Last week myself and Max’s Dad were talking about alstroemeria. We were standing in front of a pathetic specimen poking its weedy head through the wisteria skirts. Although I can’t remember the conversation in full it went something like this:
Me: Don’t really get alstroemeria, I’ve never really warmed to them.
Him: Nor me.
Me: I can see they have exotic blooms, are reliable performers and if they were good enough for the Incas they should be good enough for me. It is a complete mystery why they have zero appeal.
Him: And me.
Me: Shall we dig them up?
This week I arrived and MD had been shopping. Amongst his haul was this Alstroemeria “Indian Summer”. For lunch I ate my words.