F**king murder, isn't it, Al'; When ye get to that age when the mind's just starting to slip away and ye can't even remember how f**king old you are!
I lost track, a few years ago, of how old I was. F**k it. Doesn't matter. I tell the horses, every night; " See ye in the morning. Give ye ye breakfast ~ If I'm still around to. "
Best of all, I've realised that Rosie Horse, the ungrateful mare, will definitely out live me. Now, I gleefully torment her with daily reminders that she'll be f**ked when I go.
Fork me pete Thats a bit morbid............................ I'll try it on