Monday, Third Week in Denver
Well diary, I can honestly say today was the longest, most fraught day of my whole career. I arrived at work after having the most fun weekend I had had in ages, revelling in all of the techy glory of the Digital Sports Expo. What is it about Denver? I would never have gone to something like that in DC, too concerned with what others might think of me attending alone, or judging me for doing something so absolutely geeky. But here I feel freer to try things for the first time, and I really am keen to do things I like rather than what others deem socially acceptable. Anyway, the weekend was great.
Monday, wow, what a day! First, we acquired (?) a new supervisor, Teresa Capadiamonte (apparently Oliver is a fan). She certainly is wild! She worked with Oliver's grandfather so she is … experienced. She said she wanted to get to know us and how we tick. Really, I think she just wants to hide away in the DLO practicing her grand jetes and port de bras. (I was such a keen ballerina for those six months at the age of nine. I am amazed I remember anything.)
Sidenote: Where does Oliver O'Toole get off? He spent last week opening up his heart, crying into his gin rickey about his missing wife (okay I made the crying part up) and then this week, after he asked me about my weekend (and I maybe went a little OTT about the expo) he tells me that we had not yet reached the point of sharing personal information! I ought to … well I don't know what I ought to do. It's not as if I could hack his life and do any digital damage. Sami Reindeer herders have more contact with technology than he does! I best he has the same size digital footprint as some inhabitant of a deep, dark, and as yet undiscovered jungle hidden from the outside world. Anyway, how rude!
So, on to today's letter. We were tasked (or do we task ourselves?) with delivering a letter to 'Grandma' from a young boy. It was a real 'mystery of the week', with the boy being in witness protection and attempting to escape so he could see Grandma for her birthday. We went to Lendimer Manor looking for the right grandmother. Who knew that there were so many possible names for a grandmother? Oma, Nana, Meemaw, Bubbe, Granny, Nona, Momo, Bibi, Yaya, Gam Gam, and I am sure I have forgotten a heap. We must have been boring – I had Grandma and Nanny.
At the Aged Care facility we questioned the staff and residents to try and give the letter to the correct owner. Those residents are busy! I mean I thought I stepped it up a notch going to an expo, but these guys were dancing, singing, doing yoga, playing mallet sports, and that was all before lunch. I had my tablet filched by an out-there (and I do mean out there, like in orbit out-there) lady named Shirley, who said she was checking it for transmissions from Vega. Sure Shirley, just hand back my tablet. Norman made friends with a lovely lady named Arleen, who had an amazing stamp collection, and we met a lovely lady named Vivienne, who in fact was the letter's intended recipient.
It turned out, that Vivienne was pretending not to know who the letter was from because she was trying to protect her grandson, Casey. After a bit of a false start, where we returned to the DLO to regroup, we put the pieces together. With lunch came cutlery and clarity. We returned to Lenimer Manor to talk to Vivienne in order to convince her that we could help. Oliver's 'the letter is like a Shakespearean sonnet' routine seemed to do the trick. (Seriously, why is Shakespeare literally everywhere? Maybe Oliver likes having a contemporary around.)
Right, back to the case. Donna, the staff member at the Care facility was actually Sylvia, the girlfriend of the criminal at the centre of all of this. Casey had witnessed Laslo, the drug-dealing lowlife kill another drug dealer, which set all of this in motion. We assured Vivienne that we could take her to Casey and protect them both from Donna/Sylvia. The plan was complex. Norman would stop Donna's car, Rita and I would find Casey and make contact with the authorities, and Oliver would go to the house we 'borrowed' from Norman's cousin Wade, and catch up with Sylvia. Flawless right? Well, it turns out it worked! At this point diary, I need to make a small confession. I may have in fact, floored Oliver's car as I drove away slightly on purpose. I think the look on his face made it worth it.
All was well that ended well, and we were joined by Casey and Vivienne's family, the Marshall service and Teresa Capadiamonte! She really is a gem. She set the Marshalls straight and reconnected Oliver with his grandfather by telling him all about his Dark of Night Award apparently.
Importantly, I did get Vivienne's recipe for her famous pancakes. I shall be jogging every day this week, but I don't care, they were too good!
Peanut Butter and Banana Pancake Recipe
1 to 1 ½ cups of plain flour
15 – 20 grams of baking powder
1 tblsp sugar
Pinch salf
1 cup milk
1 very ripe banana, mashed
45 g of peanut butter
1 egg
1 tblsp melted butter
Vanilla
Combine dry ingredients in a bowl. Combine wet ingredients in a separate bowl. Hand beat together until combined. Cook in a hot frypan coated in butter. Cook until air bubbles form then flip. Serve hot with syrup.
(based loosely on the recipe found at recipe/231394/peanut-butter-banana-pancakes/)
I am exhausted. Is this what life will be like now, catching killers and unmasking drug cartels? With a side of mail recovery? Goodnight.
P.S. McInerney can you control you tongue? You asked Oliver to be careful, like you cared, and then told him he was brilliant! Zip it sister!