My question was directed at Harry Rhodes, my junior-school teacher, who was passionate about both groups of plants and who would raise them in the little greenhouse in his back garden to sell at the church bazaar in the 1950s. They were all the same price: sixpence a pot.
By growing a range in pots, we can bring the world to our doorstep
His reply was swift and concise: ‘Well, all cacti are succulents, but not all succulents are cacti.’ He must have noticed my furrowed brow. ‘The succulents that have spines we call cacti; the ones without we just call… succulents.’
The matter was settled—and so was my fondness for a group of plants that began then, at the age of nine, with a single potted specimen bought from Mr Rhodes. Its label (a scrubbed and neatly inscribed lollipop stick) bore the legend Bryophyllum pinnatum. It was a liver-spotted succulent with tiny little plantlets along the edges of its leaves. Brilliant!
For half my weekly pocket money (a shilling) I had 30 or 40 plants rather than one, as the tiny plantlets rooted with ease in other pots of sandy compost. Within a month, I could have had my own plant stall at the church bazaar. Since then, my gratitude to Mr Rhodes has never faded.
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Don't rain on Venus's parade
TENNIS has never been sexierâat least, that is what multiple critics of the new film Challengers are saying.
A rural reason to cheer
THERE was something particularly special for country people when one of the prestigious Kingâs Awards for Voluntary Service was presented last week.
My heart is in the Highlands
A LISTAIR MOFFATâS many books on Scottish history are distinctive for the way he weaves poetry and literature, language and personal experience into broad-sweeping studies of particular regions or themes. In his latestâ and among his most ambitious in scopeâhe juxtaposes a passage from MacMhaighstir Alasdairâs great sea poem Birlinn Chlann Raghnaill with his own account of filming a replica birlinn (Hebridean galley) as it glides into the Sound of Mull, âlarch strakes swept up to a high prowâ, saffron sail billowing, water sparkling as its oars dip and splash. Familiar from medieval tomb carvings, the birlinn is a potent symbol of the power of the Lords of the Isles.
Put it in print
Three sales furnished with the ever-rarer paper catalogues featured intriguing lots, including a North Carolina map by John Ogilby and a wine glass gibbeting Admiral Byng, the unfortunate scapegoat for the British loss of Minorca
The rake's progress
Good looks, a flair for the theatrical and an excellent marriage made John Astleyâs fortune, but also swayed âle Titien Angloisâ away from painting into a dissolute life of wine and women, with some collecting on the side
Charter me this
Thereâs a whole world out there waiting to be explored and one of the most exciting ways to see it is from the water, says Emma Love, who rounds up the best boat charters
Hey ho, hey ho, it's off to sow we go
JUNE can be a tricky month for the gardener.
Floreat Etona
The link with the school and horticulture goes back to its royal founder, finds George Plumptre on a visit to the recently restored gardens
All in good time
Two decades in the planning, The Emory, designed by Sir Richard Rogers, is open. Think of it as a sieve that retains the best of contemporary hotel-keeping and lets the empty banality flow away
Come on down, the water's fine
Ratty might have preferred a picnic, but canalside fine dining is proving the key to success for new restaurant openings in east London today, finds Gilly Hopper