As phase one of Operation Sleep in the Night Time Like a Normal Person, we went to the park today after Sherlock got out of school. (I'm still getting rumblings about the kiwi tennis incident, but no further action has been taken.) We got a snack at Louis Patisserie* (yes, by "snack" I mean cakes, but they're really good cakes, all right?) and then walked to Hampstead Heath to let both the dogs and the boys run around for a bit.
The Dogs of War are not used to being off lead, and they mostly ran in circles around their lord and master (that would be Mycroft) while jumping six feet into the air to bite at invisible butterflies. I think they need to get out more often. We may have to make this an every day thing (the park, not the cakes) (but they're really good).
I'd asked Lestrade if he wanted to meet us, and he did catch up with us at the park, sporting a black eye and a smug expression. He's caught that man who's been killing people with lead poisoning; I'm sure you've read about it in the paper. Dreadful business. Fortunate, then, that I saved him a cake, despite him semi standing us up. He certainly deserved it.
He also brought a frisbee. I don't know, my friends. When you solve a murder case, is your first impulse to go out and buy a frisbee? Should I be concerned about this sort of behavior? I think the answer is no, because actually we all had a brilliant time, including the Dogs of War. I've never seen them worn out before. By the end, they were lying on the ground like two oversized, panting rugs and trying to lick the rain off the grass. (Note to self: bring a water bowl for them next time.)
The boys were nearly as tired. I would've carried Sherlock back, but the idea was to wear him out, and the damp was making my shoulder complain. It'd been drizzling on and off, and we got a cab just as it started to rain with some sincerity. A nice day, all in all. I might tell you more about the lead poisoner tomorrow, but now Mrs Hudson is calling us for dinner.
* In case you're wondering what we did with the Dogs of War while we were consuming delicious cakes, they waited outside. With Mycroft inside there was no danger of them running off, and anyone who tried to steal them would experience brief, intense regret, followed by the hope that the hospital could reattach whatever they'd just lost.
The Dogs of War are not used to being off lead, and they mostly ran in circles around their lord and master (that would be Mycroft) while jumping six feet into the air to bite at invisible butterflies. I think they need to get out more often. We may have to make this an every day thing (the park, not the cakes) (but they're really good).
I'd asked Lestrade if he wanted to meet us, and he did catch up with us at the park, sporting a black eye and a smug expression. He's caught that man who's been killing people with lead poisoning; I'm sure you've read about it in the paper. Dreadful business. Fortunate, then, that I saved him a cake, despite him semi standing us up. He certainly deserved it.
He also brought a frisbee. I don't know, my friends. When you solve a murder case, is your first impulse to go out and buy a frisbee? Should I be concerned about this sort of behavior? I think the answer is no, because actually we all had a brilliant time, including the Dogs of War. I've never seen them worn out before. By the end, they were lying on the ground like two oversized, panting rugs and trying to lick the rain off the grass. (Note to self: bring a water bowl for them next time.)
The boys were nearly as tired. I would've carried Sherlock back, but the idea was to wear him out, and the damp was making my shoulder complain. It'd been drizzling on and off, and we got a cab just as it started to rain with some sincerity. A nice day, all in all. I might tell you more about the lead poisoner tomorrow, but now Mrs Hudson is calling us for dinner.
* In case you're wondering what we did with the Dogs of War while we were consuming delicious cakes, they waited outside. With Mycroft inside there was no danger of them running off, and anyone who tried to steal them would experience brief, intense regret, followed by the hope that the hospital could reattach whatever they'd just lost.
6 comments:
I'm not convinced the Hungarians aren't actually gods of cake.
I second this! But maybe rivaled by the French? I guess I'm not a very good judge though because I have a soft spot for pastries and don't really care who it's my by =p
You know, I don't think I have enough empirical evidence to make a sound judgment re: the superiority of Hungarian vs. French cakes. More testing is in order, clearly.
I always thought the French were the gods of cake. I never suspected the Hungarians could rival the French. Clearly, I need to get out more.
If you're having trouble sleeping John, I would recommend trying this warm milk recipe. My grandmother and mom used to make it for me when I [strike]refused[/strike]couldn't sleep.
Milk
Vanilla Extract
a bit of sugar (Honey works too)
Optional: Nutmeg
It works wonders when I can't get to sleep. Plus, it warms you up if you been in the cold for too long.
I agree. Scientific testing. Loads of cakes, I mean, tests. Yes. Before Louis Patisserie I wouldn't have thought the Hungarians were such genius cake makers, so perhaps other countries should be included as well.
Book Geek - I like your name and I am going to try that recipe right now.
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