day off

Yesterday the boys went off with their mum, and Greg and I took a bike ride. We saw floods...

And more floods...

And cows. Not pictured. Mainly they're not pictured because I (completely understandably!) mistook some mooing for my phone vibrating, and L was laughing too hard to take any photos. And I was too busy trying to look stern and then watching him actually have to sit down and wheeze slightly to take any. I still maintain it wasn't that funny. 

I've had seven texts from him today. 

1. moo

2. bananas? [this was in response to mine about did he want anything from the shops]

3. moooooo

4. moooooooooo

5. you love me really

6. what do ghost cows sound like?

7. moooOOOOooOOOOOoooo

I do love him really, and it's a good thing... 

Here are some pictures Mycroft took last night and this morning at his mum's. The first one is the fire Sherlock lit mainly by himself with help from Mycroft (according to Sherlock's report, that is):

And the second is from a walk they took. Lovely, isn't it? Looks like a painting.

And now we're all back together once more, and we've had pizza, and the Christmas tree is lit up. Sherlock and Mycroft are fiddling with Sherlock's microscope, and L and I are semi-conscious on the sofa with dogs drooling on our feet. 

merry christmas everyone

Murray send me the above picture last night when he was working. Now he's passed out on Mycroft's bed, hopefully to awake soon, and then maybe he and I will have a better chance against the boys at cards then I'm having on my own. It's a good thing we're not playing for money.

And here is the terribly impressive yule log cake:

Not quite as alcoholic as the background suggests. Probably. 

And I think I hear Murray stirring, which means that I might be able to leave the boys with him and Mrs. Hudson and sneak off to visit L for a bit... I fully expect Mycroft to have won all his worldly possessions by the time I get back. He's honestly a little terrifying, and Sherlock's learning fast. 

Merry Christmas, everyone, and I hope you're having a good day whether you celebrate it or not. 

adopt a skull

I'm at an unpleasantly damp crime scene. Someone's just shown me this link where you can adopt a skull. They all have info about them written right on them and you can pick which one you want from a catalogue. My first thought was a Christmas present for Sherlock, but, well, it's a lot of money, and we've already got him...a few things. Possibly more than we should. But if you're shopping for anyone who would like a skull, this is your lucky day.

Contrary to L's advice, I have now been vomited on, punched (only a bit, I'm fine), and felt up, but I think I get to go home soon. At least unless I get another call before that happens. It's been an intense night so far. Very glad I got to go home and get the medal Sherlock made for me though. Several people asked me if I know I've got glitter on my shirt. Obviously the answer was yes (medal is at home for safe keeping).

it distresses us to return work which is not perfect

“Many years ago I sent an old, beloved jacket to a cleaner, the Sycamore Cleaners. It was a leather jacket covered in Guinness and blood and marmalade, one of those jobs … and it came back with a little note pinned to it, and on the note it said, ‘It distresses us to return work which is not perfect.’ So that will do for me. That can go on my tombstone.”

--Peter O’Toole

Apart from being a wonderful quote and a rather wonderful thing to potentially have on one's tombstone, his description of the jacket reminds me very much of L's. Blood and Guinness and marmalade... He'd probably blame me for the marmalade. 

Well. That was a very full weekend. Seems like it's been about a week since Friday. Sherlock's play was...sort of a cross between Noah's ark, minus Noah...and minus the ark...with something about the environment and climate change thrown in? I think. There was definitely a flood, at any rate. And at the end when the crops were growing properly again and not flooded out or dried up, all the carrots got up and danced around. As they do. It was great. 

Nicky and her family came to visit, and Mycroft and Carla got to go off by themselves for a while, so I assume Mycroft is currently winning the battle he's waging with his mum. Either that or she's told the security people to especially sneaky, but I think Mycroft would spot them. He's had a lot of practice. The dogs went with them. I'm not sure how much good they'd actually be if something happened, but they're certainly intimidating. 

He and Carla each got one tree decoration while they were out, and now Sherlock is mad for all of us to go out and get ours as well. We're behind on his Christmas schedule, apparently....

something from outer space

Found an article online today with the most amazing pictures, of which the photo above is one. Want to guess what it is? Looks a bit like something from outer space, I thought.

Anyway, once you've considered, you can check out the article and see how close you got.

Mycroft and I went to the Tate Modern today and saw this, among other things. There's also an exhibit coming in April that looks interesting...like it's made out of fluorescent tubes or something. I probably should've read about it, but I didn't, so that's the best I can do.

We picked up Sherlock from school, and he fluctuated between grump and excited and grumpily excited...with a side order of excitedly grumpy. His play is tomorrow, and L has just put the finishing touches on his thundercloud costume. He's also working tomorrow. Sherlock spent a large part of the evening trying to get L to promise to be there, with L explaining over and over that it might not be possible. A contract signed in blood was mentioned, and I had to intervene.

Mycroft is menu planning for Nicky and Co.'s impending visit...I think wasabi mashed potatoes sound amazing. L and Sherlock are less convinced. 

here

Well, we're here! We've been here a little while, actually, but we were a bit busy for blog updates. This is where we're staying: 

It's a beautiful place. There was champagne in the room when we got there, and there's also this:

And it's really just...lovely and quiet and peaceful. It's so nice to spend time alone with my husband and not have to worry about homework or bedtimes or who ate all of whose chocolates without telling who or what the dogs might or might not have eaten (they can't possibly have eaten an entire scarf, can they? It was five feet long...). And just have time to talk and lie about and leave dinner until the last minute because there's only us to organise.

In other news, I've been asked to start doing two shifts a week at work after the new year. I'm not sure it's fair to Mrs Hudson, or to Sherlock. It's not so bad when they're at night, or on L's days off...but then I don't get to see him on his days off, and I know he hates it when I work nights. Just not sure it's worth it, but I'm still thinking about it. 

wormsign the likes of which...

The wreath is complete. It has tinsel and glitter and various baubles and bits of old computer circuits on it. He's also made Murray one wrapped with bandages with some fake blood on and a drawing of a skull stapled to it. Murray is delighted and wants to hang it up at work...I feel this may end poorly for him. 

L sent me this: Australia has  nine foot long earthworms. I mean, of course it's Australia. Where else would it be? Picture behind the page break thing in case anyone is horrified by enormous worms. Lots more at the link.