Today I spent the last hour of work splitting up the large clumps of poppies and pansies that people had sown into single pots so that they had more room to grow, and so that we could sell them in a plant sale sometime next week.
May is when people start looking for plants for their garden, so it's a good time to get shot of a few of them and make some money for the Friends. 🙂
I also had a brainwave that we had a couple of old sneeze screens lying around from the Covid lockdown days, so I propped them against the wall on the upstairs balcony and made an impromptu lean-to greenhouse kind of... thing. Just to harden the plants off.
The pansies and quite a few of the other plants - gazanias and godetias mainly - went into a box with an old perspex leaflet stand on the top to cover it. Good enough. 😆
Buh and Duh had throat-sound while Puh and Tuh had none. It made me think of the river in Pawtucket that ran freely all the way to Slater Mills where it met with wheelpits, sluices, dams and spillways. Throat-sound flowed up from inside you until it was chopped and spliced and segmented by the busy factory of the mouth, departing from your body as words.
--- From A Sign of Her Own (2024) by Sarah Marsh, page 93 (Tinder Press)
Jamès
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