I suppose everyone wants details? Right.
On the way to school yesterday, we're coming up the road and there's this boy (16-18, bigger than me, let alone Sherlock) throwing stones over a garden wall. We weren't close enough yet to see over the wall, but quite close enough to hear the poor dog when one of them hit home.
I hadn't even got as far as working out what to say to him (hopefully something that would get him to actually stop instead of getting more abusive) when Sherlock ran up to him, flourished Lestrade's warrant card in his face (all right, more at his knees) and said he was under arrest for "being mean to dogs."
Rather funny in retrospect. Not right then. The sort of person who hurts dogs would probably have no problem hurting children, and I was running already but might easily not have got there in time. But he only laughed and grabbed the card, so I had to get it back, and all the time the dog was barking madly until its owner came out - an older gentleman - and started waving his cane around...
It was all a bit of a farce, and rock-thrower got away. The dog (Bella) was fine. The dog owner gave Sherlock an orange and a wind-up toy car for a reward. He's since taken it apart completely. He's probably rebuilding it with a tiny internal combustion engine. That runs on air.
Anyhow. I got Sherlock to school where he could tell everyone about his grand adventure, failed to reach Lestrade, waved down a passing constable in the hope that he could...I don't know, really. I should've just got in a taxi and delivered it myself, but I didn't know if Lestrade was in, and I was supposed to take Mycroft to his tutor's...which never happened. (Sorry again, Mycroft. And to Ms P if you read this.)
The constable wouldn't take the card, wouldn't go and talk to the dog owner, wanted to talk to Sherlock instead about stealing the card. We went back and forth and around and around, and I probably said some things I shouldn't have. I was deathly afraid it would be the last straw as far as the school was concerned and-- Well. Basically there was nothing I could do, short of physically preventing him from going in there, and situations in which there's nothing I can do are my least favorite sort.
You know most of the rest. Lestrade showed up, got his card back, talked to Sherlock's teacher for a bit. Agreed to do some sort of presentation, which he's absurdly nervous about. I don't know why; the kids will love him. (And they are not smarter than you, honestly. They're bright kids, but they're not all like Sherlock.) He dragged off the hapless constable, and by then it was time to take Sherlock home.
At home, we had a talk. I sat him down in a boring corner and had him think about it. I suppose I won't know until next time if it did any good, but at least Mycroft's explanation ("The card only works for policemen") will keep him from trying that specific trick again.
On the way to school yesterday, we're coming up the road and there's this boy (16-18, bigger than me, let alone Sherlock) throwing stones over a garden wall. We weren't close enough yet to see over the wall, but quite close enough to hear the poor dog when one of them hit home.
I hadn't even got as far as working out what to say to him (hopefully something that would get him to actually stop instead of getting more abusive) when Sherlock ran up to him, flourished Lestrade's warrant card in his face (all right, more at his knees) and said he was under arrest for "being mean to dogs."
Rather funny in retrospect. Not right then. The sort of person who hurts dogs would probably have no problem hurting children, and I was running already but might easily not have got there in time. But he only laughed and grabbed the card, so I had to get it back, and all the time the dog was barking madly until its owner came out - an older gentleman - and started waving his cane around...
It was all a bit of a farce, and rock-thrower got away. The dog (Bella) was fine. The dog owner gave Sherlock an orange and a wind-up toy car for a reward. He's since taken it apart completely. He's probably rebuilding it with a tiny internal combustion engine. That runs on air.
Anyhow. I got Sherlock to school where he could tell everyone about his grand adventure, failed to reach Lestrade, waved down a passing constable in the hope that he could...I don't know, really. I should've just got in a taxi and delivered it myself, but I didn't know if Lestrade was in, and I was supposed to take Mycroft to his tutor's...which never happened. (Sorry again, Mycroft. And to Ms P if you read this.)
The constable wouldn't take the card, wouldn't go and talk to the dog owner, wanted to talk to Sherlock instead about stealing the card. We went back and forth and around and around, and I probably said some things I shouldn't have. I was deathly afraid it would be the last straw as far as the school was concerned and-- Well. Basically there was nothing I could do, short of physically preventing him from going in there, and situations in which there's nothing I can do are my least favorite sort.
You know most of the rest. Lestrade showed up, got his card back, talked to Sherlock's teacher for a bit. Agreed to do some sort of presentation, which he's absurdly nervous about. I don't know why; the kids will love him. (And they are not smarter than you, honestly. They're bright kids, but they're not all like Sherlock.) He dragged off the hapless constable, and by then it was time to take Sherlock home.
At home, we had a talk. I sat him down in a boring corner and had him think about it. I suppose I won't know until next time if it did any good, but at least Mycroft's explanation ("The card only works for policemen") will keep him from trying that specific trick again.
29 comments:
It's good to know his heart was in the right place at least. Though it is a bit disconcerting that he had the card on him in the first place.
I suppose the boring corner of the room would be one of the worst punishments in Sherlock's mind. That could well be effective for quite some time if you can get him to stay there.
Going on recent experience they might be smarter than him. (only joking, sir). Hope as a doctor and soldier you can force him to sit down and sort out his hand. He's been moping about all day, popping painkillers like they're going out of fashion and last time I managed to grab him his knuckles were still about twice the size they should be. Men! Tell him there's a fine line between stoic and stupid.
Kholly - he usually means well. Makes it hard to tell when actual punishment is called for.
Sally - I'll look after him, no worries. I'm quite familiar with the perils of stoicism.
I have not been moping.
You haven't been moping since you got here at least. I suppose moping doesn't go well with pancakes.
Pancakes make everything better.
I think Sherlock sounds very sweet. Does he want to be a policeman when he grows up? I can't tell you how surprised we all were when Orio sent us a picture of him in his uniform. We had NO idea he'd decided to join the force. He was such trouble when he was younger! There was probably money on him being the other side of the cell door around here.
Paul thinks he might want to be a policeman, but the ones you see on tv flying the helicopters, not just walking the beat. Carla wants to be a singer. Have you ever seen pictures of Orio in his punk rocker days?
Nicky
xx
You know, I've never heard Sherlock say what he wants to be when he grows up. It's usually "I'll get to do bigger experiments!" (he's very much fascinated with chemistry) or something like that.
How old are Carla and Paul?
I would love to see those pictures.
Gosh, he does sound clever. And what about Mycroft? He certainly seems less work!
Carla is 13, Paul is 11.
I'll have to have a look for some. I'm sure I've got some from when he was in a band - looking all moody! I'm sorry to say some of the best 'looks' he sported were at a stage when he never wanted his picture taken. But I could tell you all about them. (Or the time he tried to get his hair to stand straight up, using glue. I had to cut it all out. Mum went spare when she saw - thought he was becoming a skinhead!!)
Nicky
xx
Oh my God, you're over here too. Go away, leave the internet, get off! Stop talking!
I'm going to bed.
Except I can't, because I need to know what you're saying about me.
I'm fairly sure I can get some sort of court order to disconnect your internet, you know.
Ha! It almost stands up straight all on its own...
Mycroft... I suppose Mycroft is less work. In some ways. I sometimes worry about him more though. With Sherlock, you always know what's going on. There's nothing under the surface. With Mycroft everything's under the surface. Still waters and all that.
I'd love to get the four of them together some time.
There are parts of me that stand up very straight...
(I didn't say that. See, not me.) Anon.
Still not helping your case, Orio.
I'm entirely innocent. That wasn't me.
Orio! You just can't help yourself, can you? You're supposed to be responsible.
And John, his hair was a lot longer then. Well, some of it was. I think it was two mohawks, one down either side of his head, that he was going for. Turned out like just a big matted mess. the sides were already short, so when I had to cut the top off he really did look a bit scary! I wouldn't have wanted to meet him on a dark night. Looked like a right little bruiser.
Nicky
xx
...Still sounds adorable to me, sorry. :) I find it really difficult to picture him looking scary at all. Especially when he's snoring.
Ha, I had hair so long I'd sit on it and I always wanted to do it up in a dual-hawk before I got it cut. The only think that's keep it up though would have been glue but we used Elmer's or craft glue and that washed out fine.
Good on Sherlock for trying to get the kid to stop hurting the dog. People hurting animals makes my blood boil. Not literally. Though, that's an interesting question: at what temperature does human blood boil?
Trista - that sounds amazing. I do wonder what he used. Maybe superglue?
Jessica - Same as water, according to google. I'm not entirely convinced.
Oh I must say that Sherlock's really cute and he was very right to try to stop that jerk! Although... well, me might want to wait until he's taller and legally entitled to do it. :O It's a shame things turned out so messy, but it seems that everything's fine now! :) Make Lestrade watch Arnold Schwarzenegger's "Kindergarden Cop" to get some inspiration for his presentation! ;)
Blood can be accurately described as a colloid or an oil-in-water emulsion. Due to the amount of protein, fat and various salts suspended and dissolved in it, blood is - in reality - only about 82% water, with the remaining 18% comprised mostly of oils and solid proteins.
Due to the nature of colloids and solutions, this raises the boiling point and lowers the freezing point of blood.
Keeping in mind that the numbers vary according to altitude, blood will come to a full boil at around 105 to 108C (around 221 to 227F).
Much like milk, blood breaks down at this point. Clotting accelerates and then breaks down as protein chains denature. Generally, it makes a huge, stinky mess. Kept at a low simmer, it is possible to boil off the majority of the water in blood leaving behind a very nifty sort of protein cake that's handy for biological experiments.
But it still smell wretched. Not for the faint of stomach.
*goes back to eating dinner*
Tinkerty-tonk,
Bronwy
Lupe - I'm not even going to comment.
And Sherlock, NO there will be no boiled blood in the house. Unless we make black pudding (I have no idea how you do make black pudding, but it is pretty tasty with breakfast).
I knew Sherlock would latch onto that boiled blood discussion. XD
a very nifty sort of protein cake that's handy for biological experiments.
...Are any of them appropriate for five year olds?
It makes an excellent base for bacteria culture. A fun one is to set up culture dishes in different places in the house, leave them for a week or so and then slap them under a microscope to do a bacteria count and identification.
Or if you want to do surface tests, you take a clean swab and some distiller water, swab the surface, swab your freshly made culture plate and let incubate for one to two weeks. Repeat microscope part. You'll be amazed at what you find. And where.
Tinkerty-tonk!
Bronwyn
Presumably this is only a good idea if you want to know how many ways you could die just from making a sandwich on your worktop and scare yourself senseless at how ebola virus managed to get into Sherlock's wardrobe or something?
I sort of prefer being ignorant.
Sherlock would enjoy it a lot though. It's all right, we can do when you're at work.
One that's a bit less gruesome is to mix a bit of fabric brightener (like Rit in the US) with a heavy lotion or baby oil and then rub it on your hands. Go about your day and at the end you can get a black light, turn off the room lights and see everything you've handled.
It's wonderful for studying how people move through spaces, how we grasp and handle items (how does a left handed person pick something up versus a right handed person, etc) and just how and where people are likely to leave traces of themselves behind. We touch things far more than we are consciously aware.
Bonus? It's nontoxic with minimal clean up.
Tinkerty-tonk!
Bronwyn
And it'll smell like clean laundry instead of boiled blood! Excellent, I'm sold, thanks!
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