Well, ok, it doesn’t look much. Five inches of green stem and a prickle or two. So I could just about understand – one of us is a zealous cleaner and tidier of the cottage, both house and garden (often needful) – that it may just vanish in the haze. Away, when I got back, deciding to pot the stem up, or at least try and get it to root, I discovered it had gone. GONE! We hunted through the rubbish bin. No. Through the kitchen compost bin. No. I tore the Hoover bag open. No. Crisis.
I’d found it in Italy. We’d been wandering back to the hotel through the old town section of Eboli. Parts rebuilt, parts still a-crumble. Hanging through the gorgeous rusty ironwork of a Baroque window frame was a floppy tangle of a cactus I’d not seen before. Triangular stems perhaps half an inch thick, a few weakly spined areoles along the ridges. Epiphyllum? Aporocactus? Some sort of Rhipsalis? My companions, deep in wine-chat, I let wander ahead into the darkness. I could only reach the longest stem. It wouldn’t part on the first yank. Feeling ever more criminal, I yanked harder. A light came on. A final yank gave me the five inches of stem and I slunk off into the shadows.
I confess here to thieving. There’s a wonderful epiphyllum with extraordinary pendant flowers, white, night opening, many petalled, from a garden in Antigua. That’s it to the left. Not a nice smell (another I have makes my knees go weak). If you have any idea of what it is, let me know please!
So the Eboli snitch was to add to the line of infamy – but I just have a hunch that the flowers will be rather special – in a few season’s time anyway.
However, this morning, Colin had remembered where he’s thrown some garden-room ‘rubbish’. The bin we use for carting logs to the sitting room. It was there! Amongst tattered scented geranium leaves, dead foliage from spent bulbs. Safe. Unharmed. Ready to be rooted. That’s it in a pot. Not much to look at, I know. Yet. Anyone any thoughts on what it might be?