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Someone has to do it:
Growing up in the coastal mountains in California on a small ranch, snakes were a given but it was like shirts or skins in basketball: The good snakes and the bad snakes were easy to identify.
In Maryland? The farm is along a marsh and then bordered by by woods. I am surrounded. The little mnemonic I learned about the coral snake is “red touch yellow, kill a fellow.”
What the **** does that mean!
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1996 FJ80.
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