Far from it, its Garbologist HQ this very morning. No camp dancing fawns to be had here, just wet screws, smashed bits of broken wood, and freezing, damp gloves. The sides a bit of a state just now as we await the return of the 14th century Raleigh Racer with 4-decades out of production tyres on it before the bike shelter gets a wee tidy.
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