My Aeschynanthus

The wind howls through the bathroom extractor fan's vent like a banshee. The fan is broken but the vent still vents. Today the rain is falling, clouds are oppressively low, and the drops are sliding down all the windows. Birds are still feeding in their packs; long-tailed tits, goldfinches, blackbirds, blue tits and robins of course. The sea-gulls have come inland, harbingers of storms. Helena says it is dreich. I said it feels like being at her Mum's house, beside the sea-going loch Etive, near Oban in Argyll. Helena said it is certainly like being there in summer, but then she always likes a joke.

Bomble is up exceedingly early this afternoon. He has been on the catnip toys (in this case a cloth mouse, which is now shredded and suckled) and behaving like a demented sheepdog, except he is a Bombay cat. I got a lovely shot of him asleep on Helena's legs last night, like a proper Panther taking a nap on a tree branch, with him taking a view from his occasionally open eyeball. Sadly it can't be blipped.

Instead, I have my Aeschynanthus to follow on in my flowering houseplant theme, which is allowing me to take the easy blip way out this week. It hangs from my curtain rail in my study room, and like yesterday's Purple Shamrock it enjoys the rising heat from the radiator. However that seems to make it thirsty, so I have to give it a prolonged drink. For that I use my bath water, being a good grey water recycler on these occasions. It also allows me to wash it, as it has a tendency to attract greenfly, even in mid-winter, which particularly attack the new flower pods, which I am pleased to say are springing up again in abundance. It seems to like flowering, which does make the views from my desk attractive even on dismal afternoons such as this. So here it is half-submerged with various bits of soil washed out from its pot and the occasional grey hair. Sorry, but c'est la vie!