Sherlock's out of school now for the Easter holidays, so I've got him at home all day. Two of Mycroft's tutors are off to Portugal and South Africa so he'll have a lot more free time as well, though I imagine he'll insist on spending a lot of it studying anyway.
I suspect he has some sort of plan to come up with a whole new discovery in his physics tutor's field before she gets back. Either that or he secretly works for some multinational space program. I'm now sure what else would explain the equations on his wall (we did one wall with chalkboard paint so he can write on it).
As you may have seen in the comments, Lestrade's sister Nicky is coming to visit with her two kids, so that'll be nice. I hope. I've had the latest in a long series of talks with Sherlock about not dismissing children (and most adults) out of hand just because they'd rather play outside than study their own blood cells under a microscope.
I thought I was going to post about the talk Lestrade and I had, at least a bit. Apparently I'm not, or not today.
Anyhow.
After lunch, I took both boys and dogs to the park so Sherlock could run off some of the totally unnecessary energy boost he got from sneaking sips of Lestrade's coffee. My leg's been acting up, so I bowed out of the running and sat on a bench. I got chatting with this woman who sat down next to me, and then I heard this massive splash.
I look over and see four identical guilty stares from the edge of the duck pond. They've all fallen in, although in the case of the dogs bounded in joyfully is probably closer to the truth. Mcroft and Sherlock stood up to their knees in water, soaked through and covered in duckweed, and even Sherlock seemed to realize he might be in a bit of trouble.
I laughed so hard. Probably an inappropriate amount, given the look on the face of the woman I'd been talking to. I think she felt I was letting the side down by not shouting at them, but it's only laundry. Mycroft gave me a huge grin (duckweed hanging from his ear) and Sherlock bounced out of the water to give me a hug (so much for that shirt), and we all walked (or squelched) home, via the cheese shop.
Now we've got all the cheese in England (sorry if anyone else wanted cheese tonight, you're out of luck), and we'll have cheesy pasta in a bit, and all is right with the world.
I suspect he has some sort of plan to come up with a whole new discovery in his physics tutor's field before she gets back. Either that or he secretly works for some multinational space program. I'm now sure what else would explain the equations on his wall (we did one wall with chalkboard paint so he can write on it).
As you may have seen in the comments, Lestrade's sister Nicky is coming to visit with her two kids, so that'll be nice. I hope. I've had the latest in a long series of talks with Sherlock about not dismissing children (and most adults) out of hand just because they'd rather play outside than study their own blood cells under a microscope.
I thought I was going to post about the talk Lestrade and I had, at least a bit. Apparently I'm not, or not today.
Anyhow.
After lunch, I took both boys and dogs to the park so Sherlock could run off some of the totally unnecessary energy boost he got from sneaking sips of Lestrade's coffee. My leg's been acting up, so I bowed out of the running and sat on a bench. I got chatting with this woman who sat down next to me, and then I heard this massive splash.
I look over and see four identical guilty stares from the edge of the duck pond. They've all fallen in, although in the case of the dogs bounded in joyfully is probably closer to the truth. Mcroft and Sherlock stood up to their knees in water, soaked through and covered in duckweed, and even Sherlock seemed to realize he might be in a bit of trouble.
I laughed so hard. Probably an inappropriate amount, given the look on the face of the woman I'd been talking to. I think she felt I was letting the side down by not shouting at them, but it's only laundry. Mycroft gave me a huge grin (duckweed hanging from his ear) and Sherlock bounced out of the water to give me a hug (so much for that shirt), and we all walked (or squelched) home, via the cheese shop.
Now we've got all the cheese in England (sorry if anyone else wanted cheese tonight, you're out of luck), and we'll have cheesy pasta in a bit, and all is right with the world.
59 comments:
but it's only laundry
That part makes me very happy, because it's what my mum always says. You're a great nanny, John.
Sherlock and Mycroft are adorable.
They really are.
And Mrs Hudson informs me it's laundry I personally will be doing, but even so, I regret nothing.
I think I should still win the bet - I know it's a pond in London, not the sea at Brighton, but it's still Sherlock and water and dirty laundry. I wish I'd been there to see it.
Anything I can do to help with your leg? Apart from try to insist you take it easy?
Don't worry, I took a picture. I had to send it to their mum too, although Mycroft wasn't happy about that.
I don't need to take it easy, there's nothing actually wrong with it.
I'm irresistibly reminded of the scene in 101 Dalmatians where the dogs dump their masters in a pond. I don't suppose Sherlock and Mycroft have seen it, which is just as well—as authentic Londoners I'm sure you'd all be cringing. But it sounds as though you could relate with the scheming dogs.
Thank god you got a picture.
Okay, so let me take care of you anyway, and you take it easy and I dunno, maybe if I make some attempt to reduce the stress in your life (which I don't seem to manage very often), it'll feel better?
Is now the right time to tell you I don't really like jam? I voted 'other', meaning...Marmite. The only thing that's fit to go on toast.
I voted other for PEACHES! Or PEAR! Or perhaps APRICOT! Woot! Anyway, it sounds like the boys had fun, which is always a plus, and I do agree that it's only duckweed.
Though, as someone prone to falling/stepping/leaping joyfully into muck myself, might I suggest you set the really muddy stuff to soak in a tub with cold water? And if it's deeply stained, a cupful of baking soda?
Then when you wash the whites, use bleach in with the detergent and when you wash the not-whites, a cup of white vinegar. They may need another rinse if the vinegar smell lingers, but it'll get most anything out. *cheesy grin*
Also, if you have all the cheese in England, might I suggest a fondue? So so good and fun to boot! Toast fingers, veggie sticks, sausages and cubed meat (beef or poultry stands up best) and warm, melty, gooey cheese. Mmmmmm. I suggest you stick Sherlock in a backwards dress shirt to protect what clothing he has left. *laughs*
My favorite fondue recipe is:
1 clove garlic, halved
1 (12-ounce) bottle hard apple cider (or beer, not too heavy - wheat beers are awesome)
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon brandy
Pinch kosher salt
5 ounces (2 cups) Gruyere, grated
5 ounces (2 cups) Smoked Gouda, rind removed, grated
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon curry powder
fresh ground black pepper
1. Rub inside of fondue pot or heavy small saucepan with garlic.
2. Pour cider into pot. Add 1 tablespoon of lemon juice, the brandy and salt and bring to a simmer over medium heat.
3. Grate the cheese and toss well with the cornstarch in a large bowl.
4. When the cider just begins to simmer, gradually add the cheese a handful at a time, allowing each addition to melt completely before adding the next.
5. Continue adding cheese and stirring until all cheese is incorporated, about 3 minutes. If mixture starts to bubble, reduce heat to low. 6.
6. It's ready when creamy and easily coats the back of a spoon.
7. Stir in curry powder and pepper. If cheese seems stringy, add some or all of the remaining lemon juice.
Serve over a warmer or in a crock pot. Leftovers can be refrigerated by pouring ice water over the top and sealing it. When you want to eat the rest, pour off the water and then reheat. Yum!
Toodle!
Bronwyn
Elizabeth - Phobos couldn't scheme his way out of a paper bag, but Deimos is definitely one to keep an eye on.
L - You reduce the stress in my life 90% of the time. I just don't like to give in to the pain.
Gah, Marmite. You and Sherlock have fun with that. And brush your teeth before you kiss me.
Bronwyin - the fondue sounds delicious. I wouldn't attempt it myself, but maybe Lestrade can use the leftover cheese for that tomorrow. Because there will be leftover cheese.
Marionberry jam is the best jam ever.
Sherlock has excellent taste.
Even 'there's nothing wrong with it' pain is painful...there's nothing wrong with my shoulder now and it still hurts like buggery (bad analogy...) when the weather does odd things. You don't give in to anything, you 'badass'. Doesn't mean you shouldn't get to lounge on the sofa and get looked after.
Bronwyn - most of the European Cheese Mountain Danger constructed has been demolished in the creation of farfalle ai otto formaggi. With the hounds acting as cheese-hoovers for the escaped gratings/crumbs. Why do dogs love cheese so much? But we'll find a use for the rest.
And Danger, the word verification just said 'whoreglory'. I'm worried.
Anon - not sure I've ever had marionberry anything. What's it like?
L - Whoreglory sounds like a Quentin Tarentino film.
You can clean up the kitchen, how's that?
No, all right, it's very nice of you and you might even have a point. It does bloody ache right now.
Beach Plum jam every time every time I can. But I only ever see it at the little coastal town that my parents retired to.
Bounded joyfully might possibly be true for all 4 of them. And almost anything done joyfully should be encouraged. I might have worried that Mycroft is too serious with his chalkboard wall full of physics equations. But if he can still play joyfully with his dogs (and his brother) then he's just fine.
I'm fairly sure Mycroft didn't plan to go in the water, but he hasn't blamed Sherlock for it either. Solidarity! I may be in trouble.
Is a beach plum like a normal plum?
I can't make any great claims to skill, but I can offer you a massage later. Or try to find other ways to make you forget about the pain.
I shall go and clean up the kitchen now.
Solidarity? You are in trouble. My brother and I were barely civil to each other until I went away to college and we stopped living together. I can't imagine the trouble we'd have gotten into if we'd ever joined forces. And the two of us combined are probably not half as clever as one of yours.
Well, I've never seen the tree, or the fruit, only the jam but they don't taste like regular plums.
My sixteen year old daughter is off from school this week, too. Right now she's off grocery shopping with her dad.
Maybe the dogs dragged them in? In the same situation, I'd be tempted to have them do the wash, or at least help. Everyone should know how to do laundry and cook, something I keep telling my daughter. Especially when she puts a week's worth of dirty clothes in the hampers at once.
The dish sounds scrumptious. All I know is that our cats like Parmagiano Reggiano less than Peccorino Romano. We buy the bricks and grate it ourselves.
You're not doing this out of guilt, right? Because really, you don't have to...I don't know, make it up to me or something. Whatever you might be thinking. The dissolution's quite enough.
Lawless - you make two excellent points, both about the laundry and the draggin. The dogs do outweigh both of them, so it's perfectly possible.
It's essentially a hybrid blackberry that's been crossbred with other blackberries that have been crossbred with raspberries. Mycroft could probably give you a more exact explanation. It's large, super juicy, and its sweetness is more smooth than most blackberries. It produces a very flavorful blackberry-esque jam and rather delicious pies and cobblers.
My horse is very adept at picking them directly off the vine, but less so at eating them neatly and I have more than once found him in his field with purple all over his lips and face.
No, I'm not.
Maybe I am.
I think I have to do it for me, even if you're not bothered. Let me repent?
I downloaded some of the forms today. Called a few people. I'm working on it.
Anon - found him in his field with purple all over his lips and face.
Heh. That is really a charming image.
L - Well, if it'll make you feel better... In that case, you can bring me tea too. And biscuits if there are any left, thanks.
Does this house ever run out of biscuits? I think Mrs H has some sort of stash.
More of the chocolate ones please if you're getting up.
Ponds are excellent fun. :D Were there tadpoles involved? I found tadpoles endlessly fascinating when I was small.
Sounds like Lestrade is having a fit of Catholic guilt (I'm just assuming that the Italian relatives indicates some kind of Catholic background.)
Bourbons, or chocolate digestives? both?
Italian bits of the family are indeed Catholic, Annoyedwabbit, but I'm not. Only time I've ever been to church is when forced to, in Italy. And didn't understand a word of it, then, because it was all in Latin!
I still find tadpoles fascinating, and yes there were, I've got pictures. I'm not sure if they were the cause, but it wouldn't surprise me.
L - both would be ideal, thanks.
I'm not going to make tadpole jokes...even if you have just declared your fascination with them.
Another brew, too? Or just biscuits?
Have you got Catholic guilt? Maybe it seeped in with the Latin somehow. Just biscuits please.
How exactly is it different from any other sort of guilt? Just because Catholics feel guilty about everything, all the time, no matter what? I think my guilt is fairly selective.
I think my mum would've been angry at me for jumping into a pound (or worried sick if I'd fallen). I reckon it could be a bit insanitary... then again, I'm from a third world country. XD The boys adorable, really! :) I hope they get along well with Lestrade's nephews.
I don't know really. More virulent? C of E guilt doesn't have the same ring, does it? I wasn't really raised to be especially religious anyway.
Lupe - oh god I hope so too. I'm a bit nervous about it to be honest.
Lupe - niece and nephew, and I hope so too.
John - it wasn't the Serpentine they were in, was it?
And Mum is very un-religious. So we weren't brought up with anything like that. Although primary school was C of E. I don't think there's a single village primary school which isn't affiliated to a church, is there?
My sister and I used to go exploring the peat bogs when we were wee with our dog. Having two children coming home literally covered head to foot in mud with a formerly white dog in toe probably caused undue strain on my mom (and the washing machine) but was worth it. Besides, our dog was a terrier (a Westie), so he was easy to manhandle under a hose or into a tub to clean off. Laundry there may be, but I can guarantee that the memories are more than worth it (for the boys, and you too it seems!).
As to the jam debate, I had to go with marmalade. I used to buy lime marmalade all the time when I lived in Europe, and have not been able to find that citrusy heaven since moving back to Canada.
Or partridge-berry jam. Which I've never found outside of Newfoundland. Given some of the comments above in a similar vein, I think we need to make some sort of jam revolution whereby amazing jams are found everywhere all the time....
Mycroft? Can you get on that? ;)
I will also admit a deep adoration for raspberry-chipotle or hatch chile pepper preserves. So amazing. My dad candies jalapenos pretty regularly too, and I chop them up in cream cheese and eat it on sandwiches. It's so so good. And no one steals my lunch more than once. I'm more than willing to share jam recipes if y'all are.
Toodle!
Bronwyn
L - it was only a duck pond! Quite a small one at that. Mum took us to church sporadically, but I think none of it actually lodged in my brain very well.
X - that sounds amazingly fun.
Lestrade- I think the "all guilt all the time" is the basic idea behind the concept. ;)
As for jam, I have to go with grape! My eternal favorite, there's just nothing else I love as much.
My father-in-law makes great plum jam. I'm also partial to boysenberry jam, and ginger marmalade.
Might Sherlock enjoy bringing a few tadpoles home (or to school)? Or some pond water to look at under the microscope?
I voted other. I adore blackberry jam. Sadly, the only person I know who agrees that it's delicious is my mother.
John -- It was extremely fun. I was Sherlock's age at the time, and 20 years later, I still remember losing my rubber boots in the deep mud and my big sister diving in to save them. Not to mention the look on my mom's face when we came home (we had to wash off with the hose; no way was she letting us set foot in the house!).
In sum: "it's only laundry" is the perfect philosophy to have when one has small children.
"it's only laundry" is the perfect philosophy to have when one has small children.
perfect philosophy for every scenario - y'know, where is is only laundry.
I shall remember it next time Danger has any complaints about bedsheets...
John, I think I'll go back to mine tonight. Unless you need me to cook or something?
Yeah, okay. Need to clean up for Nicky's visit?
Yeah, do some washing, you know, that sort of thing.
Whoa. Everything turned green!
Nifty!
Toodle,
Bronwyn
I must say, I like that color of green, but it's a bit hard on the eyes when trying to read the text in front. :)
Huh. Do you not see the text on a white background that floats over the green?
I do! I just still find the green rather jarring. Distracting, maybe, even though it's not directly interfering with the text?
Ohh, all right. I'm glad it's displaying properly, but I'll see if I can tone it down a bit.
Is it something you found growing in Sherlocks room?
You free tomorrow, if I book a test ride? What's the best time?
Oh, it's very green here now.
L -At your disposal all day.
A ride on a motorcycle with a sexy guy and then watching Mycroft skate. You guys are going to have a better Thursday than I am.
I've sorted it for afternoon. Might need to work in the morning. Might never leave tonight, the way the day's shaping up.
My eyes (and brain) thank you, John. *G*
Raspberry, definitely. Or blackberry, marionberry and sometimes blueberry. Actually, pretty much every berry but straw. I don't know why, but I've always had an aversion to anything but fresh strawberries.
Marionberries have vicious, vicious thorns (I know I'm a bit late to the comments). Thin and sharp and they break off the vine and stick in your skin.
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