return of greg the florist

A few minutes later they each had a steaming mug of tea and fresh bread thickly slathered in butter and jam. They watched the sun dip behind the trees in a blaze of golden-red glory.

Behind them the castle loomed, windows dark. An owl screeched in the nearby woodlands.

Greg shivered.

"It's too bad we don't have a ghost," John. "It'd be good for business." 

Greg shot him a quick glance, but he appeared to be perfectly serious. "Quite glad we don't, I think," he said. 

"No old legends? Women in white? Women in black? Why's it always women in white or black? It's never little boys in red. Or grandfathers in blue."

"Drama," Greg suggested. 

"Suppose so." 

The sun left a lingering line of fire along the tree tops and then vanished entirely. The light went from warm to cool blue, and John edged closer as the temperature dropped. They stood there until the blue washed away and ink black spread out over the hills and sky. The stars bloomed, a handful at a time, until they covered everything. There was no moon. 

"Inside," John said, finally. "Come on. It's too...big out here." 

Greg thought he knew what he meant. Both sky and possibilities seemed infinite, more than his mind could comfortably contain, and the future was as penetrable as the dark bulk of the night forest. 

He took John's hand and led him inside for more tea, and toast, and bed. 

*

In the morning, he lay in bed for all of five minutes when he woke, and then he picked up the phone and called an electrician. That was where the trouble really began.

---

On a non-florist-related note, I've bought racquet-shaped pasta again for Wimbledon. 

no bike

I got a call this morning - no bike today. There's been a delay of some sort, maybe something to do with the flooding, I'm not sure. Next week they said. I'm not sulking, honestly.

Sherlock did reasonably well today at school. He was still grumpy about going, but there were no incidents, involving cheese or any other airborne food, so I think that's good enough to be going on with. The new teacher seems inclined to forgive and forget. I suppose it's not the worst thing she's ever had thrown at her, given the age and temperament of the kids she's working with.

She came out with Sherlock and I and a few of the other kids and parents when we went to visit the pond before she left...

Sherlock: *searching for newts* LOOK AT THEIR FEET!

Mrs N (for new, but also conveniently her real initial): Have they got feet already?

Sherlock: *tells her more about the stages of newt development than she could've possibly wanted to know and nearly drags her into the water with him*

She looked more pleased than not at his near-supernatural levels of enthusiasm for newts. So, there's that.

I'm watching Federer play Benneteau. It's not looking good. Like with Nadal and Rosol yesterday, Benneteau is just out-playing him. He's moving a bit better now though, and Benneteau looks knackered, so maybe he's got a chance. Someone has a sign that says: Federer - the once and future king. Let's hope. Oh, and Boris Becker is a arse.

And an article I expect to be good because theirs always are, though I haven't read it yet: Wimbledon, ‘Bare-leg’ Tennis, and the Bitter Rivalry Between Helen Wills and Helen Jacobs

just thought you'd like to know

Just got back from picking Sherlock up from school. Went to check on L and his migraine...found him in bed, asleep, clutching one of his files from work like a teddy bear. A very sweet image, but I thought I should take it away from him and get him under the covers properly.

Now Sherlock and I are making courgette loaf and trying to be quiet about it. Not easy, since cooking is usually a sort of extreme sport for Sherlock, but we're trying. 

who throws cheese?

Sherlock, that's who. (And, apparently, the USAF...)

Apparently the older children at his school get two shorter playtimes instead of one longer one, so they're not outside at the same time as the little ones. Thwarted in his daily 12:00pm pond visit, he removed the cheese from his sandwich and threw it at his new teacher. Thankfully, cheese is not aerodynamic, and it hit her leg, not her face.

He missed the second playtime entirely through a combination of sulks and time outs and flung himself at me, sobbing and insisting he would never ever go back to school again. Ever. EVER, did I hear him? NEVER EVER IN A MILLION TRILLION YEARS. He hasn't had a meltdown quite this spectacular in a while. He's definitely going to sleep early tonight.

In other news, the sink is leaking...more. Because I tried to tighten a bit of it that looked tightenable and made it worse.

And at work, we got 50 cases of latex gloves delivered. We were meant to get five. They wouldn't take the other 45 away with them, and there are now 45 cases of latex gloves shoved into every free area of the surgery, of which there aren't many. Oh, and someone's child spat on me.

I am also going to sleep early tonight. 

the stars are not wanted

So. Red's funeral. It was...good. If that's possible. I saw a lot of people I hadn't seen for a long time. Some of them not since Afghanistan, some of them longer than that. Years. None of them since I got back, though a lot of them have been home longer than I have.

His mum sang Bonny Portmore. She used to sing professionally, and she still has a lovely voice. She told me afterwards that she used to sing it to him when he was little.

Wore my dress uniform for, I think, the first time since the last funeral I went to. That's probably 90% of the reason I don't like it.

L was wonderful. Held my hand through a lot of it. Stealthily. I think he wasn't sure whether I'd want to tell people about us. I probably should've reassured him beforehand, but I just didn't think about it. I wasn't much use that week generally.

Sorry. I'll do a post about the visit with my parents soon and then I'll stop being so bloody depressing for a while, promise. I know this isn't what you signed up to read. 

one confession

L - seems only fair to tell you, since you told me yours. Number seven. 

Day Ten: One confession.

I keep trying not to write this, because I don't think it's appropriate for a blog, or...for anywhere really. But I think can't think of anything else. Not because there aren't other things to think of, but because this one seems to have driven all of them out of my mind. So. 

I've killed three people. Even in retrospect I can't think of a way I could've acted differently without the people I was supposed to be protecting getting badly injured or killed. I suppose I'm lucky in that regard. They were fairly clear-cut situations. 

I don't really feel guilty. I don't really feel anything. Sometimes I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. Mostly when I think about it I feel sort of...empty. I don't know. A lack of any recognisable emotion. I worry about that fairly often. About what it says about me. 

I know this is hardly a unique experience in war. But I've managed to accept most of the things I've seen and done, and I still don't know what to do with this. I don't know if I ever will. 

two images

Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.

Acquiring food: I don't understand how it takes up so much time, but it does. Even with L doing most of the cooking, I sometimes feel like I live at the supermarket. 

Taking care of small things: not birds specifically, but Sherlock and I found this one and put it back in its nest. 

Bonus turtle: I keep seeing them now and I can't recall having seen...really any in London before. But that was before Sherlock and his endless enthusiasm for all creatures great and small. I think this is the same one that I posted a picture of before - at least it was near the same pond. 

Day Ten: One confession.

three turn-ons

On the assumption that the game will stay popular for a while, I've put the answers post into the bar of links at the top of my blog so people can find it easily.

Day Eight: Three turn-ons.

If L can do it, so can I , I suppose... I think this was the worst one. Easier to think of but much harder to post. 

 

1. Competence. In particular at driving and fixing things around the house, but just in general as well.

2. A bit of dirty talk can be nice. 

3. Smoking. Look, I know, all right? I've dissected those lungs. Believe me, I know. Logic doesn't help. And it's only with certain people anyway.



Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.

four turn-offs

Day Seven: Four turn-offs.

1. Dishonesty. Game playing. Manipulation. All that sort of thing.

2. Cruelty. 

3. Really small hands on men. Sometimes on women too. I don't know why. 

4. Excessive back hair.

Day Eight: Three turn-ons.
Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.


On another note, related to 1 and 2, I hope everyone's read L's post by now.

When I started this blog, I was easily the most unhappy and alone I've ever been in my life. Watching this change from just me talking into the ether, into a place where all of you can come and talk and share your lives hasn't just made me happy; it's changed my view of humanity, maybe given me back some small amount of faith in people. Thank you for that.

Edited to add the clues from Ryo's game, which I haven't even started on because my brain still hurts from the last one:

Live but not die

Devil but not angel
Era but not period
eve not adam
draw not color
pan and pot but not stove
Ron but not Mike
Wed but not marry
Rat but not mouse
Reward but not present
ten but not eleven
bad but not good
loot not treasure
lever not pulley

deified not god-like
Ewe not us.
Saw not hammer
was but not will

five people

Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)

Well...leaving aside the completely obvious... 

1.  Harry

2. Murray

3. Mrs Holmes

4. Mrs Hudson 

5. Laura

But that still leaves an awful lot of people out. This should've been the ten things one.

Day Seven: Four turn-offs.
Day Eight: Three turn-ons.
Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.

We are home. I've started the laundry. I'm exhausted. 

Here's a list of the clues for Lancs. Anon's game:

It's a game of cap and hat but not bonnet
It's a game of route but not root
It's a game of rut but not puddle
It's a game of iron and tin but not gold
It's a game of den but not nest
It's a game of dream but not vision
It's a game of lit but not lite (unless you're American, in which case it is a game of lite)
It's a game of kin but not kind
It's a game of plus but not minus
It's a game of butter but not bread
It's a game of grin and smile but not cry
It's a game of clot but not clod
It's a game of ton and tun but not barrel
It's a game of not and no but not yes
It's a game of boo but not ghost
It's a game of boo and not shoe
It's a game of boo and not page
It's a game of hi but not greetings
It's a game of to and fro but not hither or thither
It's a game of tan but not color
It's a game of join but not meet
It's a game of roo not kanga
It's a game of hone but not sharpen
It's a game of pen but not nib
It's a game of rabbi but not vicar
It's a game of war not peace
It's a game of cow not donkey

six things

Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.

I'm not sure I'm going to be able to do this one. Certainly I've done things that were stupid, or things that made my life more difficult. Or that made other people's lives more difficult. But as I've said before, if I say 'I wish this hadn't happened, or I hadn't done this'...I can't know what else I'd be changing. Maybe I read A Sound of Thunder too many times when I was younger. 

So...six situations I wish I could've handled differently, maybe. 

1. In retrospect, covering all the cadavers with shaving foam was not the best idea. It was a lot of fun (and a lot of foam) but since our class ended up cleaning them off the next day during the time we were meant to spend revising...at the very least, we could've timed it better. 

2. I had a new nurse who vomited on a patient during an evacuation flight. It was, obviously, not a good situation. However, he probably didn't deserve everything I said to him afterward. 

3. I wish I hadn't ignored my physical therapist's instructions for a year and a half. 

4. I slightly regret packing as much as I did today to carry up the mountain. Ow. 

5. I wish I had handled the end of my last relationship before Lestrade better. She broke it off, but I could've been less of a bastard about it. 

6. A friend of mine once asked me to do a hike with him from Lake Baikal to Vladivostok. I still think he was mad, but I sort of wish I'd tried it. (I just tried to look it up on google maps to see how far it was, but apparently google has no information on that part of the world. It's a very long way though.)

Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)
Day Seven: Four turn-offs.
Day Eight: Three turn-ons.
Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.

And now we're back at the B&B. I told my parents Sherlock needed time to calm down before bed, which is true, but I think it would be equally true tonight to say that I need time to calm down before bed. 

seven things

Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.

I think this is going to end up being seven things that have crossed my mind a lot in the past week, whether I intend it to be or not. 

1. How I could be doing a better job with the boys. 

2. Murray, who's due home fairly soon. I don't know if he plans to go back. 

3. How I could've been a better son.

4.  Or just...how to be better generally, I suppose. Feel like I keep screwing up recently. 

5. Red, his mum, how kind she's been to me in the past. 

6. That BMW. 

7. How lucky and grateful I am to have Lestrade in my life. 

Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.
Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)
Day Seven: Four turn-offs.
Day Eight: Three turn-ons.
Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.

eight ways

Day Three: Eight ways to win your heart

1. Pick up your socks and turn them right side out.

2. Apparently it helps a lot if your name is Gregory Martin Finchley Lestrade. 

3. Be kind to people who need it, even when it makes your own life harder. 

4. Be more patient with me than I deserve. 

5. Homemade custard creams. 

6. Tell me how you feel, even when I can't manage to do the same until months later. 

7. Let me look after you when you're ill. (Eventually.)

8. Tell me when I'm being an idiot.

 

Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.
Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)
Day Seven: Four turn-offs.
Day Eight: Three turn-ons.
Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.

nine things

Right...only took me about three hours to do this...

Day Two: Nine things about yourself.

1. Europe, Asia, and Africa. What? I'm sure that's all you wanted to know about it.

2. Somewhere there is BBC documentary footage of me showering at Bastion. I assume they thought the showers would be empty, but I think they could've turned off the camera a little faster. I'm quite grateful it was never used.

3. In medical school, a friend and I once covered every single cadaver with shaving foam.

4. When I see the poppies for Remembrance Day now, all I can think of is the poppy fields in Afghanistan.

5. I thought I'd die over there. I wasn't hoping to, or especially afraid of it. It just seemed likely, if I kept going back, and I knew I'd keep going back.

6. When I was young, four or five, Harry used to lock me in the basement because I was scared of the dark. She went off and forgot about me once, and Mum thought I was in my room. I was down there for about six hours.

7. I climbed about three quarters of Mt Kilimanjaro and then had to go back with another climber who was suffering from altitude sickness - high altitude pulmonary oedema, pretty bad. He was all right in the end though. He gave me the cigar he was going to smoke at the summit. I think I still have it somewhere.

8. There are so many things I don't feel I can tell anyone, because it's not fair to put those images in their heads. Bad enough they're in mine.

9. I saw a UFO once. I mean, literally a flying object that I couldn't identify. Not saying it was aliens. Just that it was odd.

Day Three: Eight ways to win your heart.
Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.
Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)
Day Seven: Four turn-offs.
Day Eight: Three turn-ons.
Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.

ten days

Stumbled across this on some blog and was annoyed by it, so now I pass the annoyance on to you. I do not at all promise to do all ten days.


Day One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people right now.

1. I hope you're not as lonely as I think you are. I wish there was something I could do. Something you'd let me do. 

2. If you get yourself killed over there I'm going to wear Hulk hands to your funeral. I mean it. So just don't. 

3. You're a great person. People should be nicer to you. It really pisses me off when they're not. 

4. You too. 

5. I can't believe I'll never seen you again. 

6. I wish I knew what the hell you wanted from me. 

7. I think I was sort of an arse to you quite often when we first met. Not on purpose and I haven't realised it till lately, but I'm sorry.

8. You still manage to irritate the hell out of me a lot of the time, but I'm proud of you for what you're doing.

9. There's nothing wrong with you. I wish you knew that.

10. You have taught me so much.

Day Two: Nine things about yourself.
Day Three: Eight ways to win your heart.
Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.
Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)
Day Seven: Four turn-offs.
Day Eight: Three turn-ons.
Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.

hot air

Remember when Sherlock was so keen to tie himself to a bunch of balloons and become airborne? Mythbusters proved it would take more balloons than any reasonable person would want to inflate just to float a toddler, but I saw this today...

Half that desk is supported by balloons. Ones that, according to the article, "were genuinely air-tight and would never degrade, and Caltech were called upon to supply a Heluim/Hydrogen hybrid gas with an atomic weight 150 times lighter than Helium alone." 

Not that we could get any, but that is pretty amazing.

saturday report

turtle

Today I:

-got lept upon by Sherlock
-managed to kiss L's ear goodbye because I wasn't awake enough to aim correctly
-went and collected Mycroft from school, along with the dogs, Mycroft's things, which have multiplied while he's been away, I'm sure of it, and Anthea.
-nearly got vomited upon by Anthea, who barely even protested at being sat down on the sofa with tea and fell asleep thirty seconds later
-discovered that secret agents make worse patients than doctors, soldiers, or coppers
-had a very nice lunch with L and the boys
-spent an astonishingly long time at the florist while we each picked out precisely one third of L's flowers
-saw a turtle (see above)
-came home
-got growled at for trying to take Anthea's temperature
-called in reinforcements (i.e. Mrs Hudson)
-made salad nicoise for dinner with the boys to make up for all the cheese
-gave L his flowers
-managed to aim correctly this time

I'm hoping for more sleep tonight than I've been getting. Been thinking about Red a lot, and his mum.  The funeral's Wednesday.