We'll have Mycroft and Anthea and the slobber twins (that's unfair, they don't actually slobber that much) home this Saturday for a good long while. We're thinking of going up to walk along some of Hadrian's Wall, although perhaps with more B&Bs than camping. Sherlock says it's not that cold, and he's right, it's not that cold, but he's young and has bones made of rubber (medical fact, trust me, I'm a doctor) that won't set up immovably from sleeping in the cold on the ground. Also he doesn't care about the availability of beer and warm food, whereas L and I care a great deal.
So there's that. L's head is much better, thanks everyone for your concern. I did my best to keep him in one place for five minutes and get him to rest a bit. Or, as he puts it, chained him to the sofa and weighed him down with a cat. She does get amazingly heavy when she doesn't want you to move, but the dogs would've been more effective. Next time...
Mycroft sent us a photo the other day of Anthea dressed all in black with the hounds on either side of her in an early morning mist. It's no wonder she makes all the boys there a bit nervous. It's probably good for them (and I feel fairly certain she enjoys it). I'm trying to save her some of L's dragon biscuits, but it's hard going. By which I mean I really want to eat them. He could probably make more, right?
Things have been mostly quiet, but at work a few days ago I did end up treating bite wounds in someone's house who had a massive salt water fish tank and an octopus named Dog who supposedly once ate a severed finger. I never got the full story, but I can only assume that the people who live in that house lead far more exciting lives than we do - I knew there had to be someone out there who did. And you see, Sherlock? This is why (among so many other reasons) we can't have an enormous aquarium the size of a small room. I don't want an octopus eating my severed finger.
So there's that. L's head is much better, thanks everyone for your concern. I did my best to keep him in one place for five minutes and get him to rest a bit. Or, as he puts it, chained him to the sofa and weighed him down with a cat. She does get amazingly heavy when she doesn't want you to move, but the dogs would've been more effective. Next time...
Mycroft sent us a photo the other day of Anthea dressed all in black with the hounds on either side of her in an early morning mist. It's no wonder she makes all the boys there a bit nervous. It's probably good for them (and I feel fairly certain she enjoys it). I'm trying to save her some of L's dragon biscuits, but it's hard going. By which I mean I really want to eat them. He could probably make more, right?
Things have been mostly quiet, but at work a few days ago I did end up treating bite wounds in someone's house who had a massive salt water fish tank and an octopus named Dog who supposedly once ate a severed finger. I never got the full story, but I can only assume that the people who live in that house lead far more exciting lives than we do - I knew there had to be someone out there who did. And you see, Sherlock? This is why (among so many other reasons) we can't have an enormous aquarium the size of a small room. I don't want an octopus eating my severed finger.
