On my wanderings this afternoon, this unsympathetic colt and I had a natter, which ended in him snorting: "So what . . . I've heard on the wind that I'm losing my knackers soonish - where would you rather the knife really, brain or balls?"
The Mexican sage is a near-winter stunner: a favourite of the bees right now, and a pair of Rufus honeyeaters.
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