With Moran safely in the cells at Scotland Yard, a blanket pinned over the broken window, and Mrs. Hudson's fine celebratory dinner inside us we talked till all hours, but at last the wine and the aftermath of all the day's excitement left us both drowsy. I considered going back to my own home – I would have to face my surgery hours soon enough – but the couch was closer, and once I had shooed Holmes off to bed I let my eyes close, hoping for a night of uninterrupted sleep.

It was not my nightmare, but his, that woke us.






crossposted to watsons_woes

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Well, the dishes aren't done, but I've managed to make a shirred egg for the very first time thanks to this guy over on youtube.

I also tried to create a Library Thing widget for my lj, but it didn't work very well.



I mean, I can make something, but I can't figure out how to actually put it into my format, so I just put a link on the sidebar instead.

*looks thoughtfully at the dishes and tries to get excited*

And if I do this again, I need to remember to bring along my own radio, because I couldn't hear the concert very well.

But the fireworks were Goooooooood...

So, at the last minute I called around to see if I could get tickets for one of the harbor cruises to go watch the Constitution turn around.

Really wanted the clipper ship. They didn't answer the phone.

Tried another number. No answer.

Got the Odyssey! Yay! Lobster lunch! 84 bucks! Ouch, but yay!

No refunds! But of course!

What time do we board? 11! Yay! Plenty of time to go out and see the Constitution do its thing at noon. Here's my credit card number! Yay!

The ship leaves the dock at noon.

Er...

*sigh*

Oh, well, at least there will be lobster. I like lobster. And clams.

*headdesk headdesk headdesk*

Happy Fourth!

silliness gacked from pipli

The clip is from a German movie about Hitler, so if you understand German you might want to turn down the sound to keep from being distracted from the new subtitles which have been added. (From what I can tell, this clip has been resubtitled a whole bunch of times on every topic under the sun.) This version was lots of fun at nearly two in the morning, though, especially if you've been reading the rants that appear in comment sections throughout the internet every time the subject of the new movie gets raised. (Warning for them that cares: the language is *not* polite.)

With Martha Jones and Doctor number Two over here: http://cesario.livejournal.com/264526.html

Spoilers for Year That Never Was.

http://www.gloriouscreative.co.uk/blog/elementary-my-dear-watson.htm'

And this site: http://www.aceshowbiz.com/movie/sherlock_holmes/ has two stills which haven't hit the official site yet, and I haven't seen elsewhere in their collection. (Not Watson alas...)

A watched pot never boils.

An unwatched pot boils over...



*sighs and cleans up stove*

Over at Empire Magazine.

Click on the little pictures to see the big versions.

Interestingly, the colors or contrast on the trailer seems different on the US site : http://sherlock-holmes-movie.warnerbros.com/ and the UK site :
http://wwws.warnerbros.co.uk/sherlockholmes/ Which I notice, of course, because Watson's uniform thingy looks more blue on the UK site, even on the same computer.

The pain had been an old friend, as familiar as the lullabies of my childhood. It proved my existence, kept me struggling against my abductors. The morphine put an end to that, denying me any touchstone to reality as neatly as it denied me all hope of escaping from under the attic floorboards. I drifted in my wooden coffin, only vaguely aware of police whistles and the crack of gunfire.

"Watson?"

I heard my name, distantly. Had I been in possession of my body, I might have tried to answer, but as it was I could do nothing but wait.

October gave way to November, and Watson reverted to his chair by the fire, finally glad that the Army had refused him that summer. I was glad too, for the rain which solved my latest case, and thought it appropriate that we celebrate. But after the first rattle of firecrackers outside drained all the blood from my fellow lodger's face I made haste to pour a little more brandy into his glass. "Guy Fawkes," I said, and he blinked away the haze of another vision.

"I remember," he said, and it was not only the gunpowder plot that he meant.

The internet has its wonders... I just came across a blog aimed at soldiers headed for Afghanistan here and I can't help but wonder how much of that would apply to Watson...

Chai, certainly!

Is there a simple tutorial out there for how to make an animated icon? You know, one of those things where you get a picture or two, then words, then picture, then words... Or even just a rotation of pictures? Or is there a website/program that I can use?

I can crop a pic down to 100 x 100 pixels without a whole lot of trouble, but after that I'll admit I'm lost.

Had to go to doctor today and due to various considerations (like I work with children who go to schools that have been closed due to flu and then come to the library instead, and my asthma had me coughing like a badly tuned engine) I was persuaded to allow the doctor to take a couple of flu swabs for testing.

They're nasal swabs.

Before she started, she gave me a kleenex box to hold.

Why? you wonder. So did I, and she explained nicely that the box was for me to hold so that when I hit the point when I felt like punching her I couldn't.

Even with that kind of fair warning, I must say that nasal swabs have now topped my list of medical pokings designed to send one immediately from "gosh, that's uncomfortable" straight to "WHATTHEMCWHOSITDOYOUTHINKYOU'REDOINGTOMELADY???!!" without passing GO or collecting 200 dollars.

And gee, whiz, kids, we get to do it twice! To the same nostril!

*whimper*


I think, after all that, I'm kind of hoping that it will turn out to be the flu. Just to make the pain worth the gain and all. And because if I have it now, no one's going to make me have to swab my nose again on the next round of flu, because I'll be immune, right?

The new Sherlock Holmes trailer has inspired some truly cracky fics, to which I now add my mite, inspired by janeturenne and Jude Law in that uniform thingie (see icon). Slashy, for them that minds... Silly, too.


Per Suit

The brown suit disappears out of the wardrobe on Tuesday, and when it turns up again, it is ensconced in Mrs. Hudson's mending basket where it will stay until she can find matches ( for the one remaining button. )

I'm not sure how exactly to use this, but I'm amused.

http://dickensurl.com/add2/Hes_tough_maamtough_is_J_B_tough_and_devilish_sly should lead you back here. instead of a tinyurl, you get actual Dickens!

If you wants one, go to http://dickensurl.com/

Gacked from semyaza.

By the time everyone, including Dr. Whittaker, Dr. Elliott, and the snowplow driver, who was waiting for his cast to set sufficiently hard for traveling, had gotten some breakfast, the sky had brightened as much as it was going to. But the snow was still coming down, even though cars inched their way along the main street and the muted roar of plows could be heard from the nearby highway. Mollie turned up in mukluks and an ancient parka, and she and Terry and Ernie started setting the place to rights and sterilizing the used equipment. Trapper checked over Gonzo and Stanley a little more carefully after he'd had his morning coffee, and got Dr. Elliott to take a look at the frostbite and Carson to look at Stanley's head. ( Then they sat down to debate whether or not to try to get Stanley and Gonzo down to San Francisco Memorial. )

Coffee is a good thing, Ernie thought as she looked out at the snow tumbling lazily down past the streetlights. The sky was only just starting to lighten behind the overcast. She'd caught a nap for a couple of hours while Carson watched over the three men, but the arrival of Dr. Elliott and a snowplow driver with a sprained ankle had wakened her. She took another sip and composed herself for the morning. Regardless of the weather, none of them were going to be able to get back to San Francisco in time for the morning shift. And with snow still falling, there wasn't going to be a helicopter coming to change that. ( She would have to call. )

Saturday: cleaned frantically, read old fanfic whenever the asthma got too dicey for cleaning.

Sunday: cleaned in morning, had actual social life in afternoon.

Monday: had social life AGAIN! Went to park with amusements as opposed to amusement park, watched Krazy Kat in a nickelodeon, played skeeball, ate junkfood, went to shop and bought games and books. Saw tall ship leaving harbor, heading for Maine. Only disappointment of day: Sudoku book that promised would be hard, but last and theoretically hardest puzzle in back only took twenty minutes to solve. Didn't even last the whole train ride.

Am tired now...

00:23-24 Looks like Holmes is running down a dark alleyway, but is that figure in the distance Watson? Sure looks like his big comfy coat.

00:39. Someone's tied up hanging by their hands behind that flame. Could be Watson, could be Irene Adler. Hard to tell. Don't think it's Holmes, though.

00:46/47 That blurry profile on the left. Definitely Watson.

( go ahead and laugh while I keep looking... )

http://www.traileraddict.com/trailer/sherlock-holmes/trailer

Mixed feelings... but on the whole, the glimpses we see of Watson look promising...

yeah, I'm still interested.

And gawd, I want a screencap of Watson in that black uniform thingie that we only get a glimpse of...

( embed under cut, if it works )

Trapper had made the incision, and was fussing with a primitive drill when Ernie got into the room that they were using as an operating theater. She paused a moment to settle her stomach. They had propped Stanley on his stomach, with his torso supported by a thick layer of blankets while his feet and hands trailed in pans of water. Trapper and Dr. Elliott were working at Stanley's head, while Terry passed instruments and Gary carefully worked on the frost-damaged extremities and renewed the hot water bottles that were bringing Stanley's core temperature back up to something reasonable, and Steve sat working the anesthesia.

Ernie made her way to Terry. "Where do you want me?"

"Here," Terry gave her the tray. "You pass the silverware while I work with Gary. It'll help if we can get his temperature stabilized."

"Right." Ernie took up her position. It was her first chance to get a good look at the damage, and she was appalled. Stanley's face was puffy with fluid and he had the ‘raccoon mask' of bruising that indicated serious cerebral hemorrhaging. Most of the back of his head was purple with subcutaneous bleeding as well, and past Trapper's shoulder she could see the jagged edges of a hole right through the bone. The x-rays on the light box weren't reassuring, except in that there was no sign of whatever had pierced the skull. The blood coming out was dark and viscous. Ernie guessed that Stanley could have been bleeding into the brain since last night and her heart sank. ( This was not good. )