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Here you will find poetry, opinion and prose mixed together in roughly equal measure. Add one man available from specialist suppliers only. Stick everything into a blender for five minutes. Stir gently with a wooden spoon, then pour slowly into tall glasses with crushed ice.

No cherries. No little parasols. No curly straws. Let the drink speak for itself.

I am so fed up of mud. It’s everywhere right now. The poor chickens are miserable, I do my best to ensure their coop is dry by the time they go to bed but during daylight hours they have to scratch around in a soupy bog. I’m having to lay down fresh straw every single morning, and every night I’m having to remove their bedding and replace it with fresh to ensure they have somewhere warm and dry to sleep. You’re supposed to do this, depending on who you talk to and what you read, once a week or every [...]

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