This IS a Foxglove.

Or, at any rate it used to be.

At the start of the season I/we had about 4. For "we" read "I", the Gaffer was less than enarmored by them and 3 bit the dust ... sharpish. The soul surviver hung on for the benefit of the ''Bummlies'' who took great delight in whizzing up the tubes, packing their Jodhpurs with pollen and whizzing back to the nest. I'm sure they worked a 2 shift system.

Sundry other, more acceptable (domesticated), flowers snuck, all legal like, into the gaps.

A week, or three, ago: She who must be obeyed asked for it to be removed. I pleaded the case, on behalf of the Bummlies and won a grudging stay of execution.

In the interim the "weed" poppies, which have a habit of stowing away in garden centre pots, came on stream and I was ready for the great upheaval.

THEN came a string of irresistible Blips...This being the first of 3.
On each day I heard the mutter ''That's ANOTHER day with the Foxgloves''.

SO I promised that today would be the day, come hell or high water. No hell in sight, but there's high water in the Pidgin trough thanks to a deluge over night at the start of what some PRAT promised would be a heat wave.

I, totally, neglected to mention that while I was taking the shot I glanced up to see the Boss, wearing a broad grin and fisting the air.