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On this warm, sultry, morning I raised a healthy sweat bagging up, in readiness for the next dump trip, Jackie’s clippings from the path beneath the fallen arch.
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I noticed an early mushroom nodding to mossy rocks bordering Margery’s Bed.
This afternoon, on a forest drive, we encountered several groups of
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ponies, one sporting an original sunblock, either beside the skip outside the former village shop which had been their customary hopeful resting place;
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or on the move elsewhere.
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In this sequence, when enlarged, you may notice the distant gentleman pushing a buggy in the second picture, who becomes obscured by the Modus and emerges alongside the equines on the road.
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More foals were in evidence outside Little Croft Farm on Bull Hill.
This evening we all dined on herb and garlic roast chicken and potatoes; carrots, cauliflower, cabbage, fine beans, and broccoli tender stems; and meaty gravy, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.