27 July 2016

All our times have come

This is my 599th post. I can't believe that a. I've rambled on that much and b. you've all listened. Well, read, I suppose. Anyway...

We all went to Steve's grave today. Took some flowers, did a tiny bit of tidying. There weren't any other flowers there this time, as there have been in the past. I wondered if someone would come along, but they didn't. I kind of hope they do though, and see our offerings and know someone else is thinking about him.

We sat on a bench for a bit, and Sherlock had a lot of questions about post-death rituals. He wants to be a ghost. Slightly hampered by the fact he doesn't believe in ghosts...but as a concept, he wants to believe, and he wants to do some haunting.

He got most excited by being turned into a diamond (Mycroft's suggestion), being shot into space (John's suggestion) and being buried at sea (My suggestion). None of us really knew much about anything apart from being buried at sea, though, so that was his quiz topic of the day. He wants to donate himself to science anyway, but he said once they were done he'd like to be turned into a diamond and then shot into space. Everyone's got to have an ambition, I suppose?

Work has been....work. Good results, bad results.

Sherlock has announced this is how he wants to sleep for our camping trip:

Don't forget where you are and jump out of bed...

I said I thought I'd spend all night needing a wee. John pointed out at least you could just stick your chap out and go.... (I'm also confused as to the ingress and egress...but Sherlock has that in hand..."You'd just carry me and put me in it!" I don't know why I asked...)

Anyway, we have cautiously allowed the possibility of hammocks to enter our plans.

Aaaand now I have to go because Sherlock decided to see what percentage of his body weight of carrots he could fit in his mouth and now there are carrots all over the floor and the dogs are eating them ... never a dull moment.