Been off the grid for a bit dear readers. This is for two reasons. Mostly I have been working like a Sherpa. Secondly the Catering wing and bathroom facilities of Chez-Chap are now being re-built to my exacting specifications, and this has eaten up a lot of run-time.
To keep myself sane have had the odd afternoon off playing with my pet Sopwith Camel and am slowly getting the hang of this 'staying up on rising currents of air' lark.
However, with my nose this close to the grind stone, I have had little time to reflect upon my environment - in the same way a fireman chooses not to reflect on the beauty of the conflagration before him - or a sea captain chooses not to dissolve into a brown study to contemplate the wonders of the deeps before him.
I have been considering the taxonomy of my female acquaintances. Mainly for amusement (and their good), but chiefly following a conversation with The Scot - whom I know to be a reader. (You know who you are my dear...how is Morocco?)
These dryadic delights exist in many forms and I believe they bear classification. The nature of which I have not had time to give more than sufficient consideration to bear out a few basic categories. I feel there may be telling amusement therein - so if / when I get around to it - watch this space.
But to my female readership - ask yourself this - how would you choose to stir paint? Your answer will give me a clue to the appropriate taxonomy.