They're ba-ack ...
There's something very alien about the gunnera plant, of which we have several large outbreaks (or invasions?) in our area. They look especially sinister when they begin to sprout out of the ruins of their last manifestation - this lot are in a strange sort of dumping ground for lost flora and old foliage round the back of Benmore Gardens.
Today seemed slightly short because we slept late and treated Saturday the way non-church involved people treat Sunday, when we're scampering to get out, clothed and clean and ready to rock ... I did manage to cook up some rhubarb, though I fear I may have over-sweetened it: we didn't in the end feel like eating any in the evening. Other than a little sweeping and cleaning, all I achieved in the morning was to read the Scotsman and get the bread out of the bread maker.
We had a peaceful walk along Loch Eck in the afternoon, which was when we passed these Triffids; by the time we were home again our neighbours were celebrating the Rangers win with random joyous (I think) shouts and - disconcertingly - the strains of a flute band. I am always thankful that most of the rooms chez nous are on the side of the house away from the common wall, though the study is another matter. They fair put me off my Italian lesson before dinner.
A last question for the knowledgable: what is the purpose of bales of straw* laid carefully in the ditches below an area of forest that's about to be harvested? Is it tied up to the fact that the loch into which they drain is our drinking water?