Then you held on to it, improved it, gradually the area became more sought after.
.
Sweet peas like huge green hands full of colour grasping at nothing.
I have welts and fissures on my hands to show for the effort and the heat from the pot it cooks in is as ferocious as anything on bonfire night.
I never went back there even though her cafe was on the corner of my tiny pedestrian street and I passed her every day blackly sweeping up, looking as though she was still mulling over my ridiculous request.
Peas, I have come late to you too, believing that you were difficult to grow.