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.