Sad day at the hothouse.
Had to remove about half of all cactus material, after the intensively cold snap. The big stripy mama one seems to be hanging on (now 14 years old). Some of her offspring perished, along with a lot of prickly pear. I have souvenirs of these beasts in my hands; they have horrid little hairy spines that hang around long after the job has been done and surprise you by hiding in trouser turn ups or glove fingertips.
The Argave type merely lacerate your arms and gouge holes in your limbs, but I still love them. They were the first thing I remember about the house when we came to view it: Cuboid cream house with grey-green spiky guardians.
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