You can tell you're living on Flinders island when you stretch the mince in your meatballs with Abalone. When it's an odd day when someone does not drop in.
Anyway -5040 words onwards today with spriggans, muryans, and too clever for their own good sheepdogs.
good night!
That brings back fond memories of growing up on the North Coast of California - my Dad used to go abalone diving, until he tore his wetsuit working grandpa's gold claim. After that, we just traded with friends for abs. That's something I miss, and I've not moved that far inland, but it's hard to get commercially around here.
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