As you may have gathered from my comments on yesterday’s post, I was denied my slumber by an emergency phonecall.
Our K8 had gotten herself in a little bit of a pickle and wanted a bit of help from Daddy. And that’s what Daddies are for. Right? [unless of course it’s not an emergency, in which case – wrong!]
So I drove down and collected her and Puppychild and we went to collect Sean and we drove back to her place. We had a cup of tea [or two, or three].
I discovered a new facet to my daughter.
She has a lovely new collection of carnivorous plants!
She has a compost bin in the garden, and a plank laid across the bin. The plants sit in a row on the plank. The compost bin attracts its fair share of flies, so the plants are thriving. While we watched, the Venus Flytrap nicely caught yet another meal [it was already eating about five others]. The Pitcher Plant was nicely melting down a bluebottle and the sticky one was nicely coated in half digested flies.
We discussed the possibility of growing a hybrid. Maybe a Venus Flytrap crossed with a redwood tree. Just imagine – a three hundred foot carnivorous plant! Wow! We could plant them in groves around the airports and ferry terminals. They would thrive.
Or cross a Venus Flytrap with a rhododendron and let them grow wild around the Lakes of Killarney. They would have a feast.
We could disguise large Pitcher Plants as swimming pools in the touristy hotels…….
My daughter is weird.
I wonder where she gets it from?