CACTI LOOT

Posted on 29 Apr, 2009 1 comment

Once round the sun and back to an annual event in my social calendar, last year I went looting and got away with a bag full of cacti booty, this year I could spend a little more time there and study what I was doing: I’ve heard the expression, but just how do you kick yourself? I’ve tried, it’s a dammed hard job. I took a lady of Eighty summers out to celebrate her birthday and mine (just the same day not the same age) one may say an annual meet, though we did not go to the Hare and Hounds, just to a carvery, this lady has more than her fair share of marbles notching up a B.A with honours at Seventy Eight that’s fair going: in her younger days would shear a sheep, take the fleece home, wash and card it prior to spinning it into wool, then dying it before knitting a cardigan, jumper, sweater, sea-boot socks what-ever was the need, plays the piano and accordion: plus being a natural gardener, and I use this in the broadest sense of the term. With the early evening dinner over, I drove her home to her spa town through the avenues of pristine gardens where evenly striped sward was militarily aligned to the grow-more addicted flower borders, and so to her house, next door to a neighbour known as Mr Parks and Gardens, who is less than enthusiastic with my friends blossom and dead twig dripping cherry tree, that helps to support the brick-wall pillar, having once held a black metal half gate, on the other side, the top gate support is missing but the half gate was still there, retained by the bottom hinge support and leaning against the wooden fence, we made our way through a carpet of purposely grown dandelions (to feed the tortoise) still in flower, having not yet seed set, and so to the front door, struggling past the soon to be six foot geranium (pelargonium) brought home from the Scilly Isles (as a cutting). I managed to step over the tortoise and avoid the two cats that came running to meet her, past the grand father clock and spinning wheel and so to the inner sanctum looking again at the duelling pistols on the wall, I really would like to polish them up, but being part of her late husband’s life’s winnings, I once more remained quiet on the subject. There are so many plants in the house a machete is needed to get to the kitchen, a gross exaggeration of course but it sets the scene. OK it was not a real loot but as near as makes no difference, because I did ask if I could have some cuttings: last year I saw what I thought was a much abused and very confused cactus so I took a cutting then turned the pot round to the wall so she did not see what I’d cut off , This year I turned the pot to look at the cut and there was another cactus coming off it, being about 3½ inches long, looking at the clump formed in the pot in looked really strange and well pot bound, pot bound it may well be, but clump forming is what this cactus does and it was because of the clump I was able to identify it as a GOLDEN RAT TAIL. I’ve been looking for a Rat tail cactus for over a year, and I’ve had one in my house all that time trying to make it stand up, when it should be lying down. So just how do you kick yourself, I think I’m going to remember Cleistocactus Winteri for a very long time, all I have to do now is to get it to grow correctly in a hanging basket can’t wait for it to flower.