I am officially sulking.
This magnificence is not mine. It could have been mine, but this is the one of the two Amaryllis bulbs I bought at a garden centre which I gave away, as a Christmas gift, to my ex-neighbour.
Mine was – well, not like that. it had a flower spike, oh yes, but on a five-inch stem. The only possible explanation I can come up with – apart from black magic, curses and pique – is that my ex-neighbout grows his in an exceptionally warm conservatory (average January temperature, sans heating, of over 80 degrees), whereas mine has to survive in my kitchen (average January temperature, er, not over 80 degrees). But I’m still sulking.
That may stop, though, because mine (like his) is throwing up another flower spike. We shall see. But I do maintain that this is an excellent argument for buying a specialist bulb and potting it up yourself rather than relying on Aldi. Maybe…and next year I shall see if I can get him to nursemaid mine for a bit. At least until the Spring Show. That’s not cheating, is it?