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.