<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s all about your embouchure\u201d<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n My Dad led our brass band Me and our Mark were tubas; \u2018Course, none of us had instruments In 2010, they let us play After pursing our way through <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Char March<\/strong> has won awards for poetry, playwrighting and short fiction. Her credits include: a short story collection Something Vital Fell Through<\/em>, five poetry collections including The Thousand Natural Shocks,<\/em> six BBC Radio 4 plays, and seven stage plays. http:\/\/www.charmarch.co.uk \u201cIt\u2019s all about your embouchure\u201d My Dad led our brass band on the euphonium; Mum did percussion from the kitchen, on the saucepans with the odd kebab skewer. Me and our Mark were tubas; Great Auntie Flo (when she had her teeth in) was flugelhorn. Our Helen\u2019s youngest two were soprano cornets. \u2018Course, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8125","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8125","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8125"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8125\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8128,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8125\/revisions\/8128"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8125"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8125"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8125"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\non the euphonium; Mum did
\npercussion from the kitchen,
\non the saucepans with the odd
\nkebab skewer.<\/p>\n
\nGreat Auntie Flo (when she had
\nher teeth in) was flugelhorn.
\nOur Helen\u2019s youngest two were
\nsoprano cornets.<\/p>\n
\n\u2013 \u2018cept Mum. But we all, according
\nto The Sally Ann, had
\n\u201cthe best embouchures
\nin Barnsley\u201d.<\/p>\n
\nalongside them in the Alhambra
\nShopping Centre for the
\nChristmas Switch-On, then
\nmincepies at Asda.<\/p>\n
\nCrimond for the fourteenth time
\nmy lips were as swollen as
\nAngelina Jolie, my smile
\ntwice as wide as Gromit\u2019s.<\/p>\n
\n<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"