Well the most perfect and gorgeous tall standing heavy Thai brass 1945 motorised 3 speed electric nuclear fusion powered fan (that could open a big can of Golden Circle pineapple just by sticking the can into the blades) has gone. Mrs Fitz, passing the fan yesterday, in a blizzard of Han organisational momentum, put her hand into the fan, there being no safety bars etc, and the razor sharp spinning blades delivered a clean cut to a top of a finger, through the top of the finger, and through the nail. The cut was so clean it was almost art. So, Mr Fitz instantly gave the fan to the managers of the complex here who have a small child, Irina. They accepted it gratefully...its worth a fortune...sigh, yet still, Mr Johnny Fitz, in his deeply protective manner handed it over with a qualm. The qualm came later. It was sooo beautiful, sigh, so rare...but still, that's not the point. If I am not here for and to protect Mrs Fitz, then I am no Mr Fitz at all.