14 December 2015

Sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away.

Well, I wasn't going to write this tonight but then I saw the comments on John's blog...and realised what the next three days holds for me...and decided I'd be in no fit state to try and write one of these any time soon.

So...life is...well, the usual. The job remains difficult. The processes remain slow and frustrating. But there we go. No one said it was gonna be easy.

But we have Mycroft back with us, which is wonderful, and the flat is packed to the rafters with creatures great and small. I feel like I should get myself a critter - Sherlock has the goos, John has Maf (Or, actually, Maf has John), Mycroft has the hounds, Anthea has all of us.... I feel left out!

So, have a Christmas tradition - the choosing of the baubles!

I'll leave you to guess which one belongs to each of us. (This is a lie - they all clearly belong to Queen Maftet)