Spring blossoms scent the air;
the kitchen smells
of Marseilles soap and ironing.
April is not only the cruelest month, it’s also National Poetry Month. (Though I suppose that may depend on what nationality you are.)
I’m not going to be signing up for NaPoWriMo and don’t even promise 30 blog posts, let alone 30 poems this month.
Still, I do at least recognise that it’s April and there should be some poetry going on, even if I’m likely to head off on linguistic tangents as usual. Today’s tangent is to wonder why I should have only learned about Marseille soap after moving to Spain, and, in particular, after moving to Castile.
After reading in wikipedia, a new tangent appears: it seems that sapo castilliensis is the Latin name apothecaries gave to Castile soap; but why are the Latin word for “soap” and the Spanish word for “toad” the same?