My old dad was usually of a cheerful disposition but, even so, his mood would notably lighten at the prospect of the month of May. “The growing and mowing month,” he used to call it. Now that I’m of the age where I have belatedly come to realise that my old chap was far more often right than he was wrong, I have found that his delight in the very merry month of May is firmly implanted in my DNA. […]
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