Just wonder how, how did things ever get this far

Well. Been a while.

Firstly - my husband, John Watson, is amazing. He ran an entire marathon. And he really did run it - he said apart from the shuffle to get to the start line, when there are so many people you can barely move - he ran every step. Well, okay, he stopped for mere seconds to say hello to us and get a hug - but that was our fault. He wouldn't have stopped otherwise.

We managed to see him at a few places around the route, darting about on the tube to get ahead of him. He got slightly more pink and sweaty as he went, but never stopped having a slightly grim smile of determination on his face.

He's run 20 miles in training, and was fine. So now I know there's muscles in your legs which are only used in the final 6 miles of a marathon and to stand up from sitting down. Because the day after the marathon John would contort himself into a variety of awkward yoga poses going from sat position to vertical....a sort of crouch. Then bent at the waist, then slowly upward. I got things thrown at me for laughing - and this was during the day I'd taken off work to tend to his every need! Ungrateful creature.

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.

I've come home. I'm so cold!

Halfway through our last week of having Mycroft 'home' from School. Next time, he's left school and is about to go to work for the summer! After that, Uni...

We are entering an entirely foreign world to me, and mainly foreign to John (And stupid, if you ask Sherlock). Because Oxford University- where, I'm not sure if we've ever mentioned it or not, he is going (barring him sticking pencils up his nose, underpants on his head and sitting under his exam desk and not even writing his name) - demand rather more in the way of tradition than most, so Mycroft has to have all the right clothes and gowns and ties and whatnot ready and visit again to see his digs once he does get in to the college he wants to, and it's all completely baffling but he seems thoroughly happy about it all, and what more could we ever want than that?

He also has to take various sworn oaths and all sorts, and we've even been told we might get to visit! For formal dinners, no less.

I hope everyone understand how hard it is to behave when confronted with John in a posh suit. It'll be my only defence when questioned!


We also talked about some summer holidays - even though the big lad is working for the cyber spies for most of his 'holiday'. And Mycroft is very sure that he wants to go back to the Moors...where all of this started, for me and the boys.... and sort of where most of it started for John, although not the bloggy bit.

So that's where we're going. Hopefully this time without assassins, hell hounds (normal ones, or rehabilitated hell ones, both fine), no being rescued by helicopters (Unless required for entirely different reasons). We are not only going to camp, but we are going to Wild Camp. We will take bivis and bashas, we will rely on John's military expertise (and my expertise at finding places to sleep when in no fit state to find home), take a tiny amount of gear and live off the land (and pubs. And small cosy tea houses). It will be a proper, genuine, adventure. We will bike around, find cosy spots and bed down under the stars. I'm kind of excited already. (Provided the above rules are obeyed.)


Currently, the allotment is growing like a jungle - mainly weeds - Sherlock's pond is full to bursting with newts, the coffee machine at the office has broken, (reminds me, must find way of making good coffee in the wild...), my work laptop keeps freezing (must get Mycroft to look at it) and Anthea hasn't yet killed me (at time of writing this). Must also warn Dartmoor plod of potential for rustling figures to go through the roof this summer. And warn Dartmoor prison of chance of small boy trying to break IN....

Hvala, Croatia!

So...we have returned.

London is far too far from a warm sea.

It was beautiful. I mean, I don't really have words for how beautiful. Stunning. Like nowhere I've ever been.

So, because worlds fail me, have some pics.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.

A day or two ago, I thought I'd take a ride...

We have Mycroft back :) And a flat full of hounds, because having been away for days they must now rush around and sniff and lick everything, just to check it's the same as last time they sniffed and licked it.

There was harbour porpoises in the Thames today - the water police spotted some.

Sherlock wants our Christmas Tree to look like this.

We do need to purchase one. I'm not 100% sure it should happen tomorrow, though, given Saturdays are Hell this time of year. Or maybe I'd rather not leave Mycroft and Mrs Hudson trying to extract a degu from a tree at midnight on Sunday night...

On Sunday, I am removing John from London, and taking him...elsewhere. There will be a bed. And a few other things ;) it should be fun! And a last few moments of peace, before Christmas really hits.


Today we baked (or...created? Given some of it was no-bake-cake). And then headed off to school. John took one of my guitars, nervously, on his back on his bike. I took the other.

Children sang. They did know quite a few songs, most of which I knew well enough to get by, given Mrs T was on the piano too.

John was forced into 'helping' the singers. Making sure kids had the right words in front of them, pointing out where we'd got to if they were lost, and a bit of gentle conducting (Marking where the singing should start and stop, mainly!). It was...well, pretty much as hellish as it sounds. Still, hopefully parents will join in tomorrow, and it'll all be fairly jolly.

John accused me of 'looking at him' when singing lines such as 'don we now our gay apparel', 'The playing of the merry organ'. He's lucky we didn't sing about Miss Fanny Bright in Jingle Bells....

John has volunteered to sell cakes tomorrow. Can't imagine why he doesn't want to run the singing...

Sherlock didn't like it when a little girl took a shine to John and wanted him to hold her hand and sing with her all the time. She got glared at.

I think I have a migraine hangover today. Took more drugs this morning, and am now vaguely stuck between feeling fine and odd waves of feeling rough. I'm worried I've only postponed it. And I don't have time to deal with it!


And here's a fascinating article I read at work.

Didn't hear a gun shot, Smellin' hell or nature

Being all domesticated and doing a spot of sewing. (Sleeve of a shirt that got ripped in a scuffle a few weeks back.)

This has meant that John and I each received the 'gift' of a kumquat which Sherlock had dissected and sewn back together. Yum. Well-handled and post-operating-theatre kumquat is my favourite.

Some of you will read that I had a...conversation with Mum today.

Have since heard back from Rach, and Mum is fine. I mean...well, she's not, but she didn't have another stroke or anything, just the usual. She's...angry about a lot of things. And doesn't yet want our help. Or my help. Not quite sure which. We are too alike sometimes.

Our tomatoes down at the allotment have lots of flowers on them - we spent a fiddly time trying to tie them to stakes the other day.

Lyrically perform armed robbery, Flee with the lottery, Possibly they spotted me

Well, here it is:

The lovely new bike.

It's a lovely ride. Light, big wide bars so it handles like a dream. Nippy, and powerful. Brilliant braking system. All round a lovely bike. I'd prefer it to still have the big round lights, not the odd shaped ones it has - but the rest of the bike makes you forget that pretty fast! It's brilliant.

I'm going to ride it for a week or so, then I'll re-adjust the suspension and things to suit me. Probably get a fly screen. We'll see. I'm happy to get add ons later and tinker with it for a bit to get it perfect.

Sherlock is happy because it matches his kit. I think he thinks it's his bike, and I'm just the chauffeur...

And, on to more of Italy!

As the moon hung proud and bright

John got called out a bit ago. I'm glad, really - it would have been a let down, for his first shift not to have a call out. He wouldn't have slept regardless, I'm sure!

Sherlock was already in bed, and didn't wake up when he went in to say goodbye, but I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't get up sometime soon to check on the situation. We searched his room for alarms, but he could have hidden one somewhere.

So...all new to me, this thing of being the one left behind. I've done some chores, and now my time is my own.

Been thinking a lot about Italy. About how it makes me feel.

Forget about the bad times, oh yeah

I'm on holiday!

Very nice jog into work this morning - did it faster than I thought I would. And a decent jog home, too.

Mycroft's home, and they all came to see me earlier - I'd been out most of the morning for a stabbing, so it was great to get a chance to grab a coffee and see Mycroft. Hard to make the sudden shift from standing over a body to getting ready for a holiday...



But John's done a mountain of washing...and...well, yeah, we're ready to go!!

Sherlock has a new obsession with our flights over there, with the recent drama in the skies over the UK, and is generally interested in airline security. John, Mycroft and I have all begged him not to attempt to 'test' it in any way.

So...yeah. Just got to pack now, as we're off EARLY in the morning. Before the sort of time John would normally drag himself out of bed. :) Need to be out of the flat by half five, really.

Sherlock is packing. John is then unpacking most of that and putting in important things - toothbrushes, pants...

Mrs Hudson has sat her oral and written exams on degu care. Sherlock doesn't think she did well enough, and has left her reams of written instructions. One of the security guys has promised to get them out for a run around when he's here. Mrs H still isn't entirely sure about that, although she'll stroke them when they're out and about.

We're taking some good binoculars, so we can do a bit of stargazing. Sherlock wants to do everything at once. Beach, ice cream, mountains, cities, forts, spiral stairs for horses...everything RIGHT NOW.

I'm looking forward to very late night strolls through deserted streets, showing John where I ran riot as a kid. Trying to stop Sherlock doing the same ;) and I'm sure Mycroft will educate me on all the bits of the city I don't know enough about, and give me a whole new perspective.

Two fools in love, So beautiful and strong

Last night I got called back into work at...well, let's just say John and I were celebrating his newly errr...doubly-employed-status. And the timing could barely have been worse. But sadly I can't ignore the phone on night like that.

So...John waited up for me, which was very very sweet of him. Or desperate ;) but I'm going with sweet...

This morning, I fully expected him to want to crawl right back into bed after we dropped Sherlock off at school. But no, my amazing boyfriend had other ideas... And he took me to the Chelsea Flower Show! It was amazing. Busy, but, just...fantastic. And we stayed all day. Got caught in a torrential hailstorm which had everyone running for cover, but it was sort of romantic, sheltering in the most beautiful surroundings, with John...