The story of the geranium is now practically legend, but because I haven’t mentioned it for a while I thought I’d briefly re-cap.

Once upon a time, four years ago, a mysterious visitor named Annie The Wolf brought a tiny plant as a gift for Leftwing Idiot. The plant sat on a stool in his kitchen where it grew and grew. From the day it arrived it provoked many tics – swearing, accusations, teasing songs, spit and even vague praise.

After many years, hostilities between us calmed down enough for Leftwing Idiot to give me my own geranium – a cutting from the original plant. I in turn have passed on geraniums to lots of friends and family.

Earlier today Lottie sent me a photo of her and Will’s geranium, which is thriving.

This inspired me to get current photos from the many mini-geranium owners. It’s a geranium family tree!

I assured everyone that the photo request was for a blog post and was not in any sense a geranium care test. I will though be having to keep a closer eye on Fat Sister and King Russell’s geranium, as it does look as if they may be in need of remedial lessons in geranium husbandry.