And this is why we're all glad I don't own a kitten

As regular readers may recall, at some point in the last two years I appear to have developed a penchant for small cacti in Mexican-themed earthenware pots (newbies can catch up here and here).

Why this is I don't know. I do know that I like cacti, and I've had a bit of a thing about Mexico ever since I saw the Brad Pitt/Julia Roberts opus The Mexican (it's one of my favourite films). That being the case, I suppose my interest in small cacti in Mexican-themed earthenware pots is a bit of a given.

In my time at Sparky Towers I've owned four small cacti in Mexican-themed earthenware pots. Unfortunately, a tragic series of events means that number slipped to three, and an even more tragic series of events means it's actually currently standing at, um, about 2.5. I lay the blame for this totally at the feet of Homebase, who sell a broad range of small cacti in Mexican-themed earthenware pots; indeed, the reason I once owned four was because, like Pokemon, I decided that I 'gotta have 'em all.' 

Where were we?

Oh yes - Homebase. I've come to the conclusion, y'see, that Homebase stick the same instructions tag in every plant they sell. I've bought a spineless yukka, a dramatic green thingy for my bathroom, and the aforementioned small cacti in Mexican-themed earthenware pots, and they've all had the same care instructions. And while I'll openly admit I'm not Percy Thrower, I really don't think a metre high yukka and a small cactus that barely pokes two centimetres above the rim of its Mexican-themed earthenware pot have much in common when it comes to appropriate care. 

This I learned the hard way, because the instructions told me to "keep well watered during growing/flowering season. Keep moist during winter." And, as I discovered, those instruction apply more to me than to a small cactus.

The first sign that something was amiss came a few months back when one of my cacti went … how shall I say this … squishy. And by squishy I mean that it had the general consistency of a rubber stress toy and made a bit of a funny noise when I poked it – which I did often because a) it was gross and weird, and b) it was a funny. It stopped being funny, however, when the whole thing just deflated and dried out.

One down.

After that incident I took to watering my cacti a hell of a lot less, but once again it seems as if, rather than green fingers, I've got blood on my hands – my favourite small cactus in a Mexican-themed earthenware pot has started to go squishy. 

Needless to say, this has left me a little distraught, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And by 'desperate measures' I actually mean 'ever-so-slightly insane measures.' On Sunday night, y'see, I accidently pulled off one of the little spines on the surface of the cactus while I was prodding it with my finger. This left a hole in the surface. By scientifically poking the cactus further I discovered that it was indeed overly moist (stuff dribbled out the hole when I poked it), so I attempted to rectify this by rolling up bits of tissue paper and bunging them in the hole to soak up any excess liquid. 

Stage two of Operation: Save Cactus came to me in a flash on Monday evening. I was sitting watching Gilmore Girls (Lorelai's just had her opening weekend at the Dragonfly - I'm *so* excited for her) when I got to thinking about the environment in which cacti originate: hot, dry, arid landscapes. Hmmm … maybe if my ailing cactus was exposed to a hot, dry, arid landscape it'd lose its excess moisture and may be able to stage something of a recovery? But where would I find such an environment?

I fired up the oven.

Now before you get all prissy on me, I didn't cook the bastard. And I didn't put it in the microwave (just in case it went all mutated and bonkers). I merely warmed the oven to a medium heat, turned it off, popped the cactus in there, and left the door ajar a bit so the hot air would waft out like a desert wind. And do you know what? I'm a genius. Enough about me though - let's get back to the cactus. Post-oven adventure it actually seems to be doing OK - it certainly hasn't shriveled up and deflated as quickly as the last one did. I'm not getting my hopes up completely, though, and I do have a contingency plan if it does look to be failing on me: I could inflate it using my bicycle pump, or fill it with that expanding loft insulation foam stuff.

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And for anyone who accuses me of cruelty to cacti, at least I'm not forcing it to go scuba diving with me.