This little cutie was clearly taking its first steps into the world of modelling. “Should I run and hide? Should I move in for the purr and rub? Or should I just pose?” Do the latter, that’s just fine.
I was going to post something about how the truly large cave spiders that once lived in our shed (see here, for instance) haven’t made an appearance for a while. Then this morning — the day after this picture was taken — a “spider the size of a Buick” (to quote Woody Allen) turned up in the bathtub. This one’s big enough however. And I needed those bottles to decant the plum wine….
An upcoming short trip to London aside, I am not going anywhere in the near future: it will be at least February before I go anywhere radically different (meaning, outside the UK). It’s one of those periods where I need to find inspiration near to home. These plants will do for today, however. I don’t know what these actually are but to me they look like little paper chilli lanterns, hence the title of the post. All available for viewing in a window box a few doors down from my place, anyway.
It’s not just plums…. The apples are doing well this year, as are the leeks, and is that even a couple of beetroot poking up from the soil? Sure is. None of this makes a big dent in the food bill but it’s still satisfying.
I am irresistibly reminded of a drag queen at Pride, or one of those amazing Brazilian samba women at the Notting Hill Carnival, posing for the camera in front of a line of stern grey coppers…. Happy Wednesday, little feller.
In all the fuss about the plums this year, we risk forgetting that these equally scrumptious beauties have also had a very fine summer. I just wish that come November, our supermarket shelves won’t be stuffed with the identical product, but shipped over from Guatemala.
We have reached an officially measured total of 21.2kg/46.6 pounds of harvested plums. This is the all-time record haul since it started bearing fruit about fourteen years ago (we forget exactly). I think the insects can have their fill now, I’m feeling plummed out.
How unexpected, I thought, as I saw this rose poking up, alone, from the undergrowth at the edge of the Memorial Garden. Then I saw it was not a rose. Plastic bag? A couple of bright red serviettes from one of the local eateries? To be honest I didn’t check. I took a photograph of it though.
A healthily-stocked larder, at least, if you are a spider. It’s like our plums — you keep them for later. Bridge no. 17 is the one at Black Pit Lock on the Rochdale Canal, in Hebden Bridge town centre.
I did follow England’s efforts in this morning’s World Cup Final, but I didn’t go watch it anywhere organised, I don’t like watching football on the TV whomever is playing. But they lost, so in lieu of pictures of any celebrations, here is an indication that August might finally be giving summer a go. I don’t know what these flowers are, sorry, but there are plenty of them blooming down by the market at the moment.
