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....

so far

L is working again tonight. Sherlock is overflowing with the desire to join him. I told him to wait in his room and I'd make him an obstacle course, which I have done and will probably regret. And if I don't, Mrs Hudson will when he comes charging through here like a herd of oversized squirrels. I might go down and apologise preemptively before I tell him it's ready. 

I have work tomorrow night, which will hopefully give L enough time to recover and nap after work before I have to leave him with our small ball of energy. I have some diseased lung pictures in reserve for them to look at together. (Sentences I never thought I'd write, No. 847.) Still, hopefully, everyone will be in bed by the time I get a call - it does usually seem to work that way. 

Here, have a poem. I just read this for the first time the other day and really liked it.

A Small Number

Olena Kalytiak Davis

So far, have managed, Not
Much. So far, a few fractures, a few factions, a Few
Friends. So far, a husband, a husbandry, Nothing
Too complex, so far, followed the Simple
Instructions. Read them twice. So far, memorized three Moments,
Buried a couple deaths, those turning faces. So far, two or Three
Sonnets. So far, some berrigan and Some
Keats. So far, a scanty list. So far, a dark wood. So far, Anti-
Thesis and then, maybe, a little thesis. So far, a small Number
Of emily’s letters. So far, tim not dead. So far, Matt
Not dead. So far, jim. So far, Love
And love, not so far. Not so love. So far, no-Hope.
So far, all face. So far, scrapped and scraped, but Not
With grace. So far, not Very.

canal ride

We took a bike ride today (bicycles, not motorbikes). We went to the canal, which was a pretty long ride for Sherlock, maybe the longest he's done. You can tell he's getting bigger and stronger though. He wasn't nearly as exhausted as we had feared/hoped. It was a beautiful day and a beautiful place:

We bought sandwiches and things and eat in the grass by the water. It was strange not to have Mycroft and the dogs with us. I missed him a lot today. He would've had a good time. And, obviously, the dogs would've loved it. They also probably would have jumped in the water and then shaken it off all over us, which I didn't mind missing.

Also, Sherlock would like to remind you, me, L, Mycroft, Mrs Hudson, and the world at large that his birthday is coming up. 

tomorrow

Well. We're getting married tomorrow.

The dogs are washed. Our suits are set out. Family is trickling into town. Murray probably has the rings. It's all beginning to seem almost real...

L's going out tonight with Sherlock. I'm going out with Nicky. Mycroft and Carla have some undisclosed plans. It will be a busy night. Just as well. Maybe it'll keep me from being too nervous/excited/unable to think of anything else. I hope I'm not too boring tonight, Nicky. ;) 

heat, drugs, and flowers

We have ice in the shape of small flowers. Why? Well, remember when Sherlock and I went to Ikea and bought him a Sherlock-sized chair for his reading corner? They also had ice trays in the shape of various things. Sherlock would've preferred skulls or bones or bats, but was fascinated enough with the idea of ice in shapes that he settled for flowers (and another one, not pictured, that makes ice in long tubes). 

Work was mainly people who had taken too many drugs, had too much to drink, or been out in the heat for too long. Or all three at once. Took a blood sample as well, from a man who insisted it would clear him. I hope it will, and that he didn't do it - he seemed like a nice bloke, and what they were holding him for wasn't nice at all.

I think I got home a little before midnight. L had tea waiting for me. :) He had also removed the tie from his new shorts and was modeling them with a pink ribbon tied into a large bow in its place. Mycroft was looking tolerant and amused. I had one of those moments where I'm almost shocked by how lucky I am to live the life I do. 

i've met the met...

An understatment if I've ever heard one! L got me this at the park today. They were there handing them out, mostly to kids, but I like it. I've put it with the stickers Sherlock got us at Pride. 

We went swimming today. L and I demonstrated dives at Sherlock's request, multiple times, while he observed our form and technique...wait, I think I mean critiqued our form and technique. He did almost nothing but diving today himself - he's like that, goes flat out at what he wants to learn until he gets it. No diversions. He probably would've stayed until the pool closed if we'd let him. 

Mycroft spent most of the time reading or people watching. I was just sitting next to him, trying to get a decent amount of sunblock on my ears, and out of the blued he pointed out a young man across the pool and asked me if I thought it was odd that someone who wanted to join the Royal Navy was unable to swim. Took him a while to explain that one to me.

Anyway, good day. Especially after yesterday. L got home around two in the morning. I didn't wait up intentionally, but I was awake anyway and we talked for a while... I don't know. I'm glad the police there know the situation now, at least. Also glad that Danny didn't break the skin when he bit him. 

late nights and early mornings

I just got Sherlock back to bed after a nightmare. He said things with teeth were chasing me and Lestrade and he couldn't warn us, which is...a pretty terrible dream. We got up for a little while and had tea (me) and warm milk with honey (him) and talked on the sofa. I tried to convince both of us that the world isn't really a terrible place even though it seems that way sometimes.

He called Mycroft's school stupid roughly thirty seven times and said he'd never go there, he'd go to 'the other one'. I wonder how Eton feels about being the other one. He even said he missed Mycroft, which he'll hardly ever admit.

It was a big change, straight from motorbikes and guests and Mycroft and the dogs and Anthea all being there to a very quiet flat and school. I need to manage that transition better for him next time somehow.

I have a headache and an interview tomorrow, so I suppose I have to try to sleep again. I hope all of you are all right and so is everyone you love. 

it's a...thing

What is it? Strange underwater creature, artificial eyeball? You can guess if you want to and I'll put an explanatory link up tomorrow - someone remind me if I don't.

We were planning to pick up Carla and Paul after Longleat yesterday for ease of taking them to the off road place today, which didn't happen, because Paul had a thing (not sure what) that he had to do today. He and Carla came on the train today, and we will do the off road place tomorrow.

Today was a restful day of planting things in the allotment and getting dirty and cleaning up and then going to meet Paul and Carla's train...after which Carla and Paul and Mycroft and Sherlock were set loose upon London together. On their own. And by 'on their own' I mean with security trailing them, thank goodness.

And I spent part of the afternoon thinking about parents who don't have a security team following their children around (most of them) and wish they did (again, I'm going to guess most of them). It's an odd thing, and I know Mycroft's tired of it already, even if he's far more accepting of it than most boys his age would be. Me, for example. I had no sense whatsoever at fourteen and would've escaped every chance I got. And Sherlock, for now, doesn't care, because he wouldn't care if the entire city of London paraded after him everywhere he went as long as they didn't get in his way and perhaps bought him ice cream every now and then, which the security team has been known to do. But we can't expect that to last forever.

I don't think I had a point there; it's just something I think about every now and then, because it's a strange situation and one I often feel grateful for, but I'm aware that possibly I shouldn't feel grateful for it? Because they need to ordinary kids and learn to navigate the world on their own, but then again...I worry. I can't help it.

Well. That was...a lot of words I didn't expect to write today. Anyhow, they're fine, and they're almost back now, and we're going to be making pizza. We'll have to invade Mrs Hudson's flat to bake it because our oven is still broken, so I'd better go and warn her. 

hungry like the wolf

I've been ordered upstairs to bed while L prepares something for tomorrow morning, so I'll just take this opportunity to say briefly how wonderful he is and how much I love him. And how...constantly amazed I am at my good fortune.

And I'll also post this, just in case Sherlock needs something else to occupy himself with in the morning, or more to the point, in case Mycroft and Anthea need help occupying him. The youtube channel belongs to someone who works at a natural history museum in Montana and this is the first in a series of videos in which they acquire a wolf that was hit by a car and prepare it for...display, presumably, but I haven't watched that far yet.

All this one has is a dead wolf, but the subsequent episodes are more graphic, so proceed with caution. Eventually, I believe, there will be flesh-eating beetles involved. You're welcome, Sherlock.

fulgurite

L sent me this picture of fulgurite, which looks amazingly like a dragon about to eat someone. It's made when lightning strikes sand and fuses parts of it together. 

Quite a lot happened yesterday. Today. Depending on how you look at it. Mycroft's parents' evening went pretty well. All of his teachers had nice things to say about him. I tried to pay attention and ask useful questions, although how useful anything I had to say would really be is debatable. I mean, it's different at Sherlock's school, but I don't really think Harrow takes anything any of the parents say all too seriously. 

L claimed to be nervous, but looked suave and cool, if slightly damp from the ride. He made it extremely difficult to focus on what everyone was saying. Mrs H looked like she was trying not to scare anyone, which I must say is not her usual look and does not come naturally to her. She's very charming when she wants to be though. 

Afterward, we got to take Mycroft home...into the sugar-fueled disaster zone of hurricanes Sherlock and Harry. They made a batch of cupcakes with edible glitter. Mrs Hudson got two. Mycroft got one. L and I got none. The entire batch of cupcakes was gone before dinner. I don't know how Sherlock and Harry didn't explode, but a walk afterwards was necessary. 

Things happened. Harry is now apparently planning L's stag do. I am sensibly terrified. 

Woke up around three and had a chat with Harry, who was sleeping on our couch. It was...good. We'll probably never be close the way L and Nicky are, but maybe we can do better than we have been. 

marriage of true brains

Interesting photos from a professor of neuroscience, Eran Gilat.
Found while googling ice brains with Sherlock.

We had lunch with Jo and Lisa today. They seem to have every detail of their wedding firmly under control. Lisa said she started thinking about it two years ago. Lestrade and I are planning to get married this spring or summer, and we haven't even started. The more I think about it, the more it starts turning into a mental game of 'who can I afford to offend by not inviting them?'

Well...that's overstating it. Obviously, I don't want to offend anyone, and it's possible my parents may not even want to come. It's a long trip for them, and they're getting older. But once you get outside immediate family, any hypothetical guest list seems to grow exponentially until you're inviting your cousin's dentist, and there's tulle draped over everything, and ice sculptures of zombies eating ice brains.

I told Harry I thought twenty people would be more than enough, and she laughed at me until I was forced to hang up on her. But Harry's wedding was enormous, and she probably would've invited our cousin's dentist, if we had cousins. She might be right to laugh though. When I count up the people I consider immediate family these days, there's already 11 of them, and that's not counting me and Lestrade.

Texts, after I hung up on her.

Harry: you should run away and get married in vegas
Harry: by elvis
Harry: wearing elvis costumes
Harry: WHILE SKYDIVING

christmas photos

Happy Christmas, everyone. I hope it was a good one. It certainly was for us. I'm too tired to give a full report, but it had all the usual desired components - good food and people we care for. Lestrade outdid himself with dinner, and Mrs Holmes, Mycroft, and Sherlock created some new version of Cluedo understandable only to them. 

Here's a picture from a while ago (you can tell by the blue sky). Someone had hung one of the trees with these two little baubles. 

And here's a close up of our tree with massive sparkly snowflake. 

Jumper report: Mrs Hudson knit me a very nice jumper. It's mainly cream with red cuffs and collar, and some cabling stuff in the middle and on the sleeves. I think it's lovely, and not too Christmassy. Should be able to wear it all winter if L doesn't make off with it and bury it somewhere... 

And now, everything is cleaned up, Sherlock and Mycroft are asleep, and L is waiting for me in bed while I blog like someone who has nothing better to be doing, when clearly I do, so...good night. 

the world didn't end

We had only minor apocalypses during Sherlock's play, thankfully. He did very well, and we were very proud to watch him, especially the violin piece he played at the beginning. Lestrade also played very well, and we were proud of him as well...especially when he caught the goat.

The kings were following a star, you see, and by star I mean a spotlight with an inexplicably purple gel on it. The gel was positioned wrong, started to smoke...maybe some small flames. I went to turn it off while Mrs N dealt with panicky children. L insists the goat was coming right for me and he manfully wrestled it to the ground, and good thing too, since I was without my goat proof pants.

After a few tears and excited shrieks from the kids, things calmed down a little, and Mrs N got them back on track. They actually finished the play. I was impressed. Sherlock came up to me afterward and said, very proudly, 'None of that was my fault!'

And then there was cake. And later, mulled wine. It was very nice. Mrs H had some and measured me quite thoroughly for the jumper she's knitting. More thoroughly than I have every been measured before. And more unnecessarily too, since she took my measurements two weeks ago... She also showed us a corner of it. Seems to be mainly cream coloured with cables and some red bits. I don't think even L will be able to object! 

they cannot look out far, they cannot look in deep

We left this morning to go and visit Nicky and her family and Lestrade's mum. Left the boys at Nicky's house, went to the hospital...had a very quiet visit. Clearly quieter than L expected. Quieter than I expected, to be honest. She barely said a word.

Nice lunch with everyone afterward, and then the drive home. Sherlock entertained everyone for a while with various videos he found on youtube and then fell asleep. Mycroft told us a bit about his and Carla's plans for next weekend. He said we can fit it all in if everyone keeps to the schedule. L asked him what he thought the chances of that were. He said about 17%. I'm pretty sure there'll be ice skating though, at least.

We played Cluedo this evening, which ended as well as you might expect, with the board overturned and pieces all over the room. Sherlock insisted his character didn't do it and that we had no evidence...

And then Lestrade casually mentioned that next Sunday is...well, a sort of anniversary for us. I'm really bad at remembering dates. Even when the event in question was extremely memorable. I love him every day, sometimes so much it's almost frightening to me. Certainly more than I ever thought I was capable of. I hope that makes up for it. We've got a date for next Sunday if Mrs Hudson can look after Sherlock. Which, given her willingness to aid and abet on previous dates, seems extremely likely. I'll ask her in the morning, which is coming all too soon. 

going fast, slowly

Sherlock's mum picked him up from school today and took him to get cake. I gather she was regaled with every last detail regarding the Christmas show, including the colour of lights he wants on his halo. He also got her to sign a contract saying she'd be there. It covers a number of contingencies, including alien invasion, zombie apocalypse, and nuclear war. In all cases, she is expected to attend the show, even if some of Sherlock's classmates attempt to eat her brain.

With all this time on my hands, I helped Mrs Hudson bake:

Went for a run. Thought about some things, which didn't turn out as badly for me as it usually does. Cleaned the kitchen, waded around in Sherlock's room to make sure  there was nothing growing in there that shouldn't be. And had the following exchange of texts with Anthea:

Me: are you coming to christmas dinner?

A: what's in it for me

Me: the opportunity to wash a lot of dishes after

A: you mean make my minions wash a lot of dishes

Me: thought you said they weren't your minions

A: reconsidering. may need to start life of supervillany, in which case minions necessary 

I think Harrow may be getting to her. 

And lastly, here is a cheetah running very fast...very slowly.

those winter sundays

When I was young, my father had a painting. It was of a very brown forest with some brownish grass, coppery leaves, dusty coloured sky. Generally brown. There was a brown stag in, standing between two trees, and through some mental oddity or lack of visual development, I could not see it. Harry could see it, and had always been able to, even when she was my age. I think I was about three or four then. It's one of my first memories. 

Harry got so angry with me over it. In looking back, I can see she thought I was pretending not to see it, presumably to annoy her, as younger brothers do. At the time, I had no idea why she was shouting. And I remember my father sending her out of the room, showing me right where the stag was, lifting me up so I could touch, but it was no good. Still invisible. He showed me again the next day and I don't even know how many times after that, until one day I could see it. 

I suppose my point is that the holidays always make me think of my family, and I'm trying to be more positive about it this year. Doesn't come naturally, but there you are. 

-

You can also listen to him read it here if you want to.

Those Winter Sundays
Robert Hayden

neither out far nor in deep

I saw Harry for lunch today while L was visiting his mum. She's still sober, and she got a promotion recently, so we were semi-celebrating. Which isn't to say we managed not to piss each other off at all, because we didn't, but even so, it was nice. 

She said she'd like Sherlock to stay with her overnight some time. If he wants to and his mum is all right with it, I think I would be too, at this point. It's funny, thinking about the two of them, Harry wasn't that different from him as a kid. Maybe more socially aware, less sure of herself, but I remember her being absolutely enraged when people (mostly our parents) told her the truth was inappropriate, just the way Sherlock is. I wonder if we might've got along better if she weren't my sister

-

Neither Out Far Nor In Deep
Robert Frost

low tide

Well. I imagine you've read L's post so you know his mum is in hospital after a stroke. He's staying with Nicky. I've answered all of Sherlock's and Mycroft's questions that I could. And now I'm really just sitting here staring out the window and failing to think of things to type. So I'd better go and try to sleep. Good night, everyone. Thank you for all the support today. 

Low Tide
Edna St Vincent Millay

science!

More here. I thought Sherlock would like these and probably some of you will too. 

I had a dream last night that I'd asked L to marry me and he said yes, and then I woke up and I had to wake him up to make sure it wasn't just a dream...very peculiar. 

Mrs Holmes rang me today to congratulate us and offer to send us to Antartica for our honeymoon. It's sometimes quite difficult to tell when she's joking. 

Did you know they make wood wedding bands? I didn't know that until today. 

Nicky - I don't think I ever answered your comment on L's blog, and I'm sorry. I thought my answer very hard at you, which I realise I've been doing more and more lately. (Note to self: telepathy still doesn't work.) Thank you. You and your family have been so kind and welcoming to me and Mycroft and Sherlock right from the beginning, and it means a lot to all of us. I hope we'll see all of you at Christmas. 

Right, I am off to do the shopping and to pick Sherlock up from school. L, let me know if you have anything to add to the following list contributed to by Mrs Hudson, various elderly neighbours, and security:

amazeballs

The post's title is Carla's reaction when we told Nicky and her family the news. I think that sums up my reaction pretty well, too. If you haven't heard, go and check L's blog.

No, I mean it, go. He tells it better than I do.