Particularly Peculiar

Day 326: When I was in third or fourth grade, I experienced a peculiar phenomenon of euphonics in that after saying the word "broom" several times in succession, it ceased to have meaning in my mind and became simply a mellifluous sound; meditative, if you will, and possibly akin to the similar "Om" of yogic mantra. I was a strange child, to be sure, and even then, my fascination with language and semantics was strong. Another linguistic form which continued to intrigue me into adulthood was that of the tongue-twister, and I went well beyond "she sells sea shells by the sea shore" to write my own. ""Few-fruited fennel flowers freely following frost" and "Merrily chewing cherries, very cheery veeries chirrup" are but two examples. However, one which seeped beyond the boundary of true tongue-twister into the realm where meaning ceases to apply was "particularly, peculiarly." It is not a complete sentence, and therefore I do not categorize it as a true tongue-twister, but try it three times fast. You will undoubtedly discover that you're putting an extra "-lar-" in the second word, and then a few repetitions further on, you may begin to wonder whether you are pronouncing it correctly or not. It's a rather disorienting feeling to lose a piece of your language. You may even feel mildly nauseous or dizzy. (The Surgeon General insists that I display that warning to potential practitioners.)

I'd like to be able to work that phrase into today's post, but the best I can do is to say that Clematis and Nigella both have particularly peculiar preposterously pretty pods. It's been a long week.