text_original: * * * * * Working my way round to another thicket of rhododendrons, that is a bank of purple and creamy white in June, once more I sent the silver dust flying with my trusty broom. As one great mass came hurtling down, it so deluged me that for the moment I had to hold my breath, shut my eyes, and clutch on to a branch to keep myself from being buried under it.
text_transcription: WORKING MY WAY ROUND TO ANOTHER THICKET OF RHODODENDRONS THAT IS A BANK OF PURPLE AND CREAMY WHITE IN JUNE ONCE MORE I SENT THE SILVER DUST FLYING WITH MY TRUSTY BROOM AS ONE GREAT MASS CAME HURTLING DOWN IT SO DELUGED ME THAT FOR THE MOMENT I HAD TO HOLD MY BREATH SHUT MY EYES AND CLUTCH ON TO A BRANCH TO KEEP MYSELF FROM BEING BURIED UNDER IT
phonemes: ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk wˈɜːkɪŋ maɪ wˈeɪ ɹˈaʊnd tʊ ɐnˈʌðɚ θˈɪkɪt ʌv ɹˌoʊdədˈɛndɹənz, ðæt ɪz ɐ bˈæŋk ʌv pˈɜːpəl ænd kɹˈiːmi wˈaɪt ɪn dʒˈuːn, wˈʌns mˈɔːɹ aɪ sˈɛnt ðə sˈɪlvɚ dˈʌst flˈaɪɪŋ wɪð maɪ tɹˈʌsti bɹˈuːm. æz wˈʌn ɡɹˈeɪt mˈæs kˈeɪm hˈɜːɾəlɪŋ dˈaʊn, ɪt sˌoʊ dˈɛljuːdʒd mˌiː ðæt fɚðə mˈoʊmənt aɪ hædtə hˈoʊld maɪ bɹˈɛθ, ʃˈʌt maɪ ˈaɪz, ænd klˈʌtʃ ˌɔn tʊ ɐ bɹˈæntʃ tə kˈiːp maɪsˈɛlf fɹʌm bˌiːɪŋ bˈɛɹid ˈʌndɚɹ ɪt.