taken over by cats

Sherlock made these while he was resenting not being able to go to the park or to the polls or anywhere else. It's L and I as cats...

  I'm the grumpy one. You may have guessed. You can make your own here. I did one of Sherlock...

I imagine the little spiral is because he's dizzy from seeing how many times he could spin around without falling down, which is one of the ways he  has entertained himself. Fortunately, Mycroft is home now and more less willing to keep him from passing out from sheer ennui. They're planning a trip, belatedly, for Mycroft's birthday. Which may or may not end up happening, depending on time and the scope of the journey in question, but it's looking good right now. Details as the situation develops.    

Mycroft asked me not to make a cat out of him, but he didn't ask anyone else not to. Perhaps an oversight on his part. Just saying.

not too spotty

Sherlock continues tired, not too spotty and intermittently cranky, which is to be expected. He has consumed his entire body weight in homemade ice lollies several times over. I hope L keeps making them all summer. The lemon-basil ones were not a hit with Sherlock, but I love them.

Speaking of basil, it exists in the allotment. Our little non-producing blueberry bush looks happier this year, so perhaps we'll get some actual berries out of it (although Sherlock informs me that most things we call berries are technically droops drupes, but he doesn't know if that includes blueberries or not, and Johnnnnnn stop typing so I can look it upppppp why can't I use your phoneeeeeeee [answer: because of the 38 texts he sent L in a two hour period before I took it away from him]).

We will also have these enormously long Thai red beans:

They stay that color when you cook them, which Sherlock is very pleased about. Most of them that aren't green to start with turn green when you cook them. They also apparently get about as long as your arm, which should be something to see.

I'm going to let Sherlock look up droops now. Talk to you all later.

adventures at the supermarket

Sherlock and I went to the supermarket today after school. We got the usual: tea, bread, eggs, bacon. Probably more chocolate than any one household should contain. We usually do the produce section last because by that time Sherlock has calmed down enough that he won't want to take every single odd fruit home with him.

I was not counting on giant watermelons.   

(No one expects the giant watermelons.)

I suppose they weren't that big, in the scheme of things, but they were certainly big enough to attract Sherlock's attention, along with the attention of every other child in the supermarket. There were a lot. Of children. There always are when we go after school, for obvious reasons. Which is why I try to go during the day, but occasionally I forget what it's like, and today was one of those days. 

 I'm glad, because if I'd gone during the day I would've missed the sight of Sherlock and five other kids of varying ages standing around the stack of watermelons and gazing in awe as if at their new god.

One of the mothers, looking particularly harried (and her child particularly sticky with some kind of purple substance on his face), told me that he would get one slice and that she was going to fill the rest with vodka and throw a party. In Antarctica.

happy almost birthday mycroft

It'll be Mycroft's birthday on Saturday. He'll be 16, if you can believe it. I can't. I know I go through this every time one of the boys has a birthday, as if the passage of another year is some sort of once-in-a-lifetime miracle instead of something that happens, unarguably, on a regular (yearly) basis. I suppose, in some ways, time and our ability to perceive it and the changes it works on us and our lives is fairly amazing when you think about it.  

Pretty sure that doesn't give me an excuse to be astounded every single year though.

Anyhow, Greg and I looked into some birthday related things on his day off. I can't mention them here yet, of course, but I'm pretty sure Mycroft will approve. His mum has something in store for him as well-- something that makes me think she has at least partially reversed her position on security following him everywhere, which might be the best birthday present he'll get as far as he's concerned.

I'll try to limit most of the soppiness to your actual birthday, Mycroft, but you're an amazing young man, and I am terribly proud of you.

In other news, work has been mainly things I don't want to talk about here. There has been a decided lack of rats floating around in hatboxes and too many bad situations that could've been prevented. I'm starting to think that all FMEs should have psychological training and seriously thinking about getting some myself.

paper microscopes

So...that's pretty amazing, right? Sherlock wants one, obviously, despite already having a microscope. He wants one he can carry with him everywhere. I told him I thought other people probably needed them more.

Got an invitation today to a friend's wedding - Spence, I think I've mentioned him here before, thought it was some time ago. I also got a phone call from him.

S: Are you bringing that policeman of yours?

Me: Why?

S: Because I think Jenna's [the bride] mother has a record and she'd probably on the run and he should arrest her on sight. Maybe her father too. And my brother. He might need back up.

Turns out he wanted to elope. I'm not surprised. This is a man who doesn't just dislike his own family but more or less the entire concept of family. I'm a bit shocked he's getting married.   Police intervention may be necessary though. Murray will be there, and there's an open bar.