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All of this came to mind in Musgrave Park this afternoon while I watched the birds purposefully foraging for food. And there is. It's all too easy. Food is plentiful (you only have to look at my butt to see that) and thus I've become too picky (literally). If I had to work for it I MIGHT be more grateful. Or not. Because of course I do work for it. not in a hunter/gather sort of way but as in a whinge about staff meetings and swear while marking sort of way. That distance is what makes all the difference - that and the fact that the cupboard is bare of chocolate. That I never reject.
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