USING my newfound barber skills from Day 266 – although I am without comb, admittedly – I give Old Dog a haircut in amongst scenic Tasmanian rainforest.
I can’t examine the front lest I slide down a ravine, somewhere in which winds a gurgling brook by the sounds of it, but still I reckon I do a pretty decent job.
Keeper? Doing things with a lovely view makes them 90 per cent more tremendous.
Hey man, now you're really living 
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