Ahhh... last day of daywatch (for another two weeks, anyway) and the third 12-hour shift in a row. I'm friggin' tired. I also now have a roast in my freezer from the deer (Gary cut me a roast out in thanks for giving him the beastie.) I have no idea how to cook this thing. I do not cook. I especially do not know how to cook deer meat. I've never eaten deer meat before. I don't have an aversion to it; I've just never had the opportunity. I do not hunt. This is not for moral or ethical reasons; it's simply because hunting is cold and wet and boring. I may have to buy a crock pot and just slow cook the damn thing.

Mike and I drove to a house fire scene this morning (you're allowed to be a gawker when you're a cop!) because we'd heard that it had been a pretty serious blaze. Sure enough there was one house that was completely destroyed--down to the pilings (still burning in a few spots, in fact) and the houses on either side had sustained significant damage as well.

But the surreal thing was that here was this residence where the fire had been bad enough to destroy the house, the car, and even the trees in the front yard... and in the driveway was a fresh newspaper in its plastic bag. Yes, By God, the delivery person had actually delivered a newspaper to this still-smoldering house.

I have got to start bringing my digital camera to work with me.