Titanarum

Titan Arum here. Or Corpse flower if you want to use the vernacular. The name came to me and who am I to argue? My claim to fame is a 3 metre high phallic bloom which stinks to high heaven of rotting meat, hence the reference to corpses. But hey, what’s in a name? What really matters is that we all have to live together. Show each other respect. Yeah?

The area I live in teems with creepy crawlies and wildlife and litter throwing people. On my doorstep is Richmond Park, London’s largest green area, as well as a small forest leading to Ham Common. My allotment is around the corner and, after 7 years, offers a reliable yield of seasonal fruit and vegetables. Allotments are all the rage these days, what with the planet going into meltdown and everybody wanting to eat antioxidants organically and be skinny and live forever and never wrinkle. I’m all for live and let live. Absolutely. But it goes both ways. The slug that ate my basil paid no heed to that philosophy. No wonder it fell victim to a turquoise pellet. I buy top of the range poison as they offer the most dignified death. Lured to the pellet by its perfume the slug eats it then retreats into a dark place to meet its maker. Perfect. Talk about the sweet smell of success.