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Sep. 11th, 2005 02:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladynorbertYesterday was the long-awaited Sherlock Day. This will be a long entry, you have been warned.
Yes, I've met him. Yes, I'm damn near convinced he's the real deal. Details under the cut, along with the promised pictures...but here's a teaser.
With my close personal friends, Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes.
Well, we had a little trouble finding the place, Kevin and I, but thanks to the miracle of a cell phone, our host was able to help us -- we weren't too far away when the MapQuest directions became unclear, and we could easily find our way there again. Even if we hadn't been sure of the house number, it was pretty apparent when we arrived which was the house we sought.
We were greeted at the door by our host, Denny, a.k.a. Percy Armitage (the name by which he's known on the Hounds of the Internet mailing list). I had bought coffee cups from one of my new Holmes stores (this design) for Denny, Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock and Mycroft. Had I known Dr. Watson would also be in attendance, I would of course have gotten him one too, but I didn't know. I presented Denny with his mug, and then Mrs. Hudson came out to greet me and wish me a happy birthday. It was on Tuesday, for those who don't know, but she knew it was very close to the day of the party, and so she prepared a special treat in my honor -- a traditional Victorian birthday cake, almond pound cake with dark chocolate frosting. Ohhhh, boy, was that good.
My birthday cake (and Mycroft's hat)
I received two really incredible compliments in the course of the day, and she gave me the first one when I thanked her for the special treatment. "Well, it's worth celebrating! The world is better for having you in it. You just have so much joy in you, you're a pleasure to be around." Say it with me: Awwww. I was touched.
Denny came back then with an envelope each for Kevin and me. The envelopes contained clues, and he explained that the game of the day was to find each of the seven clues distributed among the partygoers, and then assemble and solve the clues to figure out which of the Sherlock Holmes stories was the story of the day. Then he said, "Sherlock's in the basement. Come on down."
We went down the -- yes! -- seventeen steps to the basement, which was a reproduction of 221b so amazing that you never would have believed you were IN a basement. The walls of the stairwell are covered in a deep red wallpaper which gives the illusion of carved paneling, and on the walls hang framed pictures of different Sherlock performers (Jeremy Brett, Basil Rathbone, Peter Cushing, William Gillette, and many of the other, more obscure actors who have played him) and framed miniature posters of Sherlock Holmes movies. Then we stepped into the room...and there he was.
Okay, I admit it. I trembled. My knees gave out a little. But...geez...look at him!
Mycroft, whom I'd met at the last group meeting back in June, was seated beside him on a chaise lounge, and I noticed with a grin that he had his Diogenes Club tote bag with him, just as I did. He stood up as we approached and said, "I believe I've seen you before, my dear young lady!" He shook my hand and pointed at the bag, at which Sherlock half-rose to shake my hand, saying, "Oh, are you the designer? I've heard about you -- very creative!"
I hope my response was all right, because I don't have the slightest idea what it was. I did manage to coherently introduce my husband, and I gave them each their coffee mugs as well. They seemed to like them; Sherlock was actually rather fascinated.
Then we sat down to listen to what was going on. Sherlock decided to give us a demonstration of his powers, and passed out five little drawstring bags; my husband and I each got one. We were instructed to put a personal item into our bags, and the bags were then mixed up by Mycroft and given to Sherlock one at a time, so he could deduce whose item he was holding. He happened to first get Kevin's bag, which contained his sunglasses. "Hmm...these are a man's sunglasses, certainly. My face is quite narrow, and they fit me comfortably, so they do not belong to someone with a wide face...they belong to someone who likes to look cool, and achieves that objective...I believe, sir, they are yours?" And he handed them back to Kevin.
Sherlock looks pretty cool himself.
My bag was next; I had placed inside a ring that my parents gave me for my birthday a few years ago, the only jewelry I wear regularly apart from my wedding rings. It's a gold band with a diamond chip flanked by a pair of crosses. He studied it for a few minutes. "It's a lady's ring, but a bit large...the owner is a person of faith...a solid sort of character, not terribly fussy about appearances, yet with a sense of style." He lifted his head and met my eyes at once. "This is yours, madam."
After the game concluded, we all went upstairs to help ourselves to Mrs. Hudson's feast. Along with my birthday cake, she had served bannocks, trifle, Scotch eggs, spinach pie, curried chicken sandwiches, tea cakes, creamed cucumbers, kippers, and a host of other things I've since forgotten. Everything I tried was very good. While we ate, Denny put on a video of the only filmed interview Sir Arthur Conan Doyle ever gave, and we all sat around watching that.
He's Sherlock even when he thinks no one's watching.
After the video, most of us moved to the screened porch, where Mycroft was sort of holding court already. Only one person had solved the mystery of the day; in truth, I'd been so interested in everything else that I'd really forgotten to play. It seemed to be a common problem, so Denny had Sherlock read all the clues to us. I'm very pleased to say that I was the second person to solve the obscure riddles and figure out that the story of the day was "A Case of Identity," which I whispered in Denny's ear (as was the required protocol). For my prize, I received a cookbook called Dining With Sherlock Holmes.
After the prizes were all distributed, I meandered back to the basement, where Sherlock was signing autographs and posing for pictures. I wandered around, taking pictures of some what there was. The windows, which I could not do justice in a photograph, are unbelievable. Remember, it is a basement, so you're underground -- they're fake windows. But through the lace curtains, you see the buildings of what looks like Baker Street; you actually have to go up to the windows and look down to realize that none of it's real. And Denny has a soundtrack on continuous loop of Victorian street sounds -- carriages, horses, people talking, and so forth. The illusion is so complete, it's very easy to buy into the fantasy.
Watson's desk
Portrait of the Queen, and a drawing of Reichenbach Falls
Sherlock's chemistry equipment
There is at least one item in the room from each of the canon stories. Denny and his wife Jo spent about two years scouring flea markets for antiques. There's a Victorian sideboard, and Denny is a master craftsman who did all the woodwork himself. Yes, there's a Stradivarius! I even found and attempted (unsuccessfully) to photograph Watson's driver's license. You would really have to take an entire day to examine everything.
At some point, I found myself alone in the room with Sherlock, and I ended up sitting there and chatting with him about some of the other events he's attended, about my CafePress designs, and just general chitchat. The man never drops character for a second; he's thoroughly delightful. Denny came down after I'd had Sherlock to myself for a good ten minutes, and asked if he was settling into his abode all right.
"You can take the man out of 221b," said I, "but you can't take 221b out of the man."
"I couldn't have said it better myself!" said Sherlock. He turned to me, pointing with his pipe, and said, "That should be your next tote bag slogan."
A lot of the rest was a blur, but we went back upstairs. Mrs. Hudson abandoned her costume and became Flo again; I do want to point out that she sews her own costumes, on a restored treadle sewing machine. Denny also traded his Victorian suit for more comfortable clothes, and Mycroft and Dr. Watson took their leave. Before I lost the opportunity, however, I did get pictures.
I did say I was given two very great compliments, and around this time I received the second. My husband is a bit on the shy side, and very quiet, so he didn't say a great deal. Denny was making conversation with him, however, asking if he's also a Sherlockian. Kevin acknowledged that he likes Sherlock Holmes a good deal, but isn't quite as...exuberant as I am. Sherlock congratulated him on avoiding the illness. While I was talking with Mrs. Hudson, he and Kevin started talking about the deduction with the sunglasses, and Sherlock said, "I'm sure her brilliance shows itself often enough that you need them quite frequently."
Sherlock Holmes called me brilliant. I can die now.
And that was really it...except that soon all the guests had departed except Flo and Kevin and Sherlock and me, and the four of us spent a bit more time in the basement, talking. Sherlock changed from his mouse-colored dressing gown into a frock coat (I thought of you,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wens!), which he referred to as his "traveling clothes," and that was how he still was dressed when we left a short time later. This is my favorite picture of him, and apart from the one at the very top of this entry, my favorite picture from the whole day.
Oh, I almost forgot. I bought my copy of The Pocket Sherlock and had it autographed by the Master. My birthday gift to myself, you might say.
Shown actual size.
Yeah. It was a goooooood day. There is a Fangirl Nirvana, and I have achieved it.
Yes, I've met him. Yes, I'm damn near convinced he's the real deal. Details under the cut, along with the promised pictures...but here's a teaser.
With my close personal friends, Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes.
Well, we had a little trouble finding the place, Kevin and I, but thanks to the miracle of a cell phone, our host was able to help us -- we weren't too far away when the MapQuest directions became unclear, and we could easily find our way there again. Even if we hadn't been sure of the house number, it was pretty apparent when we arrived which was the house we sought.
We were greeted at the door by our host, Denny, a.k.a. Percy Armitage (the name by which he's known on the Hounds of the Internet mailing list). I had bought coffee cups from one of my new Holmes stores (this design) for Denny, Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock and Mycroft. Had I known Dr. Watson would also be in attendance, I would of course have gotten him one too, but I didn't know. I presented Denny with his mug, and then Mrs. Hudson came out to greet me and wish me a happy birthday. It was on Tuesday, for those who don't know, but she knew it was very close to the day of the party, and so she prepared a special treat in my honor -- a traditional Victorian birthday cake, almond pound cake with dark chocolate frosting. Ohhhh, boy, was that good.
My birthday cake (and Mycroft's hat)
I received two really incredible compliments in the course of the day, and she gave me the first one when I thanked her for the special treatment. "Well, it's worth celebrating! The world is better for having you in it. You just have so much joy in you, you're a pleasure to be around." Say it with me: Awwww. I was touched.
Denny came back then with an envelope each for Kevin and me. The envelopes contained clues, and he explained that the game of the day was to find each of the seven clues distributed among the partygoers, and then assemble and solve the clues to figure out which of the Sherlock Holmes stories was the story of the day. Then he said, "Sherlock's in the basement. Come on down."
We went down the -- yes! -- seventeen steps to the basement, which was a reproduction of 221b so amazing that you never would have believed you were IN a basement. The walls of the stairwell are covered in a deep red wallpaper which gives the illusion of carved paneling, and on the walls hang framed pictures of different Sherlock performers (Jeremy Brett, Basil Rathbone, Peter Cushing, William Gillette, and many of the other, more obscure actors who have played him) and framed miniature posters of Sherlock Holmes movies. Then we stepped into the room...and there he was.
Okay, I admit it. I trembled. My knees gave out a little. But...geez...look at him!
Mycroft, whom I'd met at the last group meeting back in June, was seated beside him on a chaise lounge, and I noticed with a grin that he had his Diogenes Club tote bag with him, just as I did. He stood up as we approached and said, "I believe I've seen you before, my dear young lady!" He shook my hand and pointed at the bag, at which Sherlock half-rose to shake my hand, saying, "Oh, are you the designer? I've heard about you -- very creative!"
I hope my response was all right, because I don't have the slightest idea what it was. I did manage to coherently introduce my husband, and I gave them each their coffee mugs as well. They seemed to like them; Sherlock was actually rather fascinated.
Then we sat down to listen to what was going on. Sherlock decided to give us a demonstration of his powers, and passed out five little drawstring bags; my husband and I each got one. We were instructed to put a personal item into our bags, and the bags were then mixed up by Mycroft and given to Sherlock one at a time, so he could deduce whose item he was holding. He happened to first get Kevin's bag, which contained his sunglasses. "Hmm...these are a man's sunglasses, certainly. My face is quite narrow, and they fit me comfortably, so they do not belong to someone with a wide face...they belong to someone who likes to look cool, and achieves that objective...I believe, sir, they are yours?" And he handed them back to Kevin.
Sherlock looks pretty cool himself.
My bag was next; I had placed inside a ring that my parents gave me for my birthday a few years ago, the only jewelry I wear regularly apart from my wedding rings. It's a gold band with a diamond chip flanked by a pair of crosses. He studied it for a few minutes. "It's a lady's ring, but a bit large...the owner is a person of faith...a solid sort of character, not terribly fussy about appearances, yet with a sense of style." He lifted his head and met my eyes at once. "This is yours, madam."
After the game concluded, we all went upstairs to help ourselves to Mrs. Hudson's feast. Along with my birthday cake, she had served bannocks, trifle, Scotch eggs, spinach pie, curried chicken sandwiches, tea cakes, creamed cucumbers, kippers, and a host of other things I've since forgotten. Everything I tried was very good. While we ate, Denny put on a video of the only filmed interview Sir Arthur Conan Doyle ever gave, and we all sat around watching that.
He's Sherlock even when he thinks no one's watching.
After the video, most of us moved to the screened porch, where Mycroft was sort of holding court already. Only one person had solved the mystery of the day; in truth, I'd been so interested in everything else that I'd really forgotten to play. It seemed to be a common problem, so Denny had Sherlock read all the clues to us. I'm very pleased to say that I was the second person to solve the obscure riddles and figure out that the story of the day was "A Case of Identity," which I whispered in Denny's ear (as was the required protocol). For my prize, I received a cookbook called Dining With Sherlock Holmes.
After the prizes were all distributed, I meandered back to the basement, where Sherlock was signing autographs and posing for pictures. I wandered around, taking pictures of some what there was. The windows, which I could not do justice in a photograph, are unbelievable. Remember, it is a basement, so you're underground -- they're fake windows. But through the lace curtains, you see the buildings of what looks like Baker Street; you actually have to go up to the windows and look down to realize that none of it's real. And Denny has a soundtrack on continuous loop of Victorian street sounds -- carriages, horses, people talking, and so forth. The illusion is so complete, it's very easy to buy into the fantasy.
Watson's desk
Portrait of the Queen, and a drawing of Reichenbach Falls
Sherlock's chemistry equipment
There is at least one item in the room from each of the canon stories. Denny and his wife Jo spent about two years scouring flea markets for antiques. There's a Victorian sideboard, and Denny is a master craftsman who did all the woodwork himself. Yes, there's a Stradivarius! I even found and attempted (unsuccessfully) to photograph Watson's driver's license. You would really have to take an entire day to examine everything.
At some point, I found myself alone in the room with Sherlock, and I ended up sitting there and chatting with him about some of the other events he's attended, about my CafePress designs, and just general chitchat. The man never drops character for a second; he's thoroughly delightful. Denny came down after I'd had Sherlock to myself for a good ten minutes, and asked if he was settling into his abode all right.
"You can take the man out of 221b," said I, "but you can't take 221b out of the man."
"I couldn't have said it better myself!" said Sherlock. He turned to me, pointing with his pipe, and said, "That should be your next tote bag slogan."
A lot of the rest was a blur, but we went back upstairs. Mrs. Hudson abandoned her costume and became Flo again; I do want to point out that she sews her own costumes, on a restored treadle sewing machine. Denny also traded his Victorian suit for more comfortable clothes, and Mycroft and Dr. Watson took their leave. Before I lost the opportunity, however, I did get pictures.
I did say I was given two very great compliments, and around this time I received the second. My husband is a bit on the shy side, and very quiet, so he didn't say a great deal. Denny was making conversation with him, however, asking if he's also a Sherlockian. Kevin acknowledged that he likes Sherlock Holmes a good deal, but isn't quite as...exuberant as I am. Sherlock congratulated him on avoiding the illness. While I was talking with Mrs. Hudson, he and Kevin started talking about the deduction with the sunglasses, and Sherlock said, "I'm sure her brilliance shows itself often enough that you need them quite frequently."
Sherlock Holmes called me brilliant. I can die now.
And that was really it...except that soon all the guests had departed except Flo and Kevin and Sherlock and me, and the four of us spent a bit more time in the basement, talking. Sherlock changed from his mouse-colored dressing gown into a frock coat (I thought of you,
wens!), which he referred to as his "traveling clothes," and that was how he still was dressed when we left a short time later. This is my favorite picture of him, and apart from the one at the very top of this entry, my favorite picture from the whole day.Oh, I almost forgot. I bought my copy of The Pocket Sherlock and had it autographed by the Master. My birthday gift to myself, you might say.
Shown actual size.
Yeah. It was a goooooood day. There is a Fangirl Nirvana, and I have achieved it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-09-11 07:28 pm (UTC)Sherlock changed from his mouse-colored dressing gown into a frock coat (I thought of you, wens!
Now that I know you a little better and I think I may have a little more time, I think we should perhaps think of doing our little Moriarty's Pub do in a couple of weeks. What's say you? I'll try to remember to wear the frock coat for you. XD
no subject
Date: 2005-09-11 07:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-11 07:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-11 07:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-11 07:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-11 08:00 pm (UTC)Sherlock Holmes is a master of disguise. He knows how to get around incognito. XD
no subject
Date: 2005-09-11 08:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-11 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-11 10:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-13 05:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-11 10:28 pm (UTC)No, really, that's all incredibly cool.
I love the one of Sherlock with sunglasses ... such a great image.
Oh, and the mostly-blue upholstered chair -- I had that! Well, actually it was a couch, but in exactly the same design & upholstery. Makes me wish I hadn't given it away... ;)
Oh, and if by some chance you have any more close-ups of the desks, I'd love to see them. That sort of detail gives me great joy.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-12 02:25 pm (UTC)I should point out that that was not in the 221b basement. Sherlock was sitting in Denny's living room at that point, watching the ACD interview (and referring to Doyle as "a raving lunatic"). Hope that didn't confuse anyone.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-12 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-12 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-12 02:40 pm (UTC)I'm so jealuos! And annoyed that I missed it ;)
*loves*
Sounds like you had a fantastic time, which is great! Yay!
no subject
Date: 2005-09-12 05:10 pm (UTC)"I couldn't have said it better myself!" said Sherlock. He turned to me, pointing with his pipe, and said, "That should be your next tote bag slogan."
*squeeeeeeee!* It's a good thing I wasn't there, or I should have fainted from fangirl overload. ^_^
I love the picture of Watson's desk. The workspace of a fellow writer! ^_^ So cool. And the Sherlock flag outside is just too cute!
And the last picture of 'Sherlock'--He looks very Brettian right there. But of course he's very cool in his own right. ^_^ I love the satin lapels on his dressing gown. And sunglasses!Sherlock! w00t! Not many people can say that Sherlock Holmes has worn their sunglasses. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2005-09-12 07:02 pm (UTC)Glad you had such a great time!
Heello, Sherlock!
Date: 2005-09-13 06:52 pm (UTC)