A few years ago, perhaps six or seven, we were given a bag of Cardiocrinum giganteum seed. We rubbed our hands together in glee and planned a forest of these statuesque lilies that reach a majestic 2m before flowering with trumpets the angels would be proud of. In true prima donna style they then keel over and die leaving behind a million potential offspring. Our seed germinated like cress and optimism reigned supreme. They were potted on and cooed over. My new outfit was planned for when the national press arrived to photograph the spectacle of these stupendous blooms. Then we planted some out in the garden. Overnight they disappeared. A chink in our master plan had appeared, it seems they are the Pied Piper of molluscs. So I started to hand them out to friends on the premise that even if we couldn’t succeed it would be nice know that one made it through to continue the sap line. One of these pressed upon friends was Malvern Maid who this week, and in an hour of need, revealed the glory that could have would have should have been. This is her photo of her adopted daughter. It really couldn’t have happened to a nicer person and it lifted my spirits to see how well she had done. We still have some pot bound and miserable specimens, I went straight out and planted them, where there is life there is hope.