Alone on a platform, the wind and the rain On a sad and lonely face

Ahhhh, the heatwave is currently not waving. But the Tube is on strike as of now, so everyone is still hot and annoyed anyway.

Yesterday was quite moving, really. Ten years since 4 bombs were set off on the London transport systems. Three on the underground, one on a bus.

At the time the first bombs went off the stations/place the bus blew up stopped and had a minute's silence. The nation held a minute's silence at 11.30.

It does feel like yesterday, really. Or last week, maybe. We heard, at first, there had been a massive electrical fault and the underground was suspended. Then we began to hear the rumours, around the yard, that it had been a bomb - and not just one, but a few, at least. As it became clear that there had definitely been fatalities, from those first responders, we geared up to go, because it doesn't matter if you've been stabbed or killed in a bomb attack - murder is murder. And I remember being on the way out, and my phone ringing. And I almost ignored it, just to get going, but something made me stop, and run back to answer it. And it was telling us to wait, not because they were worried there were more bombs - they were, everyone was, there was no need to say it. But because they were worried they had been dirty bombs.

So then we sat, and waited, and watched the news and tried to get on with out work until we finally were sent in.

Right now we're trying to catch a man who is wanted because he stabbed another man in the back because he thought that man was a police officer (he was a barman)...so we really want to meet him.


Anyway, onto far happier things - here's a picture of Mycroft's bike!!

Just because you don't believe that I wanna dance

So...I'm home. Early. And with more of the NHS's supplies attached to my head.

We went to arrest someone who was known to be violent (I mean, to be fair, we mainly arrest people who've tried to kill someone...so it's not like any of them are going to welcome us with baked goods and a cuppa.) Anyway, we went with lots of help. Four of us, four uniform officers, all for one man.

But he didn't disappoint. Went absolutely postal, shaking us off like rag dolls.

He tried to run into the back garden, but, amazingly, we'd thought of that...so I burst out of the back door to find four officers clinging to him like ants on an elephant... and joined in, naturally. And ended up making close friends with a very badly made greenhouse.

So, by the time the CS gas and tasers were flying, I was mainly out of it, really.

We ended with one arrest, one fractured wrist (uniform), one frankenstein's-monster-ish head (me), one black eye and fat nose (Sal), plenty of bruises and scrapes and lots of streaming eyes from the CS...

Anyway, paramedics and even more officers showed up, took us all off to our various destinations...John showed up, because Sal called him - we weren't that far from home, so he arrived while the paramedics were busy mummifying my head. Followed us to the hospital, then followed the panda which dropped me home. Staples in the scalp mean putting on a bike helmet isn't happening for a while.

And eventually, after a lot of staples in A&E I was sent off home with him to care for me. Got to pretend I was a doctor though, in a fetching set of scrubs, as my suit is a. ruined and b. forensic evidence.

Mrs H fetched Sherlock, who has announced that staples are 'better than stitches'. I'm not 100% sure on how the hierarchy of medical fastenings runs...probably...sticky tape, glue, stitches, staples? He hasn't seen mine, as they are currently under a ridiculous sticky dressing which I'm sure nurses only put on my head for a laugh. But John thoughtfully took pictures at the hospital, so he was somewhat mollified.

He also showed me this - which is rather cool.

Anyway, John's now having great fun looking after me....honest...perfect patient, me. I'm apparently playing a game of 'the floor is lava' that I didn't sign up to, because every time I try to get off the sofa he's there, stopping me. Although, thus far, he hasn't catheterised me...so I must stop writing this and go and wee out some of the 20 cups of tea he's made me drink so far ;) Later on I might even let him pick some scabs out of my hair..

Go shave a sheep and knit yourself a sweater

Apologies for the poor quality of this blog. I'm too tired to write much.

So far...we've been rubbish at the training schedule, because I worked too late.

Bryan was in court today. I asked someone who works there to let me know the outcome. Fine and suspended sentence. Not sure how I feel about it. I don't know if prison would do him some good, or put him in touch with some 'real' criminals. Nor do I know why i care.

The weekend was so completely amazing - John worked it all out, with just a tiny bit of help from Mrs H somehow getting us into a corporate box! It was amazing. And we won! And the weather was gorgeous - and Anthea even delivered Mycroft to us, so he didn't miss out! He's home this weekend, so I definitely wasn't expecting to see him - well, I wasn't expecting any of it. It was just brilliant, everything, even my sneaky sergeant fixing the rotas at work.

So...some of you have expressed the need of more pictures of my gorgeous husband.

But clearly if you actually find him irresistible then... you wouldn't be able to resist him. Which would end badly for me.

Therefore I'm only actually using this picture for his (my) own good, right? And he doesn't have any food hanging out of his face! Sorry for the bizarre colour/quality. I messed with my phone setting and don't know how to un-mess.

It's not so hard to do, And it'll carry you through

Well. Feels like a lot has happened this week.

In completely the wrong order - Mycroft got wonderful reports from all his teachers. They're almost as proud of him as we are, it would seem. I know he'll be very modest, but he is just an all-round wonderful young man. I hope he'll manage to find quite a lot of time to relax this half term - I know he's got work to do, but we're definitely going to try and all get out places together, too.

Anyway, we'll be back to fetch him for the holiday tomorrow. I guess they put this evening right by when a lot of travelling parents will be down to pick up their boys anyway.


So that's all good. And although Mycroft said he didn't do as well as he wanted in his mocks...I'm sure it won't surprise any of you to know he did extremely well. He just holds himself to incredibly high standards.


And.... well, yes, Bryan. I don't know if it's a long story, or I've just over thought it, or what... Basically, he got the custody sergeant to call me when he was arrested. And... I still don't know what he thought. But he was obviously worried. I just went to the stock phrases. First offence, nothing I could do anyway. I didn't know what to do, I mean...who would have expected that? So then he got angry, said I was ruining him, because he was about to make it big in America, and this would ...mess that up. So I just said the only person who'd messed up was him, and told the custody sarge not to call me again. (The calls are done on speakerphone, so the sarge's can hear both sides of the conversation.)


And...well, I was worried, I'll be honest. I thought he could do something vindictive once he was out.


Then today he called my office. Told me I had to help him. Tried some of the old tricks that used to work - the blackmail, the threats, picking at my insecurities. Except that so many of those insecurities he used to rely on don't exist any more - not like they used to, anyway.

So then I just got angry. And I thought, you know, actually, he's bloody called me, so he can listen to me for once - for as long as it took him to realise he could hang up, anyway. And that actually took quite a long time. Shock, I guess. So I told him a few home truths that have been stewing away inside me. Which I won't go into, because... well, because I don't want to be like that. But yeah, it felt good, knowing that he knew what I thought of him, and he knew I wasn't afraid to say it. And he knew I was proud and happy with my family, and what they thought of him.

So, apart from scaring some of my officers with the ferocity, volume and amount of swearing going on, it was a good thing to happen, really.


I very much doubt he'll go to prison or anything, but he'll at least be given something to think about.

But If This Ever Changing World In Which We're Living, Makes You Give In And Cry

Worked late. Wanted to get on and interview a suspect we'd found inconveniently late on in the shift.

Came home to find the flat at DefCon1, with some sort of cold war of glaring going on.

Apparently Sherlock climbed on the back of the sofa, the sofa decided that was above and beyond it's call of duty...one large crunch later and Sherlock was on the floor, and the sofa is...well...not exactly sofa-shaped any more.

This is partly because Sherlock is no longer a little waif. He's a strapping young lad. And partly because the sofa is probably older than him.

Up side, we're getting a new sofa... downside, we currently don't have one.

Anyway, Sherlock blamed the sofa, John blamed Sherlock, the sofa remained silent, I blamed...me, probably, and told Sherlock he wouldn't be watching any more programme likes the one last night, if he can't behave the next day. So he decided he blamed me too. And a degu (won't say which one), for 'probably eating some of the sofa and making it weaker'. And Mycroft, for sitting on the sofa...ever.

Now Sherlock is sulkily in bed. And I am attempting to massage the frown creases from John's forehead.


What else... Mycroft is home at the weekend. We may or may not own a sofa by then... more room for everyone, if not? But most of us will have to sit on the floor...

Work is...work. Some good, some bad. I have to go on a firearms refresher, which is...well, inevitable.  Given I've barely had to use my skills, it's not too bad, I suppose. It's come in handy, so can't complain.

Good news is, my ankle survived a run...well...slow jog, the other night. As long as I'm careful, it seems fine. And don't do any silly sudden direction changes or anything.

Oh, and Sherlock's volunteered us to clean the pond up...which is kind of him... and get it ready for all the critters to turn up in the spring.


Right...I'm going to....not sit on the sofa.

You can't stand where I stand, you can't walk where I walk

This is going around the Yard. Most of them find it hilarious - but a few of us remember joining up when it was exactly like this!

I remember it very clearly, joining up, living out at Hendon, the studying, the exams...the whole interview thing. And finally getting through it all. The parade. And then realising how 15 weeks isn't enough training for anyone.




Still, here I am, many years later. Still doing the job. Of course, I didn't even dream of working at the Yard then. None of us did. We were happy just to get a posting, didn't care where.

Sherlock wants to be allowed to take something police-related into some sort of special show-and-tell type thing at school. He wanted a taser. Obviously that's not going to happen. So now he wants a baton.

I'm standing, Numb and frozen, Among the things I love so dearly

After all the excitement of last night - and this evening - I nearly forgot to post.

Last night we got to the hotel late. The address was 'Pity Me'...it wasn't wrong.

Sherlock was unimpressed by the place. No fun things at all.

He'd been really good - mainly - on the journey up, even though it was a long time to sit on a train for. He was asleep when we got to the hotel, but woke up enough to get his pyjamas on, protest about brushing his teeth, and get into bed.

I'm not sure exactly what time it was - not that long after I'd gone to bed, so probably around 2 ish - he climbed into bed with me instead, because his bed 'smelt funny'.

At that point I really didn't care what happened as long as we were both asleep.

And it burns,burns,burns

I shall probably fall asleep after posting this. Apologies for lack of replies to any comments.

Last night, got called out to a scene. Older bloke beaten to death. The body had been there a little while - probably around a week.

We did all the usual things, got the body sent away, made enquiries with the neighbours who were up and being nosy helpful. Started looking through lots of paperwork in the flat, but there really was a limit to what we could do at that time on a Sunday, so eventually I came home - later than I wanted, but I had to set a few things in motion.

Of course, Sherlock not being here meant there was no pointy-elbowed alarm clock, so I slept in until almost six-thirty - which is the absolute limit of when I can fall out of bed, get clothes on, and get out the door and still be on time for work.

Then we hit all the lines of enquiry hard. And it eventually paid off. Got an excellent lead.

We found our suspect at his workplace.

He tried to do a runner...we were prepared for that, and had some uniform with us to cover the back entrances.

I'd just grabbed the guy, and he was struggling, when one of the PC decided to get enthusiastic with the CS Spray.

You will look for me and I'll be gone and I'll be gone.

Today was one of those days.

It's not often I seriously think about what I'd do if I wasn't a police officer. Today I did...and didn't come up with much.

The job... I don't know. Didn't have the best start to the day, with a witness deciding they hadn't seen anything, in court. Got back to the yard to get my DCI on my back about doing the Crisis Negotiation stuff, because the Super's been on his. Told him flat out I didn't want to, which then led to him moaning about every single case my team have got on right now.

You've just got to wonder if it's worth it. Not enough staff, not enough time, too few resources, even things like forensics being squeezed to death. And at the end of it all...

Yeah, well, it's not like there's anything else I can do, so...no point thinking about it, really.

Got home to find Sherlock had bought me a cactus to cheer me up - it's very nice. And very kind of him. Now in pride of place next to Mr Cactus, on the windowsill.

Step beside the piece of the circumstance

Right, now peace has (sort of) descended, after Sherlock stealing one of my books for his own intellectual gain.... I shall attempt to write this entry and think about my presentation.

So...sorry, I can't even remember who asked about first responders (by which I don't mean medical first responders - I mean the first officers on the scene of a homicide/attempted.)

John is now laughing because he's reading chapter titles form my book.

Bet he wishes I'd brought home the snappily titled: "Template Protocol for the management of detainees who are suspected of swallowing or having packed drugs or foreign objects into body orifices or cavities"

Anyway...

yes, whoever it was, the very first priority is to establish if the 'body' is really dead. It becomes incredibly embarrassing for all concerned if they are discovered to be alive after an officer's been reeling out crime scene tape for half an hour and drinking tea given to them by locals and not rendering first aid.

So you always get a contaminated scene, basically. What the officers need to know is how to preserve it as best as possible. So, for instance, establishing a single entry/exit and walkway. Sketching/photographing the scene before moving things. Noting where the things were moved to. Starting the Crime Scene Log. ensuring no one enters the scene without protective clothing.

If the victim is still alive, then someone travelling to hospital with them, in case they can identify their attacker, or note a dying declaration (which can be used in court.) Preserving their clothes, getting a pre-transfusion blood sample preserved for evidence. If they die on the way to hospital/in hospital, making sure all the medical equipment used is left in place and not removed.

Obviously, there's lots to talk about, hence them wanting me to run a presentation!

But ask away, if you have specific questions.

I'm going to put Sherlock to bed...

Oh, and just to add - please sign this petition. The law they are trying to pass is completely horrific. If John and I were to live in Nigeria when this bill was passed we could be sentenced to death, just for being us. Jailed for ten years, just for living together, or holding hands, or wishing to be married. Please help people not as lucky as we are.  www.allout.org/nigeria-veto 

Soothe my mind and set me free

Well... I thought today would be calm, we didn't have a lot planned.

I had a word with Sherlock this morning, before John was up, about today being Armistice Day. He's already done a bit at school, and they'd got poppies - and drawn pictures of them - and even looked at a little bit of war poetry. So he was already ahead of the game, really. So then I said about the eleventh hour, and he agreed he'd be quiet.

He took that very seriously, as it turned out, and turned on the radio so we could 'hear the silence', and shushed us all in plenty of time so we wouldn't miss it. And he stayed still and quiet the whole time, which I was very impressed about, because two minutes is a long time.

I didn't know if John would want to do anything...be alone, or go to the cenotaph, but we just stayed in. So I gave him a hug for the two minutes.

It took us a while to realise he'd also unplugged the phone - and the internet - to ensure we had silence. Security came up to ask if everything was all right and check we weren't all hostages!

Anyway, then Sherlock disgraced himself a bit later by having made himself a sheet of ice to form a dagger with and try and stab me - me being the available test subject. Nothing personal...

I thought he'd hurt himself at first, but he'd just got a really cold hand, creeping up on me, and then when his ice dagger didn't actually stab me, but slid through his hand, I think it hurt. Anyway, he's banned from the internet now, and got a good telling off. He's a bit sulky.


So, anyway, as Sherlock is temporarily off the blogs I thought we might try another

Lestrade's Upstanding Column Of Love...

So, ask away. Anon posting is welcome, as usual. Have at it, commenters of the world....

*Please note, all replies may be utter bollocks.

It's so hard to be yourself when you feel like something's wrong

We're all together again :)





(It was the closest to glitter that the internet would provide)

Sherlock went to bed horribly late, but he doesn't have school tomorrow, so we didn't think it would do him any harm. And if it subdues him at all, then even better...

Obviously can't tell you where we're going for his Birthday, but you'll find out soon enough. It's just lovely having Mycroft home again, and spending time together.

Especially in light of what's going on.

I don't get it. None of us do. Unless the entire point of sending pictures of us...or me, this time, is just to make us uncomfortable. In which case well done, it's working.

When I spoke to John after Sherlock had opened the envelope I...I dunno. I almost knew, after he'd asked me if I'd sent anything. Don't have to be a genius to get from that to why he'd suddenly want to talk to me.

I wasn't expecting it to be pictures of me though. Us, maybe. Not just me.

I suppose I was just the easy one to find.

Been a bit difficult sleeping again recently. And now...yeah, probably worse. I mean, I have complete faith in the security team, and John, to keep everyone safe - not that there is any direct threat anyway. It's just...the thought of being watched. Waiting for the next thing to happen, constantly feeling like you've got to be on your guard. Honestly, it's like the last couple of years of my marriage. That feeling that you just can't relax. Always wondering if you're doing the right thing.

I thought I was past all that.

Find, I want your name, On my tattoo

Unbelievable news from Manchester today. Senseless. Incomprehensible.

My thoughts are with their families, friends and colleagues.

"Step forward now, Officer, you've borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven's Streets. You've done your time in Hell."


In more cheerful news, Sherlock set some sort of glitter-paper trap for me to walk into. So I got home to be utterly doused in glitter and confetti. It's everywhere. And I mean everywhere.


And now, onto a message I promised for AnonyBob, for being the 24000th commenter on this blog. Which, no, doesn't contain nearly enough about my job and far too much about 'boring stuff', Sherlock says.

Fences, we put up our defences.

Well. This will be a slow enty and probably not very long because typing with one hand is slow.

John pretty much said what happened. heading to ~Richmond, bloke swerved and cut us up and headed off. I don't know if it was planned or what. could have just been bad riding, really. No idea.

Anyway, I don't know what i did I think I sort of rtied to reach and grab John, but just ended up landing on my hand on the kerb and  bending my fingers up or something. And John's now massaging my bruises with ice cubes


My bike's in the garage, getting fixed and checked. I've got my spare helmet...and actually need to ask John if his is all right (I'd suggest not, actually.) I know I cracked mine on the same kerb.

we werent going very fast, but even not fast is fast enough when you hit the road.

Last night was nice. Mrs N seems like she'll cope with Sherlock, and he's warmed to her a bit.

And it's about a year since I moved in with John and the boys. So we should celebrate and have a date...when I don't need John to cut up my food for me... and after he's let me buy him a new suit..

Nice shirt, Danger? To go with a lovely suit?

Hello Darkness My Old Friend

I made that tomato thing the other night. It was nice. Probably nicer cold, actually, the next day.

Work's...busy, I suppose. As predicted, my mind isn't exactly on it as much as it should be.

Had to go and visit the mortuary this morning. Molly gave me a hug, said I looked like I needed it and that she'd read what happened.

It's sort of...don't know, feels like it's not really happening, in some ways.

Oh yeah, all day and night-time yours

Nights tonight. Not 100% sure how I'm feeling about it, really. I'm sure it'll be okay.

The other night, I was following a guy through a real rabbit warren of an estate, trying to keep tabs on him without being too obvious about it.

There were other people around, but not loads. It's not that sort of area.

I'd clocked a few bunches of young guys hanging around - late teens, twenties, I suppose. Not unusual.

Oh I know your face, I've seen it a thousand times

First, good news.

The murder/manslaughter rate in England and Wales is at an almost-thirty-year low. Mainly due to a fall in rates of domestic violence. I can't tell you how happy that makes me. I'd be very content to be out of a job if that were ever the reason.

Second - people keep asking me about Olympic traffic lanes and how they work - I know as little as the rest of you. I think the entire idea will cause total havoc.

In a country full of pessimists...

Woke up horribly early this morning. Stumbled about. Stubbed toe. Decided not to wake John, given swearing and hopping hadn't. Decided it probably wasn't serious. Burnt self on kettle. Swore more. Left house.

Got to work, changed into uniform, did swift briefing (had already been sent major briefing day before) headed out.

Crept around in hedges, waited for signal, smashed in door. Swept house, arrested those inside, began search.

Was volunteered to go into basement, pretended to be brave, found lots of interesting things (not just in basement).

Knocked off, picked up battery-powered kids' motorbike, drove to flat.

Was 'assisted out of uniform' by John, very swiftly. ...shenanigans ensued.

Apologised on John's behalf to Mrs Hudson. Endured outrageous innuendo. Was persuaded to drop John at Sherlock's school, as he had made himself very late.

Managed to persuade Sherlock not to set off sirens. Allowed him to turn lights on and off.

Went back to the yard.

Dropped off BMW, changed into bike gear.

Got back to flat, endured sulking from Sherlock re bike riding.

Made dinner, ate dinner, ate lovely cheesecake, started trying to draw a moose on large pieces of cardboard.

Got laughed at by John. Sulked. Refused to draw any more moose.

Still waiting for him to apologise.

How was your day?

(he hasn't kissed my toe better yet, either. Although he did manage to kiss quite a lot of the rest of me, earlier, whilst scandalising elderly neighbours.)

This is us, this is love

I'm so tired tonight. I've been on the sofa all evening barely moving and when I got up just then to put Sherlock to bed it felt like I was made of lead.

As usual, the Met's been busy stretching the thin blue line a bit thinner. To the extent I was meant to be in a briefing for CTC and a meeting with the CPS at the same time today, and had to listen to the Super sorting out a fight over me on the phone.

If you can't...

Blog readers of the world.

I honestly never thought I'd have to say this, but here it goes.

Please all act respectfully towards one another. These blogs are supposed to be fun. Treat others as you would wish to be treated.

We're never going to take away the option to post anonymously. Lots of people in the past have participated in otherwise very difficult discussions which they otherwise wouldnt have, because the Anon function gave them the chance to talk about things.

Please don't abuse it.

I don't think John or I ever expected these blogs to grow into quite such a 'community'. As with any group of people, I certainly don't expect everyone to get along. But if something or someone irritates you, please try to rise above it and ignore, instead of sniping or baiting or being rude.

This post does not require anyone to comment on it. It doesn't need debate, discussion or validation. It just needs everyone to take a moment to think about their actions.