A little over a year ago on a visit back home I took three cuttings from the Christmas cactus that was my mother’s. Actually the roots go back much further: the plant originally belonged to her grandmother, Dommy, and is probably older than I am. For a year the cuttings have flourished on sun and neglect in our kitchen nook. Last week a single flower bud appeared on each of two of them. One is visible here. Hopefully the descendants will carry on their progenitor’s habit of blooming faithfully every year for decades.