceful than...well, me.

But yeah, lovely. Sherlock loved it, and rewarded his horse afterwards with carrots and apples. And then insisted he'd also feed our horses. And that he should have a horse to get around London.


Our little lodge-thing is lovely, small but perfectly formed. And very peaceful. Well, it was until we arrived. Sherlock stalked a hedgehog last night (didn't actually see it, just heard it in the hedge.) Then discovered that some places you can have pet hedgehogs... that was a good conversation. Anyway, I don't think the degus would like it, even it was legal here.

He and Mycroft are in the hot tub at the moment. Mycroft is stretched out, relaxed, eyes closed. Sherlock is busy making his shorts inflate massively by sitting over bubble jets....

Here is our hot tub/view/deck/bovine neighbours. It's great for stargazing too, we saw all sorts last night, including shooting stars.

Very shortly John and I will be in that hot tub. Although right now it feels like even getting my leg over to get in might be a struggle!


Tomorrow we're going to go to a near by aquarium, I think. Or to the beach or something, we are people of leisure!

Here's a view from today:

Nice, eh? Very peaceful.

Let your soul guide you, He'll guide you well

Running is going well. I think we're a bit more confident after our long run, both know we CAN do it, so now we're just trying to improve time/technique etc.

Sherlock is getting excited about his double birthday celebrations. The actual birthday non-celebrations are becoming more celebratory. There is definitely cake. And he wants an outing, of some sort. We might go to a museum or gallery or something. And he wants dinner or lunch out. And then he wants all that again, but moreso, when Mycroft is here.

Why not, eh?

Work is busy. Some of you may be following some of our bigger cases. Not that it's exactly my team, but big investigations - especially multi-national ones, often need to take officers from other teams to help. And rightly so.

There's a severe amount of demoralisation in the force at the moment. I've heard a few officers - quite senior, some of them, talking about leaving. Good people. The sort you need to keep. It's a worry, I'll be honest, and it leads other people to think about it all, too.

Anyway, have a happier picture. This is us training for our run. Okay, I lie. It's just John training.

But love and years are not for sale, In our old house on the lake

The fire is lit, my sister is saying 'really, can't you put the phone down?'...oh, now I've told her I'm blogging not working, she's changed her tune and says 'Hi everyone!'.

Never go camping with your siblings when you're adults and have dependents. Campfire stories are a whole new kind of horror. I swear there isn't a thing about our childhood John now doesn't know. Including that she once discovered I had worn her underwear. thanks, Sis!


Anyway, apart from that, the tents are great, not like camping too much - just enough. Outdoors is right there, but indoors is dry and cosy and big enough to stand up in.

We've enjoyed the outdoors - walking and canoeing and clambering through trees.

Been a bit wet today, so we went on a steam train ride and then a boat trip. All sort of indoors - well, we had a roof over our head, anyway. If we wanted it.

I do feel sorry for the general public who stumble upon us all unexpectedly...

Old lady, to Sherlock, who has his chin on the rail of the boat and is staring into the water: "Are you looking for fish, dear? Have you seen any yet?"

Sherlock: "No, looking for dead bodies and I haven't seen one yet but Lestrade says there probably are some."*

*I did not say this, exactly. I said, in answer to his question, that there had probably been dead bodies in there at some time in history.

Anyway, she looked shocked and managed to stutter out a 'Good!'.

And it's been a YEAR since John forgot to run away and found himself swept along on the tide of life and somehow saying 'I do' to a registrar.

An amazing year. An amazing few years, but this last one has really been amazing. I need a word other than amazing here, don't I? But it is - has been - will keep on being, if we have our way!

Camping just always makes me think of John asking me to marry him. I...very much didn't expect it. Even though I'd sort of...well, wanted to do it myself, sometimes, I don't know, it's hard to explain.

Being here just brings it all home, anyway, the change - the difference in me. From all those years when I didn't want to see Nicky because I was embarrassed at what my life had become, to now, when we're all here, on holiday, and I'm proud of everything - the boys, John, I'm proud and happy and I want to share all that.


Right now, I'll share this, with you.

If I could only, I could only fly, I'd drift with them in endless space

So I've obviously bored everyone to death by moping about feeling sorry for myself for being here, and o counteract that, there's been a concerted effort in my inbox today to cheer me up.

Sherlock sent me a picture of John asleep in bed (John probably doesn't know that yet) with Maf wrapped around his head so her tail looks like he's grown an unfortunate beard.

Or maybe he's grown an unfortunate beard.

Then Jo sent me this, of Tadhg.

Come on everybody Let your spirits be free

Yesterday I got home, had a large moustache drawn upon me, went and got dressed in my leather jacket, jeans, boots, uniform cap and aviators, then came down and snuck up on John and sang this at him:



He only just survived being danced around the kitchen. He looked as if he was about to choke to death as he snorted with laughter and tried to tell me to sod off so he could finish making the tea.

Anyway, today...

We'll dance until we die, Wanna go out every night

I'm writing this, lying on the bed, with a glass of champagne on one side of me, and my husband on the other, in Paris.

Yup. Paris.

A short bike ride, a short train ride, a short bike ride....and we've gone from London to Paris!

On the way down from Calais we stopped at some war graves. Had some quiet time to think.

Also stopped near a little village and ate our lunch on a bench overlooking a stream - idyllic! Got bothered by some French ducks (they seem to speak the same language as English ducks. But prefer a better quality of bread.)

We did some of the journey on main roads, some on smaller roads that run parallel. It was great - and there was no rush. Then managed to get lost a few times in Paris itself, but it's quite nice getting lost - you find some lovely parts of the city! And you can generally see enough of a landmark to re-orientate yourselves, anyway.

We called home - Mrs Holmes was there with the boys. Mycroft commented that Paris had a very interesting sewage/water system. Sherlock then asked what was interesting about it... we suggested they could talk to each other instead of using us as intermediateries! So sorry, Mrs Holmes, if your dinner conversation was entirely about foreign sewer systems.

So...we've got so much we could do and see! We've both agreed that we have to go up the Eiffel Tower. Probably late one afternoon, and stay up until it's dark. Or we'll just go up twice, as it's open until Midnight... but tomorrow there might be lightning, apparently...so maybe not then ;)

I'd also like to take John up the Pompidou :) (there's a bar at the top!). And there's other things, but you'll hear about them, no doubt, as we go. Anyone has any very particular recommendations, don't keep them to yourselves.

Here's a picture of our room, and one from the top of the hotel, n the little roof terrace.

Our very Parisian view from our room.

Our very Parisian view from our roof.

Merci, John. J'adore tu!

Bonne Nuit tout le monde!*

*there is no guarantee anything written in Franglais for the next few days is vaguely correct, or even what I intended to say.

One day to come together, To release the pressure

I've been right down in the dumps recently. I don't know how John manages to go from dealing with me to dealing with Sherlock without it sending him around the twist.

Canoeing was great, the kids got really stuck in, no one was too scared/didn't want to do it etc. and they all enjoyed every minute of it. Lots of them wanted to go again, soon. Even thought it was on the river, the current was very gentle, but you could tell we were coming back faster than we paddled out! Only a few people needed rescuing when they got caught up on river bank weeds or went the wrong way around and panicked.

In other news that ought to have me happier than it seems to have managed, the guy from the other week went down for fifteen years. So...well, it never seems enough, frankly. But there we go.

So... apparently the kids are planning a holiday for us - our kids and Nicky's. Emails have been sent back and forth, text messages have been buzzing. At some point I imagine we'll be told what to pay for... it will doubtless be the craziest holiday ever. We old folk will just be along for the ride.

I'm off for the next two days, which will ben nice, and very welcome. John and I need to get going on some running, if we're going to manage this half marathon.

Thunder drowns out what the lightning sees

Tomorrow, Mrs N informs me, I will be getting wet. She told me to bring plenty of clothes...although hopefully none of the kids will take a dip! I imagine some of them will need pulling onto dry land, or hoiking out of their canoes etc. though. Anyway, I have plenty of shorts and t-shirts in a bag. And spare boxers, obviously!

I just wish John could come too.

Sherlock is very excited. Like, still awake, despite us needing to be at school early tomorrow! He is at least in his room now, supposedly having quiet time...

Mycroft and I cooked, and Sherlock and John ate, and everyone was happy, so that's good!

Jo and Lisa sent us a picture of little Tadhg, and he's very lovely and small and wrinkly.

Sherlock is taking this year's transition to the big class very well. I think he's quite looking forward to being one of the oldest in the school. Mycroft has taken to work in an exemplary fashion. He's already working shifts without the owner, and impressing everyone in the process. He joins us in sampling a bottle of wine now and again too, so that's another area where his knowledge is growing.

We went to the allotment today, did some more weeding (it never ends) and pondered why our french beans are all a bit...oddly shapen (Mary says it's because we water 'irregularly'). Sherlock is drawing us up a watering rota, as he does not appreciate misshapen beans. She also says our blueberry needs more acidic soil. Ericaceous compost is our best bet...so we'll have to get some, see if it does the trick.

after tomorrow, Sherlock is home for 6 long weeks...for the duration, I think John will also need watering regularly.

For absolutely no reason, except that it has given me a post title, have a picture of a tiny tortoise wearing a raspberry on its shell.

The policemen they're acting so tough.

The missing criminal, I'm glad to say, has been apprehended. He tried to leave the country, but for once, happily, someone was actually watching at the port, and they nabbed him. It's not often our ports are really watched, but hey, worked this time.

Sherlock has discovered that there is some form of school trip in the offing, to celebrate the end of term. I think there are options, but he has firmly chosen some sort of water-based adventure. He wants to go sailing, but as far as John's investigative work has gone, it seems to be canoeing that he'll actually do. He'll still love it, because his lust for life is insatiable, which is something to be seen. And envied, on occasion.

He found this earlier, and eagerly showed me when I got home. I wonder what we'll do that lasts that long...not much. It does make me wish, sometimes, that I made things, instead of....whatever it is that I do.

It's bloody hot here at the moment. Hot and sticky and generally unpleasant. But they say storms are in the offing, maybe at the weekend. Let's hope so. John says as much as he's watering the allotment every day it's still looking a bit droopy.

I was going to take tomorrow off, but now I've got court for the scrote we picked up. So I might take a bit of next week off instead. And then, shockingly, it's the summer holidays and there will be hours and hours of Sherlock to entertain. And we haven't even thought about a holiday yet.

Jess is two tomorrow. We haven't seen her and Rach for ages.

There will be another dream for me, someone will bring it

Well, Brazil are having another nightmare. Sadly I don't get anything for the Dutch coming third ;) I don't think it's very healthy for senior officers to win things like sweepstakes though - better if a lower rank does, really.

Sherlock loved his time on the boat, and, although he won't say it, I think he liked having John there. Sherlock knows he's not like other kids, and he needs people around who'll be sympathetic when he pushes boundaries (if they're new, untested boundaries - he knows exactly which ones he isn't to test any more!) So things like bedtime in an untested area, with all his schoolfriends - sometimes he needs a gentle hand to guide him.

Anyway, he loved it, took great joy in being the provider of horrible bedtime tales, had a great day the next day, when they did a bit of a walking tour of a few London sights before going to the Science museum for lunch, a look around, and finally home. Maf leapt on John and wiped herself all over him to stop him smelling like 30 schoolkids and re-mark him as her chief minion.

As you all know, being the worst person at 'taking it easy' in the world, I messed around in his room, as he's been saying he wants a den in there for ages. And I think it's right he has a nice private space he can go to, as he grows up. It's something I never had, and would have loved. He also knows nowhere is completely 'private' from John and I - there are no secrets when you're 8, sadly. It's a fine line, but one I think we get right more than wrong.

It's only forever, Not long at all, Lost and lonely

Nine years ago today, 52 people were killed on public transport in London. 700 were injured. Doesn't seem real it's nine years ago, feels like...months, maybe. Sometimes far far less.

And, as with all such happenings, as people ran, shocked, injured, horrified, other people went to help. Tube staff, police, bystanders. Some people who were down in those tunnels, injured themselves, didn't run, didn't leave, even though they could. They stayed and they saved lives.

I was at work, not one of the first responders, but once it became clear the scale of what had happened, teams were dispatched.

I worked on the Piccadilly, where the most people died. It was a long, painstaking investigation, with pressure to both explain who had been responsible, how they had done it, why they had done it, and also - and it is important, no matter how mundane it sounds - to get the transport system back working. And to allow the friends and families of the dead to mourn and move on. And that's hard, when the damage to the bodies is so vast. You don't get to see a body, have a final moment, say a proper goodbye.


Anyway, been thinking about that a lot today, as I've spent the day with John, and waved Mycroft off to work, and thought about a lot of things.

And now I've been writing this for bloody ages and still not written anything. I don't think I'm 100% back to normal. Or maybe I'm just examining everything I do too closely now. I feel like I keep sort of...zoning out. Or forgetting what I was doing/saying.

On Saturday, we were...well, I still can't say too much, but I'd been in communication with this man. On a Gay Sex Chatline. Because that had been the one link in a series of cases.

We expected him to try and talk me into going back to his. We didn't expect him to slip a drug in my drink. Or...well, I still don't know how he did it.

Luckily I had a wire on, and there were other officers in the club. So when I stopped talking, Sal could call up someone to get a bit closer, check up on me, and they knew something was up.

Ketamine, when you take enough, paralyses you. Your mind still works fine, or mine did, to begin with, except...yeah, well, before I even knew what was happening I was in trouble. The music was immense, I could feel it, it was as if it was slow motion, washing over me, and the lights were all...instead of strobes, they were wrapping around me, like something sci-fi.

I don't really know how to describe it. And it felt like it took a long time, hours, days maybe. Even when John arrived, it took me hours to reach him, because the noises and the lights still had me. I thought I was reaching out to him, but I wasn't. And anyway, he wasn't real.

The most lasting thing, I guess, the thing I still feel, in an odd way, was that I was incredibly lonely.


Upshot is, I think it's for the best that I don't go to the boat. Mycroft and I will have a nice night in, John can cope with what will seem like hundreds of tiny banshees all refusing to sleep, in a confined space, and we'll think of him as we relax with some gourmet food and maybe a bottle of wine ;)

Is it worth the aggravation, To find yourself a job when there's nothing worth working for?

It's Mycroft's first day at work tomorrow. They're going to see how he gets on, and if he's happy to, he's going to work the weekend too, to help with the rush.

If he doesn't feel ready, he'll just work weekdays for now, starting before the lunch rush until they close. But I've a feeling he'll do fine.

He's got a little apron to wear, and a black waistcoat, white shirt, black trousers - looks very smart! He actually seems sad not to be wearing a tie though, odd boy :)

Obviously we're all thinking about the freebies...I mean, wishing him well.

Sherlock already wants to visit. Which has led to low-level bickering of the sort only siblings can manage to keep going for so long.


In the allotment, our beans are growing up, our tomatoes are shooting away now, and even our spring onions, which everyone doubted, seem to be doing okay.

Lettuce is just an ongoing battle.


Work is really eating at me at the moment. I can't tell you all anything about the op, but...it's not much fun. And although I'm happy that I'm the right person to run the op, and when we catch the guy, it will be very much for the good, I'm not enjoying it.


When I was younger, people used to call me a 'pretty boy'. And I can't pretend I didn't use that, sometimes, to my advantage. But I definitely grew to hate it, too. What it was used as shorthand for. And when I joined the force, it changed, but people still thought I was younger, less experienced, than I was. People didn't take me seriously, I guess it boiled down to. Everyone always says coppers are getting younger, so I suppose having a young face didn't help. Didn't help with my confidence either, at first, especially with my background. Like I said to DW the other day, I felt like a fraud, for many reasons - my background, my sexuality, some of my ... thoughts on the people we locked up, the people we dealt with. Of course, when everyone's on refs talking about the scum down the local estate, the slag who's been sexually assaulted by the drunk boyfriend, you don't get to fight back, to say it could have been any one of us, because that's not how it works.

Of course now, now I'm more comfortable in my own skin, now I have the rank, I can speak up, and I do. And maybe sometimes that's the only way you can win the battles, by doing what you can, when you can, and accepting there are some fights it's not worth picking.

There were definitely times I thought I was in the wrong place. But I suppose whenever I really thought about anything else I could be doing, I just knew this was where I should be. And I knew I would never forgive myself if I gave it up. But it could easily have been the other way - knowing it wasn't right, and setting out on a new path.

Anyway, didn't quite mean to get sidetracked by all that. And now Sherlock is hanging off me wanting fruit with ice cream and John is trying to untie a knot in Maf's favourite fishy toy whilst she valiantly tries to kill it.

And here's a page John showed me earlier, to cheer me up. Can't believe the cheek of the florist though!! They must read this blog ;)

But, keep it up, honey, You're the best time I've ever had

I got a score right! It's been a while ;)

Tennis..not so good.

Baking, very good!! Tried a new recipe out, after Sherlock said he wanted banoffee pie, and this was the result...

Not that there's that much left now! And rightfully so, all that fresh cream...anyway, it has fruit in it, so it's healthy, right?

Work's been busy, and I've got some time off at the end of this week - Thurs-Sunday, so I can spend some time with John, and be around for Mycroft's return!

I managed to get to the gym in my 'lunchbreak' today - we've got one at the yard. Of course, the result of that was just being completely starving for the rest of the afternoon, so...well, that wasn't the intention.


Last night Maf was pouncing on one of her toys and attached herself to the carpet - she does that often enough, but this time she struggled free and ripped a claw. She then shot off, limping, to hide under the kitchen cupboards. John, being cat-extractor in chief, went into action.

I gave helpful advice. Like 'grab her!'.

He managed to get her out, and I tried to hold her while he had a look at her paw, but she's like a greasy eel, and in the end we had to cocoon her in a towel. She didn't take kindly to it, and bit me. But John did finally manage to get most of her in the towel, with the paw in question out of the towel, and removed a scraggly bit of nail, stopped the bleeding and then taped one of Sherlock's socks to her leg (not to her fur, obviously) so she couldn't lick it. Anyway, she seems okay today, just limping about, but John says there's no swelling or infection, so we're just going to try and keep her claws a bit shorter to stop it happening again. She generally doesn't mind being held and stuff.

Now, when twilight dims the sky above, Recalling thrills of our love

Well, Brazil haven't had a dream start, have they?? Mind you, neither have England.

Work is busy - it's been hot, money is tight, the football is on, summer holidays are coming... it's all a perfect storm for frayed tempers, too much alcohol, too little...I don't know, care? Empathy?

Have mainly dealt with serious assaults, recently. Mainly fuelled by drugs or alcohol and over money. It's all very...tiring, I guess. The daily grind of people stuck, living in the same places as their attackers, sometimes even with counter-allegations, sets of neighbours at war, people in the same house at war, kids at war. It really just gets you down.

However, returning home is always lovely, with the footy, Sherlock leaping about, frequently topless, as if getting fully changed after school is just too much time wasted.

Sometimes pursued by Maf, if her Mafness isn't too busy having a snooze in the sun. Although she is a bit brighter and less destructive now she's lost her lampshade.

Here's a pic of Mycroft's latest effort, given that I imagine not many of us will ever see this for ourselves...

Then I awake and look around me, at the four grey walls that surround me

Well...football. Silly old game, eh?

I love the recent quote on the pitch England have their first match on (much has been made recently of the fact it doesn't look very good) "It's looking a lot better today, a lot greener...that's because they've painted it." Ah well, as long as it LOOKS okay, what else matters?

Oh, crap...torn now. Want the Dutch to do well, as they're mine in the sweeps! But I wanted it to end 1-1 for our little competition. (okay, with this scoreline, I'm quite enjoying it again!!) And I LOVE the spray for free kicks. We should definitely get that over here.

Today has been a tedious one where I decided I had to clear my paperwork piles of 'non urgent' things, because it couldn't really get any bigger without being a health hazard.

My signature is on a par with a doctor's - just a squiggle, doesn't even resemble anything any more. So I've been squiggling, adding notes, and staring out of the window waiting for home time.

And now I have what feels like the start of a migraine.... will it stop me drinking this nice mojito? Probably not...

For those of you struggling, the last lyrics which formed the post title were Oasis, and some of the video for the song were filmed at Southend, where we were. :)

The day's moving just too fast for me, I need some time in the sunshine

This morning we escaped the city, the buildings, the crime, the grime...and went to the seaside.

Sherlock, reliably, woke us up horrifically early, and was only pacified by offerings of food and drink for a very short while.

We dragged John out of bed, stuck him on his bike, mounted up on mine and....got as far as The City. Where we stopped for coffee and food, given John had woken up, and it was definitely going to be a multiple-coffee sort of day.

It was nice being out so early, passing all of the sights in London with the roads virtually to ourselves.

Then, with the sun already beating down on us, we were off.

It was still surprisingly quiet when we reached our destination - Southend. Home of the cockney beach-goer ;)

The water was flat calm - we'd actually arrived at slack water, so even flatter than it was the rest of the time.

Where you come from? Do you put the kettle on?

for those of you asking, the cock-up tin at work is where people have to donate money when they...well, clue's in the name, cock-up.

Cocking up involves losing equipment - cuffs, radios, phones, warrant cards, cars, big keys, all sorts. Suspects, sometimes.  Forgetting things - lots of the above, plus warrants. Breaking things - most frequently cars.

It's used to buy us a few rounds of drinks at Christmas, the rest goes to COPS.


And yes, I've made quite a lot of donations over the years.


Anyway, i got the Netherlands in the sweepstake. Not too shabby.

Sal got Iran. Don't talk to her about it.

But definitely sign up for Joolz predictions game!

It's just for fun.


Tomorrow, poor little Maf is going to be...coming back from the vet with less than she went with.

She's sitting on John right now, getting her ears scratched, blissfully unaware. (She may read this later, and terminate us in our sleep. If so, good bye. Nice knowing you.)

I do feel sorry for her, even though I'm sure it's for the best. And she definitely needs the op before the dogs and everyone are back home and it gets manic again. She'll need some time to sit about looking sorry for herself, probably in a cone of shame, being spoiled rotten.


We've had an epic bedtime battle tonight - because Mycroft told Sherlock that, technically, London would not enter night-time again until...July sometime. Sherlock thought this meant he didn't have to go to bed. He still does. But still, interesting to know that we're far enough North that we don't technically enter 'night' for a portion of the year.

I'm a man child, I'm a rollin' stone

Today feels like it's been about a million hours long.

Started, and I really wish it hadn't, by a discussion about poo transplants, courtesy of Sherlock (subject banned for the duration of breakfast.) Then a lovely breakfast of pancakes and fruit. A quick tidy up, last load of laundry on, and rooms clean and tidy, everything put away etc... fresh clean clothes (including underwear) packed, and we headed out.

Sky was very grey, but there were only a few spots of rain on our way out of town. Definitely no sun to be baking dry our mudbaths we were heading for :)

We had a small snack, because our session wasn't until after lunch, got all our gear together...and went for it!

To say it was muddy is an understatement. It was completely glorious. You couldn't see anything apart from mud, mud, muddy trees, muddy fences, mud, mud, mud and mud.

Generally brilliant. Occasionally hilarious.

Because the going is, you could generously say, 'soft', I like going fast. We all do!

So when I was half a wheel deep in a puddle, barrelling along... and my front tyre caught in one rut, my back tyre wedged in a different rut... John described the splash I made as I did a front flip over the bars and into the water as 'blotting out the entire landscape'.

That was the point, as liquid mud washed around in my boxers, that my first conversation of the day came back to me...

Spring was never waiting for us 'til it ran one step ahead

First, public service announcement - Please Vote! Or live with the consequences of other people choosing who represents you. And I remind you, other people are sometimes morons.


Anyway, that done, Sherlock's absolutely outraged that he's been stuck at home, not allowed to the polls with either of us. The ballot paper for the European elections was actually taller than him, I think. And full of horrible parties! Anyway, seeing the number of people who can't tell the difference between white and yellow who were out voting, I'm glad I went ;)

Here's the recipe I'm going to make in a bit for Mycroft - in time for it to mature into it's flavours and be perfect for eating.

Work's been busy, paperwork central, meetings, various levels of outrage at current politics, more meetings... I don't know, it's a funny old job sometimes, being caught between an office and a crimescene. Funny old weather at the moment, too. Big thunderstorms today, interspersed with beautiful sunshine.


Still, next week is half term, we'll get Mycroft back, Sherlock will have yet more time off...but hopefully time he can enjoy, and I'm having half the week off, at least, to spend with everyone, and hopefully give John a bit of a break.



Speaking of, here is John, courtesy of Murray, this time.

Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.

I'm feeling almost as sick as Sherlock (he says I'm not, that's ridiculous, he's ACTUALLY ill.)

Arsenal will soon be kicking off against Hull at Wembley. I am terrified. We haven't won any silverware since 2005.


Shit...Sherlock has pointed out he wasn't BORN in 2005. (He's next to me, reading this. He says hello and thank you for all hoping he's better soon. He's REALLY ill. And it's boring.)

Anyway, yes, for the next short while I will be on the edge of my seat (no, probably not liter...actually, yes, probably literally.) because...well...the FA Cup. It's actually a new cup this year - the third, I think? ever made.

I feel so ill. I am so nervous.

To be fair Hull have never won anything..ever. So they're probably more nervous than I am.


For those of you not interested in footy, you can ponder upon whether John actually lied to us all, and learnt his Doctoring in the Navy, not the Army. He certainly seems to have taken note of their training...and he often seems to think I'm in need of artificial respiration...

Sherlock says I'm being stupid :)

He's very poorly, he asks me to remind you. He's a heap of blankets and pyjamas at the moment, with a waterbottle and some fruit within reach.

John's out right now, I sent him out, told him to try and take a bit of time to enjoy the weather, in amongst getting a few bits. He'd do well to stay out while I shout at the TV, really....


And I have a dilemma.

I want to take some time off to spend with John. If I do this next week, then I'll be tending to a sick Sherlock, which I also want to do! But...it won't exactly be the time together with my husband I was hoping for. but then I also feel terrible going to work and leaving John as full time doctor to the small spotty one...

Maybe I'll take a couple of days, to give Danger a few days respite...I don't know. I'm sure someone will tell me what to do ;)

Because of my shoes, I'm wearing today...

Firstly, most importantly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MYCROFT! You have now entered that awkward twilight zone, where you can get married and buy a house - even join the army! But...you can't yet vote for the people who control all of those things...

You can work full time! But you can't buy alcohol or cigarettes... You can fly a glider! But not drive a car.

You can, however....start your scooter lessons. ;)

John and I did a little research the other day, when I was off. Visited a few bike schools. It's amazing how all the trainers claim to be the absolute best when two bikers turn up, one of whom is a DI, asking about lessons for their boy...

So, with Mrs Holme's agreement, John and I have 'given' Mycroft some bike lessons - for him to arrange whenever he wants to. He said he'd like to go to the off road place one more time before he actually starts 'for real', and also that he might not get much time before his exams, but still, he can get his licence all sorted out, and then go for it!

His Mum, in the spirit of allowing her eldest some hard-won freedom, has agreed to match his wages when he goes to work this summer, so he can save up and get himself a nice bike, and any further gear he needs :)  (We can only assume she's also putting swathes of security through their CBT too - only kidding Mycroft ;) )

(although maybe you should get a quad, so the dogs can hang on the back...not sure if they count as passengers or not??)

So happy birthday, kiddo, we hope you enjoy your freedom.


Anyway, on a completely different note...Eurovision!

I hope some of you will join in - I shall be passing comment ;) Murray said he'd turn up 'with enough beer to make it bearable'. Jo and Lisa said they'd probably come, depending on how knackered they are. I think Mrs Hudson will come up and join us, too - she's never one to turn down a nice young Europop moppet in a bit of leather ;) John has rolled his eyes so hard I'm surprised his head hasn't fallen off, but smiled indulgently. Sherlock has promised to dance with me.

Anyway, starts 8pm BST, if you can work it out from that. And you can watch, apparently, on the official Eurovision website. Live, free and legal!

My feet don't hardly make no sound

We all had a lovely walk yesterday.

I think, if the boys do sort out cloning, that I'd like an Anthea. I have no idea how Mrs H found her, or where, but I'm beginning to think she was actually manufactured specifically for the purpose.

So we biked out to the countryside, and Anthea played dog-taxi, then she looked after all of our bike gear so we could go on a long ramble around the sun-soaked countryside.

The dogs were great, bounding all over the place, having the time of their lives. As was Sherlock.

We all ran amok, but the dogs are so big and excitable that I discovered if you run amok in too silly a fashion, they just accidentally flatten you. And then your husband laughs like a drain. I just didn't see the dog coming - I was halfway through a particularly balletic leap, when WHAM, dog from the side meant I met the turf - luckily not a cow-pat! And then the dog tried to lick me to death - no dog gets to lick me when it's spent half the walk trying to eat rabbit poo, thanks all the same.

Anyway, here are some views.

Pppppprrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

rrrrprrrrrrrrrrrrrrggg rrrr rrrrrrrrr prrrrrrr krrrrrrkrrrrrrrrprrrrrrrr

Ignore that, humans. That is a message for the feline overlords who monitor this channel.


I have the grey human under my control. He is weak against my powers. Although the other human, John, is even weaker. I am definitely keeping him. He not only bought me this nice house, but he also has a warm head and provides food readily.

He is currently trying to train the grey human to provide such things for me too. The grey one is rather slow though. I will keep him for a while, however, to see if he can be trained satisfactorily. It is useful that he leaves my house most days, giving me more time with the John human.

However, if the grey one keeps tickling my ear fur to make me twitch them, I will kill him. I will rip his face off during the night and wear it as a hat.


The small one amused himself earlier by playing with a piece of string with some crude rendering of a fish attached to it. As the John human was attempting to wash their ridiculous body-coverings, as they seem incapable of growing proper fur, I indulged him by joining in his pointless activity.

The other one, with the two large stupid four legged creatures seems to be missing. I am not sure where they have gone. The grey one, John one and small one do not seem concerned. Either there is nothing to worry about, or they are so stupid they have yet to realise he is missing.


Earlier today the John human left my house for a while. I washed myself, and, as this was tiring, I fell asleep in the sun. Upon his return I sniffed him to check he had not been anywhere I did not approve of, and then allowed him to brush me, so as to make him feel wanted.


Shortly he will attempt his new nightly ritual of putting me into the hanging throne and worshipping me, before going to his own sleeping space. However, just as the grey one does, I will follow him in there and make use of his body warmth. His hair is a pleasing colour, although it seems to be copying the grey one's. I feel sure I can reverse this, and instead change it to a fetching orange colour.

I will report back with further new of their training.

Pour myself a cup of ambition

As most of you will have seen, Mycroft got offered the job :)

I don't think it's every day of the week...but I might be wrong. And he said something about sometimes just working afternoons, when they get very busy selling lunches and ice-creams and things.

He gets to look very smart, in a shirt and a black apron.


Work was hellish today, owing to the demise of our coffee machine. Drastic measures had to be taken. We ended the day with a cafetiere, but it couldn't keep pace with the demand for coffee. Didn't help my already grumpy mood at going back to work - I could've happily had a Sherlock-style strop at 6am, an declared everything unfair. But Maf was already in my space in the bed. So I came to work.

Cases were...well, okay. I don't understand why people don't plead guilty in the face of completely overwhelming evidence. I mean...when they don't have a cause to publicise or anything.

Sherlock has just about calmed down, after a rough few days of Mycroft leaving and school starting. Not long until the summer break, which seems incredible. He enjoyed celebrating St George's day and Shakespeare's birthday, sounded like they did a lot of acting. Probably a good way for the teachers to let them all run off the last of the holiday steam.

I do worry about how he'll cope when he moves to the much more structured learning of big school. Never mind the exams... I think he might excel in things he enjoys, and let others fall seriously by the wayside. And I can't say I blame him... Maybe he will just have to invent his own job one day so no employer ever cares about his exam marks. And hope a Uni takes him, if he wants to go.


Maf has explored her new hanging kingdom. Queendom? I don't know. She seems to like it, along with enjoying digging her claws into my leg and acting as a makeshift hat for John. Maybe she's attracted to his hair? Thinks it's a rather small, flat, cat.

And finally, I'd love to go here.

And Nicky sent me this - think you could do it, Danger?

Follow this link, sorry, it's Facebook, I don't know how else to link it and the computer genius is back at school! by Paulo Molina.

Gettin' up the nerve is a man's man's job

First day of the course over - we sat in a classroom, then ran about wearing far too much gear and shouting a lot. Now I'm doing my homework for the tests tomorrow.

Got home to the general air of chaos. Finally found out what had been planted at the allotment (beans). John caught the meaty-pawed dog before it trod cat food into the carpet.

Discovered one small pretending-to-sleep kitten can occupy an entire half of the sofa (If I try that I get told to budge up, or get John's feet in my lap or something. Kitten gets away with it completely unmolested.)

And finally, after some careful questioning, found out that Mycroft has been invited to have a 'trial day' at a local deli, with view to possibly getting a job there in the summer. The lady who part-owns it was impressed by his politeness, manner and, in Sherlock's words 'He knew stuff about cheese'. She is also forewarned that he is related to an ice-cream vacuum, given we went there a few times last year, because in the summer they sell ice cream.

So yeah, they sell cheese, meats, olives, oils etc. A few specialist ingredients. And do a lunchtime sandwich thing, made fresh in front of you from what they sell.

And a few other interesting things.


I saw a thing today that said if food prices had gone up as much as house prices, a chicken would cost £52.

I dunno if I should sell my place. It's...difficult. I mean, the tenants are fine, although having said that I should arrange a day to pop in and check the place over, in case it's a crack den. but...well, I'm feeling more and more like I don't need it.

Which is good. And I'd always keep enough cash back, just in case. The average price here in London has gone up by £63k in the past year - double the average wage. It's madness, right?

Yes I am the fox, a fascinating cross Of sharp as a whip and tough as an ox

Mycroft has just made me an exquisite bacon sarnie for lunch! Perfect, with some mayo, avocado, bacon, black pepper... we should keep him around ;)

Sherlock has announced he could run the marathon tomorrow. Sadly he's left it a bit late to enter. Or train. Or be born - I'm pretty sure you need to be 16 or something. Apparently this shouldn't matter.

I think John really wishes he had entered though. We might go and watch a bit tomorrow, or they might, if I'm asleep...


Last night was surveillance, which is always boring. But we ended up getting some good intelligence by the end of the night.

Also had this girl visiting us.

She was obviously doing her own surveillance. Hope she had a good night too.


There were lots of ginger and white hairs on my side of the bed this morning... although John tried to keep up his denial that she's taking over ;)

She also followed me to the toilet, which left me in fear of what sort of things she might pounce on...plus it's very odd, going about your ablutions whilst under close scrutiny of a small moglet.


Anyway, got a far more interesting op running tonight, trying to find a guy who stabbed someone last week. Going to be out on the street, actually doing things, which makes me happy.

Take that look from off your face

So after John's last post, Maf came and had a little word with me.

She thinks I've set a bad example, putting up photos where John doesn't look his best. So I'm very sorry for that. She said she wasn't very happy that he'd put up that pic of her looking a bit unwashed. I told her I'd sort it out...

But I did also tell her I might put up a photo of her stuck in the sofa cushions, or trying to lick her own bum...

Told John the same thing ;)

So here's their response:

Our birthday trip

Hello it's Sherlock and I want to show you some pictures of our holiday to the Isle of Wight and it was good but it wasn't long enough because of stupid school except Mrs N says we're going to have a donkey come in and see us and that won't be stupid.

Happy Birthday Doc!

Happy birthday to my amazing husband.

He means the world to me. His kindness, generosity, spirit and love improve not just my world, but that of everyone he meets.

John Hamish Lestrade Watson, I love you.

Victim of the system, say it isn't so

John has continued with his habit of bringing home waifs and strays. Now his menagerie is - two boys, one husband, two dogs, two degus and a kitten.

Apparently she was wandering about near a crime scene, and hasn't eaten any dead people. She's of the age where her paws and ears are still too big for her. I'm hoping she doesn't still need an adult cat to ...do things for her. Apparently they should eat four times a day. She's eaten some plain chicken so far. Sherlock and John lay on the floor feeding her bits of it. She seemed happy enough.

Sherlock has named her Maftet (he's agreed to a slight spelling change, owing to unfortunate leaps of imagination from the original 'Mafdet'). She's got quite a lot to live up to, with a name like that.

She needs a bath. And I have no idea where she's going to sleep.

We're both off tomorrow, and Mycroft doesn't need picking up until Saturday, so I guess we'll be visiting a vet, and getting her checked over. And then I'll try to make doughnuts with Sherlock, while John plays with her...

At the moment she's gnawing on John's finger.


Work was busy today, getting lots done before being off for the weekend. Had some good results recently, so the team are all happy. Everyone passed the fitness tests, which is also good. happy team, happy DI.


Sherlock wants to go for a nice long bike ride at the weekend, and the weather looks promising, so we'll probably go off on an adventure once we have Mycroft. Just see where life takes us, get some lunch in a pub somewhere, maybe have a walk somewhere new before turning back for home. Sounds good to me! And it's nice that Sherlock suggested it - good to know we have shared interests ;)

And then Mycroft will be home for what seems like forever - nearly a month! Sherlock is not happy that he only gets two weeks. Face like thunder, when we told him he didn't break up until later.

Still the fox is growing older, As he calls over his shoulder to the night

We went out for a jog today. bumped into a sponsored run thing for Sport Relief, so we decided all to do it - including Sherlock.

He literally ran rings around us. We thought he'd find three miles a bit far/boring. Now we're not so sure. He was so full of energy, dancing about, running off, coming back to us, running off again. He must have done at least 2 miles. And at the end we all got a medal :)

Now, in other news - anyone know where you can get 4 finger nitrile gloves? There's an officer on another force who had to have a finger amputated, and now needs gloves for crime scenes/searches etc. They're stuck!


Found this, and laughed a lot...our two get terrible confused when they drop things and then can't get under the sofa to retrieve them, or if you pretend to throw a ball but don't let go of it..





My cough is...boring. but I feel a million times better. Which is good, as I've got to do my assessment next week. My eyes passed with flying colours - no worse than last time, just reminded me to wear my glasses more. Hmmm.

Got nights soon, too. At least it's not so cold now. The allotment does actually look like someone cares for it again, and we're hopeful that our beans and peas and spuds will all flourish soon. The soil's still a bit heavy - very clay-y round these parts. But with some sun on it, everything (meaning weeds) seems to be doing ok.

We'll get some tomatoes in once we're ready. Someone gave us some lavender the other day, which we've added to our herb-y corner :)

Now, toad in the hole is almost cooked, with roast spuds and parsnips and veggies! Mmm.

You make my mundane life all worth while

Hello. I'm really, really, REALLY bored of coughing. Why on earth did I smoke for so long? That made me have a sort of...perma-cough. And I barely noticed it. Now, this has been going on...about a day and a half? And I am SICK of it. Still, at least my lungs aren't just big black blobs loitering about in my chest now.

It's probably all the running, terribly bad for you, exercise like that ;)

Anyway, John is tending to me with hot toddies. Sherlock is just telling me I have to be better. Which I will try. It is art club, after all. And days off. I'd say that I'll at least get a lie in... but probably not.

(By the way, whenever John says 'I want a lie in', or the like, I always respond with 'We can't have a lion, wouldn't fit in the flat/a lion would eat the dogs/A lion? Wouldn't that be cruel?' and the like. To which he always (predictable!) Responds by saying 'Lie In!' To which, obviously, I always say 'Lion? Where would you even get one?'...anyway, this can go on for ages, and he gets exactly like Sherlock does when you pretend not to understand him (or just...don't understand him) I can almost see him holding back the urge to stamp his foot...)

I think I might be delirious, letting you in on these odd snippets of our lives...

Anyway, I was horrible the other day. So have a lovely picture of John instead. Because he is.

Go shave a sheep and knit yourself a sweater

Apologies for the poor quality of this blog. I'm too tired to write much.

So far...we've been rubbish at the training schedule, because I worked too late.

Bryan was in court today. I asked someone who works there to let me know the outcome. Fine and suspended sentence. Not sure how I feel about it. I don't know if prison would do him some good, or put him in touch with some 'real' criminals. Nor do I know why i care.

The weekend was so completely amazing - John worked it all out, with just a tiny bit of help from Mrs H somehow getting us into a corporate box! It was amazing. And we won! And the weather was gorgeous - and Anthea even delivered Mycroft to us, so he didn't miss out! He's home this weekend, so I definitely wasn't expecting to see him - well, I wasn't expecting any of it. It was just brilliant, everything, even my sneaky sergeant fixing the rotas at work.

So...some of you have expressed the need of more pictures of my gorgeous husband.

But clearly if you actually find him irresistible then... you wouldn't be able to resist him. Which would end badly for me.

Therefore I'm only actually using this picture for his (my) own good, right? And he doesn't have any food hanging out of his face! Sorry for the bizarre colour/quality. I messed with my phone setting and don't know how to un-mess.

Let me steal this moment from you now

I'm not sure of the exact sequence of events, but I think Mycroft sent this video to Sherlock, who then watched it, began speaking at approximately a billion words a minute, and made John and I watch it while insisting we had to try it RIGHT NOW.

This was all last night, where we weren't even trying to get off the sofa.

Anyway, watch it, and if any of you want to install one in your living room and invite Sherlock round, please do!





Anyway, today he's excited about this new reading corner in his school room, which is nice. Apparently it's got snakes and plants and a parrot and a large panda. And bean bags. I imagine pandas would quite like bean bags. It is lovely hat he's so enthusiastic about everything. Except no frog has deigned to spawn in his pond yet, which he's miffed about.


John is in a distressingly chipper mood, given our run yesterday. And announcing things about running up mountains. Yesterday we ran/jogged/walked along a canal. You literally can't get flatter than a run on a towpath...and today he's on about mountains! I couldn't even manage the stairs at work today...and not even little UK mountains. Massive French mountains.


I've absolutely no idea what's going on (as usual), but Sherlock announced earlier that he knows what's happening on Saturday... anyone else know what's happening on Saturday??

They'll think of something funny, When they write your epitaph

Sometimes I think I'm really not cut out to deal with people who actually seem to like me. I'm fine at work, because it's rare anyone does. 'Customers' I mean, not colleagues. Colleagues are...well, they're all fine, but it's not as if I worry if they like me or not. As long as it doesn't get in the way of the job, I don't really care. It's a job, not a popularity contest.

Anyway, sometimes I wonder where that comes from. Or if everyone doesn't feel a bit like that.

I don't like self pity. I'll come straight out with that, because what I'm about to say probably sounds much like it.

I suppose I like being in control, is what it comes down to. And accepting there are things I'm not in control of. Or not responsible for. I want to fix everything. So I try to. And then, inevitably, I fail, because...they are not things of which I am in control. And then I feel bad. And then I feel bad about feeling bad, because it's as if I've not only failed to fix the (unfixable) problem, but then I am the problem, too. Or deflecting attention from the problem. When...really I shouldn't have stuck my oar in at all and it definitely shouldn't be about me.

I've sat here looking at that for quite a long time now and I'm not sure it makes any sense.


Tomorrow we're cleaning up the school. The outdoor area has been neglected over the winter, and now the kids are gearing up to play outside more again, it needs a good tidy. And Sherlock wants the pond tidied before any frogspawn appears. He says it's 'due any time now', so there we go. Need to attract the spawniest frogs, clearly. No one'll come and live in a scruffy pond. So there's been a quick ad hoc gardening party organised for tomorrow afternoon, where people will come if they can for as long as they can, and get stuff done. I want to clean out the pumps at the least, cut back some vegetation, that sort of thing.


The seminar went well. Odd place to go back to. Not the best memories in the world, that hotel.

You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to

I found this.

Sherlock is not allowed to use the first expression.

Nor is anyone to call me the one which refers to policemen.

I read something about World War One slang which made it into common use (much of it still in common use, too) and one which I wish had stuck is 'zeppelins in the clouds' meaning bangers and mash. Brilliant.

I do like language, especially when it's all the same language, and dialect bits, or just changes from historical splits - like English and American/Canadian/Australian etc. But even more when it's just English dialect. Although it was the source of a lot of teasing when I first moved to London.


We've said goodbye to Mycroft once more. I swear that the dogs have as much stuff as he does. And we couldn't find Phobos' favourite chew toy. It's a big...like a fake tyre, on a rope. He loves it. Deimos didn't help by parading about with the huge red bone he likes in his mouth. All smug and 'I'm ready to go, what's the hold up?'

John did provide a perfect moment when he stood in the middle of the room, Phobos looking up at him, all wide eyed, and John looked at him and said "Well where did you see it last?" Exactly like he does with Sherlock...

Anyway, found in the kitchen cupboard. Don't ask me how it got there.

So, yes, Mycroft's gone back. And dropped the bombshell that he's considering other 6th Forms, not just Harrow, for next year...

 We're back home. We've been fed. I'm putting the final touches to my seminar, which I'm delivering on Tuesday...now, leave early Tuesday morning, stay over until Weds... or leave Monday night, back Weds....which one?

John is checking Sherlock's homework, piece by piece, to check he hasn't only done the ones he wants to...although it's a bit late now!

And tomorrow, everyone will be back to their respective workplaces, or in John's case, he'll get his workplace back and undoubtedly try to rebuild it, after a week of boys and dogs and chaos.

Don't accept average habits, Open your heart and push the limits.

We're home! We're a bit wet around the edges, but we're home.

(Big debate this morning - train or bikes? The boys were immediate and unanimous in their answer - BIKES.)

So we headed off and up to Bletchley Park. A nice ride this morning, although Sherlock was wriggling about - like having an eel behind me on the bike.

Once we were there, an in, Sherlock obviously wanted to DO everything, while Mycroft wanted to know what was going on, and when.

So off we strolled, having been kitted out with little ...well, earphones and screens, that fit in your pocket, you know? To the main house, to find out which talks and things we could go and see/walk around with.

Well...the boys decided we needed to do a walking tour, then a talk about the Enigma machine, then a talk about The Bombe... so we did.

The walking tour was very interesting. Amazing to think of all those people, not even knowing what each other did, let alone telling anyone outside what was happening in there! The poor guys who were getting abuse for not being in uniform, as if they weren't 'doing their bit' and unable to defend themselves... the people who arrived single, and left married...still without knowing what their new spouse did! The people who arrived married...and left married to someone different!

And the pressure...the thought that so many lives were in your hands, when they were only 18, 19 years old. Amazing.

Anyway, after that we got coffee (this is a bit of a theme...) and then headed for the first talk. It was in the ballroom - very impressive.

It was...very interesting. I do sort of understand it...sort of. Clever machine.

Then I got another coffee... and we went to the talk about The Bombe. Same old guy... well, I was lost. I mean, really really early on, when we were still on the 'simple' part, I was completely lost...I'm still lost. If you find me, do tell me where I am.

I mean, I can tell it was completely amazing, what they did. I just...don't quite understand how they got there. Mycroft tried to explain, but...well, maybe I should do some reading on it. Mycroft went and spoke to the guy afterwards, and thanked him for his very informative talk.

It's not so hard to do, And it'll carry you through

Well. Feels like a lot has happened this week.

In completely the wrong order - Mycroft got wonderful reports from all his teachers. They're almost as proud of him as we are, it would seem. I know he'll be very modest, but he is just an all-round wonderful young man. I hope he'll manage to find quite a lot of time to relax this half term - I know he's got work to do, but we're definitely going to try and all get out places together, too.

Anyway, we'll be back to fetch him for the holiday tomorrow. I guess they put this evening right by when a lot of travelling parents will be down to pick up their boys anyway.


So that's all good. And although Mycroft said he didn't do as well as he wanted in his mocks...I'm sure it won't surprise any of you to know he did extremely well. He just holds himself to incredibly high standards.


And.... well, yes, Bryan. I don't know if it's a long story, or I've just over thought it, or what... Basically, he got the custody sergeant to call me when he was arrested. And... I still don't know what he thought. But he was obviously worried. I just went to the stock phrases. First offence, nothing I could do anyway. I didn't know what to do, I mean...who would have expected that? So then he got angry, said I was ruining him, because he was about to make it big in America, and this would ...mess that up. So I just said the only person who'd messed up was him, and told the custody sarge not to call me again. (The calls are done on speakerphone, so the sarge's can hear both sides of the conversation.)


And...well, I was worried, I'll be honest. I thought he could do something vindictive once he was out.


Then today he called my office. Told me I had to help him. Tried some of the old tricks that used to work - the blackmail, the threats, picking at my insecurities. Except that so many of those insecurities he used to rely on don't exist any more - not like they used to, anyway.

So then I just got angry. And I thought, you know, actually, he's bloody called me, so he can listen to me for once - for as long as it took him to realise he could hang up, anyway. And that actually took quite a long time. Shock, I guess. So I told him a few home truths that have been stewing away inside me. Which I won't go into, because... well, because I don't want to be like that. But yeah, it felt good, knowing that he knew what I thought of him, and he knew I wasn't afraid to say it. And he knew I was proud and happy with my family, and what they thought of him.

So, apart from scaring some of my officers with the ferocity, volume and amount of swearing going on, it was a good thing to happen, really.


I very much doubt he'll go to prison or anything, but he'll at least be given something to think about.

My report on today at school

Hello it's Sherlock and Today John and Lestrade and Molly came to school after lunch and we did about bodies and how you can find out things using science about what happened to a body if it's dead.

John and Lestrade made up plasticine last night and it was just like big blobs and they didn't even tell me what they were which wasn't fair.

Then at school we had to get into groups and then we each got a piece of the plasticine and then Lestrade showed us all his warrant card and he explained that our plasticine was dead and that with Molly and John's help we had to find out how it had died which is silly because plasticine can't die but anyway Lestrade said later it couldn't be like a body in case some people got scared and so it was just coloured plasticine.

John told us we had to look all over and see if there were signs on the outside of anything and one group found an actual stab wound and my piece had a mark from a rope so first Molly came and told our groups we had to draw a picture of what we could see, and then we mixed up some special rubber and we put it on our plasticine to get the evidence properly of the marks and we did that while John told the other two groups that it was time to cut open their plasticine. But later once we'd finished we cut ours open too with a real sharp knife and we had to be really careful so we didn't ruin any evidence and we checked inside and my piece had glitter in it and it was different colours and so we had to look up in a special book Molly had made and the glitter meant that it was the blood and we looked in the book and at all the colours and we found out that there was poison as well as blood stuff!

And another group checked the cast they made and looked at things like weapons that Lestrade had and they knew which one it was from the shape and another group found out there was water in theirs and it had drowned and another found broken bones in theirs and it wasn't real bone it was breadsticks and theirs had a bruise too and then Lestrade said we'd all done really well and solved the crimes.

And thank you John for helping me write this and yes there were less capital letters and it wasn't as muddled because you helped thank you I hope everyone enjoyed reading my report.

Dirty old river, must you keep rolling

We're trying to find two suspects at the moment. We have issued notices to the public, which means we get a lot of phonecalls which are no help at all. And hopefully one or two which will actually help.

More excitingly, I decided we should all have a day by the seaside, and booked us a hotel and stuff. It's just after Valentine's, and the first day of Mycroft's half term.

The hotel I chose just happens to be attached to a little coffee shop, who have their own roastery locally. Obviously that didn't influence my choice. At all.

Sherlock immediately began looking things up - last time we went he was, in his words, only 'small'. And not quite so quick to Google everything. He has found this:

It's the old electric railway, which ran up on stilts to keep it out of the sea. It was nicknamed 'Daddy Long Legs'. Sadly it doesn't exist any more, which Sherlock is currently protesting wildly about. We've said if the weather is okay we'll go and try to find the tracks in the rock.

The weather hasn't been okay for the past 18 months, so... not much of a promise.


Our sofa arrived, and has been thoroughly tested now - it's good. Comfy, long enough to lie on, big enough for us all to sit on, the cushions have been approved for fort-building.

And now I've got paperwork to do, and a husband who probably needs a mug of tea, and a Sherlock who apparently needs a hot milk and an ice cream...

Also, there's a Tube strike starting tomorrow. Sherlock is very excited, because he is inventing places he needs to go which will require him to go on the back of the bikes. So there's two public service announcements in one - Tube Strike, Excitable Young Boy On FME's Bike.

His existence was distanced from everyone else

One day, John and I will be here - or somewhere similar - and there won't be anyone to supervise while they brush their teeth. No one to tuck in. A little voice won't cheekily appear (long before it's owner) to ask for a glass of water, or to register some other complaint. (No, we can't phone Heathrow and make them stop the aeroplanes).

And if there isn't that, there won't be the moment of stillness after. The slowing of the flat. The gentle tidying up and putting away that currently happens. Because that stillness, that silence, will be here all the time. (almost.)

There won't be us, on the sofa (when we have one), ears pricking up just as much as the dogs' ever do, when there's a sound which might be the thump of small feet swinging out of bed and onto the floor.

The TV volume won't be down low. Our bedroom door may not be closed. I can assure you, I won't be sleeping in shorts!

And it will be a new chapter in our lives - a welcome one. But this current chapter will be done, and I know we'll both look back at it longingly, too.


Days like today, when I'm at home, I get little flash-forwards, to that time. Because from 9-3(roughly speaking), it is the two of us, and the flat does have that stillness. Even worse, when I've been here alone, for whatever reason, when the door closes solidly as John leaves for school with Sherlock. And the silence (such as London's silence is), is heavy around me. I don't like it, when it's like that.

It's the time - the only time, now - when I feel like I don't belong here. Like a visitor in someone else's house. For many reasons, all of them past, not present.

I very much hope, though, that that future-silence which is creeping up on us, is still broken, by Mycroft (door closed carefully, latch checked, coat hung, shoes removed WITH laces undone) and Sherlock (Door pushed, coat thrown, shoes possibly kicked off, laces firmly fastened.)


As you can probably guess, I've been thinking a lot today.

The skipper lay with his nob in gore

So, here we are again. All together :)

I'd intended to cook Mycroft a nice dinner, to celebrate his finishing his exams and being back with us.

But work sort of put the kybosh on that plan. And instead I was eating a semi-warm wrap at ten thousand feet, or however high planes fligh. Or fly. Spelling....

Anyway, he cooked for me/all of us, instead. Which was lovely. Ably abetted by John.

My day really wasn't that bad. The bloke had given himself up - so he wasn't that bothered about being escorted 'home'. Wasn't angry or anything. He...well, he didn't seem that bad, in the grand scheme of things. Averagley homophobic...thought he was God's gift, so immediately found it odd that I didn't fancy him. Slightly amusing, trying to convince everyone he was the officer and I was the prisoner. Sadly he didn't have a warrant card...

Sherlock was very pleased to see me home - I mean, they all were. But Sherlock wanted to ask me a million questions. Including 'If he was bad, you should have just thrown him out of the plane'.

John didn't sleep much the night before - as you've all seen, so he was looking a bit zombie-fied by the time we went to bed. But I was inexplicably awake. Which has meant I've been a zombie today. But that was fine, as we headed out, and it was a lovely day. We went along the river.

Saw a man with an Eagle.

(That is a random man. The man with the eagle wasn't wearing a suit...)

Got a boat way out to North Greenwich, just because we could. Sherlock likes seeing the police boats (Why don't you have a boat?) and, on the way back, we stopped at the Maritime Museum, because we hadn't been there before.

Mycroft liked the incredibly old, incredibly detailed models the best, and the strange star-map...thing, below. Sherlock liked the swords. And blunderbus, and guns which fired 7 bullets at once...

Once we were done, and had sheltered from a thunderstorm by stopping for coffee, we headed home. Where I promptly fell asleep. Which means I'm awake now... the cycle continues.


Mycroft wants to find a job for the summer. John and I are both very much in favour of this, but it's not an easy economic climate to find a first job. Especially when it'll only be for the summer...

He's pondered just going for a shop job - as in supermarket. He's thought about maybe seeing if a computer/IT place might take him on as additional technical help for customers (John and I will lay bets on how long before he goes on a killing spree amongst unfortunate technically illiterate folks...). I suggested being a waiter...or asking if he could help in a coffee shop (providing I get family discount.) Not a chain one, but a little indy nice one. Or a bakery.

Anyway, he's thinking. I'm sure he'll find something.

But If This Ever Changing World In Which We're Living, Makes You Give In And Cry

Worked late. Wanted to get on and interview a suspect we'd found inconveniently late on in the shift.

Came home to find the flat at DefCon1, with some sort of cold war of glaring going on.

Apparently Sherlock climbed on the back of the sofa, the sofa decided that was above and beyond it's call of duty...one large crunch later and Sherlock was on the floor, and the sofa is...well...not exactly sofa-shaped any more.

This is partly because Sherlock is no longer a little waif. He's a strapping young lad. And partly because the sofa is probably older than him.

Up side, we're getting a new sofa... downside, we currently don't have one.

Anyway, Sherlock blamed the sofa, John blamed Sherlock, the sofa remained silent, I blamed...me, probably, and told Sherlock he wouldn't be watching any more programme likes the one last night, if he can't behave the next day. So he decided he blamed me too. And a degu (won't say which one), for 'probably eating some of the sofa and making it weaker'. And Mycroft, for sitting on the sofa...ever.

Now Sherlock is sulkily in bed. And I am attempting to massage the frown creases from John's forehead.


What else... Mycroft is home at the weekend. We may or may not own a sofa by then... more room for everyone, if not? But most of us will have to sit on the floor...

Work is...work. Some good, some bad. I have to go on a firearms refresher, which is...well, inevitable.  Given I've barely had to use my skills, it's not too bad, I suppose. It's come in handy, so can't complain.

Good news is, my ankle survived a run...well...slow jog, the other night. As long as I'm careful, it seems fine. And don't do any silly sudden direction changes or anything.

Oh, and Sherlock's volunteered us to clean the pond up...which is kind of him... and get it ready for all the critters to turn up in the spring.


Right...I'm going to....not sit on the sofa.

I have waited for the rain to come

Quiet, isn't it?

I haven't really been in the mood. For...anything, to be honest.

Had a very sad case to deal with, which is all questions and few answers. Had to talk to the family, who are 7000 miles away. They had questions I didn't have answers to. I had questions they didn't have answers to. And working through a translator makes it all the more difficult to understand each other. Cultural differences, too, add to confusion.

I'm trying to help arrange them to have the bodies sent home, but it's difficult, and expensive. But we've managed it before, via charities and governments and all that.


Anyway, off today. Did some work on the bike with John. He's good - surgeon's hands ;)

Had to have a ride too, obviously, can't lube a cold chain. Comment on that as you will.

Then had to go and see Sherlock, and get out the crayons. It's nice, watching the kids all stuck in to their work. Wish I could go more often.


Here's the planet John and I thought we'd found....which isn't a planet, Mycroft informs us, but an eclipsing binary. Well, we got excited for a bit ;)

Um...soo... anyone got any questions? Things they want to talk about? Or have we all got the January blues?

And it's further to fall down, 'Cause you fly so high

Had a lovely day today.

We got up to clear skies and sunshine, so John and I had a gentle stroll in the park, and Sherlock took his bike. I wanted to jog, but John gave me one of those 'are you actually stupid?' looks, and gave his medical opinion that my ankle wasn't ready for it.

Which it isn't. But I probably wouldn't have accepted that until I'd tried and failed ;)

Anyway, strolling was fine. Sherlock was manic, it was nice.

After lunch we went for a swim, and Sherlock practised his underwater swimming. He can go quite a long way - between five and ten metres, on a good attempt. I'm trying to get back to being able to do a length. Smoking stopped all that, but I can get about 20 metres now (although not right now, breaststroke kick is something my ankle doesn't enjoy much.)

John did a bit of 'serious' swimming, but was then roped in to doing diving with Sherlock :)

Afterward I need coffee and Sherlock needed food. And, apparently, a huge hot chocolate with sprinkles and marshmallows and cream. And then when we got home he needed a chocolate cake...

So, all in all, a lovely day.

Quite a contrast from yesterday, which was ups and downs. Some charges brought, which made me happy. And a crime scene which just... well, very hard to take in. Nothing prepares you for some of them. I mean, not what you see, but thinking about what's led to it. Thinking about what people have gone through, to lead to the moment you're there. What their last moments must have been like. What was going on in their minds. Sometimes it makes you wonder about the world we live in. How someone can feel that there really is nothing else left for them to do...but that. I don't know, makes you sad for them, for society, for futures lost.


And I think I'll be back at work tomorrow...which Sherlock doesn't appreciate. But I will definitely appreciate having some time off with John later in the week.

Have a picture which has been sent around the office. Sums up the job perfectly.

Oh, and I am doing a seminar. On the hidden world of murder etc. amongst the 'invisible population' - people who've been trafficked, who are held in slavery, or who are otherwise not officially known about within our population.

Love, reign o'er me, Rain on me, rain on me

Hello 2014.

Today is the last day of the holidays.

I have paperwork to do, and one meeting to go to tomorrow, because...God, it makes me feel horribly, horribly guilty...but I don't want to go to work. I want to be at home with them. It always feels like the time goes so fast. So yeah, staying at home, mainly.

It's 2 years since I made a resolution to get a better work/life balance... not sure I've done it, but...well, I'm not unmotivated.

The boys have made a few million biscuits, some for us, some for Mycroft to take with him. And Mycroft has begun to sort out his things. Mainly lots and lots of text books for school.

My ankle is getting better - I can get about the flat okay, I just have to be careful.

I'm not generally particularly careful. And when I swear Sherlock's bat ears always hear.

Our calendar informs us that Sherlock will be having his school photos taken this week. He is pondering having his hair cut. I'm not sure he will - I think he should wait until it's warmer! Anyway, don't tell him, but he looks cute when he's glaring out from under his curls. Quite a contrast to Mycroft, who looks very dapper.


What else...well, it's still raining. We're going to start building an ark. Maybe on the allotment, after Reg growled at us for not digging it over yet. Or getting any seeds in the cold frames. And generally being fairweather allotmenteers who have gone into hibernation over winter.

Of course, because it currently looks like the Somme, Sherlock wants to dive headfirst into it and roll about. And so would the dogs. In fact, I might join them, if it's between that or digging it all up...

And now this...