All plants are, at their core, floozies. Unless, of course, they are the sort of plant that only has sex with itself. Yep – surprisingly or otherwise, quite a big proportion of plants have sex with themselves and some can even turn it on or off dependent on whether or not there is anyone else handy to have sex with.

So, what do they do if they’re not having sex with themselves, they throw open their arms in a glorious array of colour and seduction and say “here I am, come and get me”. Sometimes, the offer only lasts for a day and for other plants it can go on for weeks. This is one of the former. Glorious blooms that come and go in a single day leaving nothing behind but a big, fat, shiny red womb that is full of babies. (A hip to you.)

You have to admire their ability to make things happen. Shame I can’t make anything happen for me at the moment – not that having sex with strangers is what I want to happen (no really, it’s not). For me it’s the supposedly more simple and sedate thing that is getting a job. Will I ever find gainful employment again? Has my chance of a career gone out with the recession…or my age…or Cornwall…or just because I am, as I suspect to be the case, good for nothing.