Yesterday while munching stale bread for lunch Jill and I watched a repeat of the final episode of a modern (2009) BBC version of The Day of the Triffids. It was a tale of woe where genetically engineered plants became intelligent, highly mobile and ruthless in order to hunt down humans and give them their just desserts; and then consume them just for dessert. There were naturally good humans and evil ones. The Triffids, which were underpaid grunting actors dressed in hessian costumes salvaged from the Dr Who reject wardrobe, didn’t like either. As is usual with BBC tele-dramas, the evil ones seemed to be getting the upper hand over the good ones in the greedy panic to survive, but a token-black actor with conflicting loyalties saved the day and night by betraying his evil white boss. It was all downhill for Mr Nasty after that, which was lucky for the director because the production budgeteers were running out of blank ammo and money. The good folk and the token turncoat eventually escaped to a new Triffid-free utopia on the Isle of Wight. Satisfyingly, the evil ones left behind experienced excruciatingly painful deaths before their flesh was dissolved from their bones by slimy Triffid enzymes. Cue end titles and reflect on the political correct nature of the modern version.
We don’t have any Triffids around here. Our tabby cat Mad Max would soon sort them out. But this week we did have a large huntswoman spider arrive. I’ve named her Diana. She lives inside one of the steps of our aluminium stepladder, just about where you’d place your hand to move it. She has a gleam in one of her eyes - you can see it shining in the photo. She’’ll need to be on the alert for honeyeaters - which happen to also be spider-eaters. Nothing is what is seems.
I bought Jill some un-Triffid-like flowers yesterday morning. They were the product of a potted lilium bulb for four bucks at the Stock Road markets. The grower sure knew how to raise nice, well behaved liliums. We’ve planted it straight into our garden with a stake to support the long stem and stop the plant roaming. With luck, when the flowers eventually finish their bloomin’ business the bulb will survive through summer and give us another pretty display next year.
© MMX Paul R. Weaver.
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