The working week is over. The day had thrown up several surprises, including a request to attend a conference call followed swiftly by a demand to present chunks of the material. Oh well, the big boys are obviously realising the limits of their bravado and actually need people who can distinguish a large cleft muscle group at the base of the spine from a hinged joint in the arm.
Strangely, the Gorse Fox also had to do some research into the finer points of the word processor. Features that he used frequently in the past seem to have disappeared in the latest incarnation. This has now been rectified and, if anything, are now more mature and better controlled than before.
Several personnel issues cropped up - but all got sorted. In the end.
The Silver Vixen has just hitched her sewing machine to the back of her broomstick and swept off into the evening to spend some time with her coven.