Life Among the Leaves

Tales from the Cryptanthus

2011-08-17T21:10:00.005-05:00

Well, more like tales of the Cryptanthus, because while I may be a Crazy Plant Lady, I am not under the impression that plants talk to me. (Nor do I talk to them; if they want extra carbon dioxide, they can get it themselves.)

Anyway, I find the Earth Stars to be cool plants, so I've accumulated a few more this summer. I believe that these are all varieties of Cryptanthus bivittatus:

Cryptanthus bivittatus 'Ruby'

Cryptanthus bivittatus 'Pink Starlite,' I think

NoId Cryptanthus bivittatus varieties

All of the above were purchased at Home Depot, where I also saw what has got to be the worst example of plant marketing I've ever seen. Plant hucksters have been gluing strawflowers on cactus for years. Recently, they've been dyeing Phalaenopsis orchids blue. And now, they are giving us painted Cryptanthus:

Cryptanthus varieties defiled with pink and red enamel. These photos were taken surreptitiously in the store with my cellphone, (try saying that 5 times fast) hence the blurriness. These were in dish gardens, and in the one with the red paint, there is a naturally pink Crypt on the left.

This is ridiculous. I doubt the leaves will stay healthy with that stuff on them. Also, the painting was quite slapdash, and the result was ugly and totally unnatural-looking. It looked like a toddler had run amok with Mommy's nail polish.

But there are cute and clever things one can do with Crypts, as seen here in a couple of pics I took at the Chicago Botanic Gardens last week:

Flamingo topiaries in the Sub-tropical Greenhouse

Closer view of one of the flamingos, showing how densely the Cryptanthus are planted

I'm not usually a topiary fan, but I found these to be fun and fabulous uses of both form and color. Not something I'd try myself (where would I get enough crypts, let alone enough patience?) but definitely something that I can appreciate and enjoy sharing.

I Put A Smell On You

2011-07-12T17:30:00.006-05:00

This past March, I bought a few bulbs at the Chicago Flower Show. Somehow, I managed to forget that I had done so. Then one morning in early April, I came down into my kitchen, and smelled a pronounced odor. I couldn't quite place it. It didn't smell like any sort of rotten food, nor did it smell like my cats had used something other than their litterboxes to relieve themselves. But it was pervasive, and it was a stench. I finally traced the aroma to a plastic shopping bag tucked away in the corner, where I found this:

Sauromatum venosum, aka Voodoo Lily. When I put it on the floor to photograph, Peppermint the cat came over to investigate. He took one sniff, and did a giant backward leap, his spine arched and his tail fluffed out in alarm.

Two closer looks at the inflorescence. That long dark spadix is normally straight, however being cramped in a small plastic bag for a few weeks caused it to twist. It looks serpentine and sinister, as something called Voodoo Lily should.

As intriguing as it looks, something that smells so bad that it discomfits the ever-intrepid Peppermint cannot stay indoors. Even a Crazy Plant Lady has limits. I potted it up and put it outside in the garage, since it was too early in the spring to put it outdoors. Though sources vary on how hardy it is, the far northwestern Chicago suburbs are definitely not in its range. The odor ceased after a day or so, and the flower began to fade. Later that month, I put it out on the porch.

The bulb, with the flower stalk in the center and three nascent leaf stalks around the perimeter

This is what the plant looks like today:

I love the tropical looks of the leafed out Sauromatum...

...And I especially love the spotted petioles. (The dried husk hanging down on the left side of the pot in the top picture is the remains of the inflorescence.)

My plans are to enjoy the plant outdoors on my porch for the summer and then decide what to do with it in the fall. Oh, and the other bulbs I bought and forgot about were Liatris spicata for my outdoor garden beds. They were planted out later, and are doing fine.

Entertaining Royalty in My Garden

2011-07-09T13:37:00.010-05:00

No, not the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. I wouldn't begin to know what to serve them. I do know what pleases this visitor, however:

Monarch butterfly caterpillar (Danaus plexippus) enjoying a milkweed plant (Asclepias syriaca) in my front yard garden. (As always, click for a more detailed view.)

I've been allowing common milkweed volunteers to grow in my garden for eight years, hoping to encourage Monarchs to reproduce here. This is first year they've ever produced flowers, and the first year I've seen a caterpillar, even though we do get a fair number of Monarch butterflies.

Front Garden. The tall plants in the rear, just to the left of the hanging basket, are the Milkweeds. The orange flowers in front are Asclepias tuberosa, (butterfly weed) which also attracts Monarchs.

Closer view of Asclepias tuberosa, Gaillardia, and Rudbeckia hirta

Here are some other pictures from my front yard gardens this summer:

The two-year old bed at the foot of the right side of our driveway really came into its own this year. The gray plants are Artemesia stelleriana 'Silver Brocade,' the purple spikes are Salvia nemorosa 'East Friesland' and Salvia x sylvestris "May Night."

This is the more mature garden to the left of the driveway at the sidewalk, filled with Salvia, Sedum, Sempervivum, Gaillardia and Juniperus, not to mention the Clematis-covered trellises.

Hemerocallis NoId (I thought it might be 'Chicago Fire' or 'Chicago Apache', but it doesn't quite match the pictures of either of those that I can find online.)

Echinacea 'Sundown'

The new backyard garden I planted last year has really taken off, and I will be featuring it in an upcoming post.

Garfield Park Conservatory Severely Damaged by Hail

2011-07-06T12:05:00.003-05:00

I was incredibly saddened to learn that the beautiful Garfield Park Conservatory was hit by a devastating hailstorm last week. Among the most severely damaged areas was the exquisite Fern Room that I featured earlier. The story can be read here at the Chicago Tribune site.

I still have dozens of photographs from my visit there in May that I want to share. The pictures in this post, with a couple of exceptions, are from the Palm House and Aroid House, which due to previous renovations, were among the least damaged areas.

Entrance to the Palm House, with the Fern Room (triangular roof) in the distance

Strelitizia, Bromeliads, and Crinum jagua (aka Spider Lilies) overlook the reflection pond near the entrance. This is the square pond seen in the picture above.

The Palm House landscape includes tropical and subtropical foliage in contrasting shades, as well as blooming plants.

Another view, emphasizing the height of this part of the Conservatory

Three views of the giant Scheelea Palm, from the top down, and the sign detailing its history

Lipstick Palm, Cyrtostachys renda, surrounded by a Fittonia groundcover

The highlight of the Aroid House is the koi pond, which includes glass sculptures by Dale Chihuly

Philodendron 'Xanadu,' which can be a problematic houseplant, thrives in conservatory conditions in the Aroid House.

This large Monstera deliciosa was located not in the Aroid House, but in the Fern Room.

Time will tell what will become of the beautiful Fern Room, and the plants it contains. I am so happy that I got to see the Conservatory again after all those years, and so disheartened at what has happened. I hope that it can be restored to enchant visitors with its beauty and history. According a follow-up story at the Tribune, some areas have already been reopened to the public.

New Indoor-Outdoor Plants

2011-06-07T13:24:00.010-05:00

Last week, I was at one of my local nurseries looking for annuals and perennials for my outdoor garden. Even back when I was living in an apartment, and had no outdoor space, I always looked at the summer annuals and tropicals. Among the plants marketed as annuals for "creative" containers, there were always several plants that can make good-to-decent houseplants. Common examples were Asparagus sprengeri and A. meyeri, Begonia 'Dragon Wing,' Hedera helix, Strobilanthes dyeranus, (Persian Shield) and Solenostemon (Coleus.) Now, even though I do plenty of outdoor gardening, I always look to the annuals with houseplants in mind.

This year, I came across a couple of plants I really like, so I snapped them up. About ten to twelve years ago, I tried several times to grow Murraya paniculata. The available plants were "starter" specimens, in three- to five-inch pots. I never succeeded with them for more than a couple of months, so sadly, I decided not to buy them anymore. Then after reading the plant profile a few years ago at Plants are the Strangest People, I decided that I would try one again, if and only if I could get a reasonably well-established plant in a larger pot. But they became unavailable for quite some time, due to, as I understand it, a quarantine caused by a citrus disease. So I was surprised and happy to find this at my local nursery:

Well-branched Murraya paniculata, ready to be potted up from its 7-inch nursery pot

I also treated myself to a Plumbago auriculata. I had originally purchased one in 2003, and kept it for at least five more years, putting it out in summer, and overwintering it in a cool room. After that, it kind of petered out, since P. auriculata really needs both cool temps and lots of sun over the winter. I can only provide one or the other, so the plant loses vigor. I figure five years is a good run for a plant most people buy as an annual and discard, and I love those blue flowers. I hope this one lasts as long.

Plumbago auriculata, whole plant

Closer view of those fabulous sky-blue flowers.

My plan is to let both of these plants spend the summer outdoors, the Murraya on the porch, and the Plumbago in a container in the garden, maybe temporarily planted with some annuals. (My last P. auriculata looked really pretty in a pot with a pastel pink Pelargonium, though it did seem somewhat like a baby shower theme planting. Maybe I'll try something yellow, instead.) I figure spending sometime in the fresh air and sunshine will increase their vigor, and I'll be able to have them more or less permanently (the Murraya) and for a few good years (the Plumbago.)

Garfield Park Conservatory Part 1: The Fabulous Fern Room

2011-05-20T11:28:00.009-05:00

On Saturday May 11, my husband and I visited the Garfield Park Conservatory in Chicago for the first time in about 6 years. I had forgotten how large and how stunning the place truly is. It was constructed between 1906 and 1908, and is on the National Register of Historic Places.

The Fern Room is especially beautiful, and, I think, worthy of a post all its own. Here are just a few of the pictures I took.

The entrance of the Fern Room, which also houses a variety of cycads, fern allies such as Selaginella, mosses, and a few tropical flowering plants, such as Monstera deliciosa, for variety. Edited to add: Since this post was published, I replaced this photo with a larger version, which looks particularly detailed when clicked.

Plaque visible upon exiting the room

A view of the room from another vantage point, showing the indoor lagoon that forms the center of the display.

Asplenium nidus, in a bed of Selaginella

A cycad, Dioon spinulosum

Another Dioon spinulosum, showing new growth spouting from the "trunk"

Ferns and Cycads around a bench, with duct work in the background. Part of the beauty of the conservatory in general is the age of the structure, and the fact that the workings, are for the most part out in the open and unobscured.

Closer view of the area above the bench

Platycerium (Staghorn ferns) with other Ferns and mosses in the foreground

Showing off the epiphytic nature of Platycerium on a Fern "tree." I've seen this done before with Bromeliads and Orchids, but never with Ferns.

Cycad, with cone. I believe this is another Dioon, but I forgot to note the label, so I'm not positive.

Young Pteris and Adiantum ferns, emerging from looks like moss, but which are actually gametophytes, the life stage that comes between spores and mature ferns.

Edited to Add: There is some actual moss in the picture, along with the gametophytes.

Your blogger, Karen715, standing near the entrance to the Fern Room

View of the Asplenium which was behind my head in the previous photo. I was amazed at the small size of the container in comparison to the plant.

Part 2 will cover the rest of our trip to the Conservatory.

Easy Grows the Head that Wears the Crown

2011-05-07T11:13:00.004-05:00

In a post from last year, about a visit to the Chicago Botanic Gardens, I shared a picture of a group of Fritillaria imperialis, also known as Crown Imperials, or Fritillaries. I mentioned in that post that I had never seen them growing in a home garden, but that I would like to try them in mine.

Well I did. I purchased three of the rather expensive bulbs last fall and planted them, and here is the result:

Fritillaria imperialis in my backyard garden

This garden is a raised bed, with heavily amended, well-draining soil. It is my understanding that Fritillaria will fail if heavy soil allows water to remain pooled at the top of the bulbs for any length of time. The soil in the rest of my yard is heavy black clay, except for the random pockets of rocky, gritty, builder's fill that I come across when I least expect it. So even though I'd love to have them elsewhere, I decided that the backyard bed would be the best place for them. Even so, I'd heard tales of Crown Imperials being difficult to grow, so I wouldn't have been surprised if they hadn't turned up this spring.

Shot of a single plant. I was a bit worried that the tall stems might snap in some of the strong winds we've had this season, but the plants took those gales in stride.

One of the questions that came up about Fritillaria imperialis in the blog comments last spring was about the odor. I knew that the bulbs had a strong scent, sort of like musky garlic. But when admiring the plants at the CBG, I hadn't noticed any smell. Now that I have some, I know better. On cool gray days (and boy, have we had a lot of those here in Chicagoland this spring) you have to stand pretty close to get a hint of that garlicky smell. But if it is warm and sunny, the odor can be quite strong, and travels a fair distance.

Closer view of the pendant flowers, with their crown of leaves

I find the plants so striking that I don't mind the smell at all. In fact, I was thinking of planting a few more next fall. I was considering a getting a couple of the yellow-flowering Fritillaria for a nice contrast, but more of orange would also be nice. Love those orange flowers. And I understand that the bulbs will multiply, so I may get more even if I don't plant additional ones.

In case anyone wondered what the inside of those downward-facing flowers looked like. This looks pretty neat if clicked for a larger image.

I do understand that a successful first year with a plant doesn't necessarily mean that it is easy to grow. I've had more than my share of beginner's luck in the garden (and with my houseplants.) But since I've also had my share of beginner's failures, including bulbs that fail to come up at all, I'm taking this show of blooms as a positive sign for the future.

The Gift With Something Extra

2011-05-03T20:01:00.006-05:00

Monday, May 2 was my eighth wedding anniversary. My darling husband Bob surprised me with two bouquets of flowers. One was a dozen yellow roses, the other was a lovely mixed arrangement.

Today, when I was about to change the water in the mixed bouquet, I noticed something. Included as foliage accents in the arrangement were two stems of Codiaeum variegatum, aka, Croton. These were not the one of the broadleaf multicolored cultivars, but rather, a narrow-leaved, yellow-spotted type. One of the stems was looking a trifle worse for wear, but the other was very healthy and vigorous.

Mixed bouquet. One of the Codiaeum stems is on the left in this photo.

Close-up of the Codiaeum cutting, still in the vase

Of course, me being the crazy plant lady, I had to take advantage of this. I removed the stem from the bouquet, re-cut the end, and stripped off a few of the bottom leaves. I then dipped the stem in rooting hormone, and placed it in a pot of moist vermiculite to root.

Codiaeum stem in vermiculite. The lovely little pot is an early Mother's Day gift from my stepson, Dave.

Now we will see. I haven't had much luck in the past with rooting Codiaeum cuttings, nor have I had particularly good luck growing Codiaeum plants (spider mites love them.) But if I succeed, it will be a lovely remembrance of this anniversary. Since I know he will read this: Thanks, Honey, for eight wonderful years!

When the Growth Stopped

2011-04-27T15:39:00.002-05:00

As I've mentioned before, I picked "growing along with my houseplants" as the subtitle of this blog for a reason. I've had houseplants since I was quite young. Growing and caring for them has been one of the few constants in my life--one of my greatest joys--as I've gone from child, to teenager, to adulthood and on to middle age. One of the other constants in my life, unfortunately, has been a tendency toward depression. I've always come through, though, and my plants have always come with me. I've had many plants during some of those times, and very few in others, but I always enjoyed caring for however many I've had. They always provided a bit of green joy amongst the blue shades of sorrow.

But after I recuperated from my lingering cold this winter, I realized that although I was better physically, I was not in a good state mentally. And for the first time in my life, the classic depression symptom, "loses interest in things one usually enjoys" affected my relationship with my plants. Instead of sustaining me through the tough emotional times, tending to the houseplants began to feel like an insurmountable chore, one that I thoroughly resented. I suffered, and the plants suffered. I lost some to insect problems, and at least a few, I am ashamed to say, to neglect. Some of my others, though still alive, are definitely not looking their best.

But I am slowly getting better, and I hope the plants will too.

My new Easter cactus, Rhipsalidopsis gaertneri aka Hatiora gaertneri, purchased on Monday. For the first time in a while, I am actually looking forward to taking care of not just my old plants, but new plants as well.

I am also looking forward to getting back to blogging on a more regular basis. I know I said that after I recovered from my cold, and I meant it. I mean it this time too, and I hope things will work out better. I am making a personal commitment to posting at least once a week, and I hope it will work out to being much more frequent than that.

2011 Chicago Flower and Garden Show Part 2--The Expected and the Unexpected

2011-03-23T17:46:00.010-05:00

One of the things I expect, and enjoy, at the Chicago Flower and Garden Show is the use of tropical plants in landscape settings. This is something that can be done here in Chicagoland, I suppose, if you don't care if the plants die come the first frost, or if you are willing to dig them up to overwinter indoors. But the exhibitors do it to make a for a colorful and visually appealing show. Here are some of my favorite examples from this year:

Three views of the Meditation Garden, which included rows of braided Pachira aquatica with a Buddha sculpture at the far end. I also loved the rows of tall planted urns.

Display using Guzmania, Neoregelia, Asparagus, and Echeveria in a landscape with a bridge. This also something that could be done indoors, I suppose, if you have a conservatory.

Philodendron, Chlorophytum, and Hypoestes

Urns with Sansevieria, Calathea, Alocasia, Cordyline, and other tropical plants

Begonia

Anthurium and Guzmania among the pines

Okay, those were expected. Here is what I don't expect to see at the show:

Chickens! I know urban farming and chicken-keeping are all the rage, but I don't think I've ever seen livestock at the garden show before.

Koi (not totally unexpected in an exhibit promoting water features, I suppose) and a Turtle, which I found enchanting. I'm kind of weird that way. I always notice the plants at the zoo, and the animals at botanic gardens and garden shows.

Garden sculpture is not unexpected at a garden show, but I found this exhibit more captivating than many such displays that I've seen:

Bird Sculptures (but no chickens) in the exhibit called Silent Poetry: The Confluence of Stone and Plants, which also included the Anthurium pictured above.

Overall, I find it interesting that the three of the exhibits I enjoyed the most (the vertical gardens from the last post, the meditation garden, and the sculpture garden above) had nothing to do with the sports theme.

2011 Chicago Flower and Garden Show Part 1--First Impressions and Particular Favorites

2011-03-17T20:35:00.002-05:00

I always manage to have a good time at the annual Flower and Garden Show, even if it doesn't always live up to my expectations. I had found last year's show a major improvement over 2009, and I had hopes that the trend would continue this year.

When I entered the show last Friday, and realized that the theme was "The Sport of Gardening," I was a bit concerned. I'm not at all into sports, and I thought it was a bit of a stretch to extend sports metaphors to plants, flowers and gardening techniques. So I pretty much ignored the theme, and just enjoyed the show for what it was.

I did think this was kind of cute, though:

Croquet display complete with giant mallets and balls of white Phalaenopsis orchids, from the Illinois Orchid Society

I've noticed that every year, there is some kind of vertical gardening display, and I always respond to those in a strongly positive way. I posted a photograph of a vertical garden done by the Arthritis Foundation in one of my garden show posts last year, and this year, I probably took more pictures of the "Growing Vertical" exhibit, designed by Growing Power Inc., than of anything else in the show. For one thing, vertical displays tend to have a cool urban gardening vibe to them, which makes them a great fit for Chicago. For another, the exhibitors tend to make good use of tropical houseplants or succulents in them. I live way out in the sprawling suburbs, so space-saving techniques aren't a necessity for me. But I am a city girl at heart and there is something about a small, efficient and unexpected garden that thrills me, and of course, I am houseplant lover first and foremost.

One of several ladder-shaped vertical gardens, set in a field that included orange flowered Kalachoe blossfeldiana mixed inwith conventional outdoor plants.

More vertical plantings, which included Epipremnum, Calathea, Scindapsis, Hoya, and various ferns.

One thing I was particularly happy about this year was that the Horticultural Competition seems to be making a strong comeback. It had returned last year with a few entries after not being held the previous two, if I recall correctly. Displaying plants by grown by local plant enthusiasts and gardening societies makes the show rise above being a mere commercial venue for gardening services. In fact, in keeping with the theme, it makes the show more than just a spectator sport.

Above: Two of the competition tables.

An entrant in the miniature garden category, which includes a miniature baseball diamond.

Two of the entrants in the Design-a-Window Box Competition

Part 2 of 2011 Chicago Flower and Garden Show will be coming soon. Expect the unexpected!

New Plants: From the Chicago Flower and Garden Show

2011-03-14T16:20:00.005-05:00

Last Friday, my husband and I made our traditional trip to see the Chicago Flower and Garden Show. I will be posting about my overall impressions of the show, and a couple of features I particularly enjoyed, in the next couple of days. In the meanwhile, here are the plants I purchased at the show.

From the top left, according to their accompanying tags: Monadenium aff. schubei; Aloe harlanii; Crassula 'Buddha's Temple;' and front and center, Dyckia 'Burgundy Ice.'

A closer look at Monadenium aff. schubei. I love the color. This is my first plant of this genus, and I'm looking forward to learning how to grow it.

This plant was labeled Aloe harlanii. I am more familiar with the name Aloe harlana, and even more familiar with the idea that plants sold as such are usually Aloe hemmingii. It's a pretty plant though.

Crassula hybrid. This 'Buddha's Temple' is quite different from the 'Buddha's Temple' I purchased at the show last year (from the same seller), as can be seen in the shot below:
Two Crassula, old on the left, new to the right

Dyckia 'Burgundy Ice,' a very nice succulent Bromeliad.

The plants are all from Ted's Greenhouse in Tinley Park, IL, which always has a nice, and busy, booth at the Garden Show.

A Vicarious Trip Home

2011-03-08T14:32:00.007-06:00

One of the things I miss most about living in New York is visiting the New York Botanical Gardens. I used to hop on the train at least twice a month, every month, to visit what I considered to be my special place.

One of my last visits before I moved to Illinois was to the NYBG's annual orchid show, in March of 2003. And even though my camera was of a far lower quality than the one I use now, and the photos are low resolution, the pictures I took at that show remain some of my favorites:

Epiphytic orchids (Dendrobiums and Oncidiums, I think) displayed in the branches of a live Ficus benjamina. I love this display technique, and often wonder if it would be possible to grow them in the home that way.

Miniature Oncidium hybrids

The tag for the yellow flowering plant reads Epidendrum ballerina 'Tropica'

Phalaenopsis varieties interplanted with Philodendron 'Autumn'

Not orchids, (though you can see some Phalaenopsis leaves to the bottom right) but I was really drawn to this stunning cluster of Tillandsia ionantha. I didn't know it, but I was a budding Bromeliadmaniac even then.

This year's Orchid Show started last Saturday, and I'm sorry I won't be there to see it. But I was very happy to see this preview video on YouTube.

It was almost like going home, even for just a minute.

Blooming Sans--I Won't Miss It This Time

2011-03-03T11:18:00.005-06:00

The last time I wrote about one of my Sansevieria, it was because my Sansevieria francisii had flowered without my knowing it, and all I had left as evidence was a spent flower stalk and two seed pods.

My Sanseveria hargesiana also flowered earlier this year, and I missed that as well. It is not that I'm unobservant; I just have a few succulent plants tucked in out-of-the-way places. I don't check on them daily, or even weekly, since they don't need water all that often. It isn't the best cultural practice, but that's what happens sometimes when you're a crazy plant lady. A sane person would know that if you can't check on them easily, you probably have too many. Ah well, sanity is not all it is cracked up to be.

But I'm not going to miss the show this time. Look at what I spotted on my S. hargesiana earlier this week:

Sansevieria hargesiana flower stalk. The buds are not yet open, but they are getting close.

Picture of the whole plant, for reference. The leaves are a bit elongated, due to some time spent previously in a low light situation.

It has been months since I've been able to get a good picture of my cats with any of my plants. But when I put this plant on the floor in the hallway, so that I could photograph it, both of my little monsters had to check it out.

Luke checks the integrity of my potting mix (commercial mix amended with perlite and turface)...

while Peppermint checks to see if the planter is terra cotta or plastic. (It's terra cotta)

Having the cats in the pictures also gives a good idea of the size of this plant, which I've had for ten years or so. It's a big one.

Well, Thank Goodness That's Over!

2011-03-01T13:04:00.009-06:00

And by "that" I mean February 2011. I don't know why February was chosen to be the one with 28 days, (yes, I know I can look it up, and I will) but I sure do appreciate it. I don't think I could stand two or three more days of such a horrible month. I've written before, at length, about how much I hate winter weather, and this February was a doozy in that respect. This year was Chicago's snowiest February ever. And that doesn't cover the sleet, freezing rain, and other nastiness. But I've come to take that sort of thing in stride. After all, as long as I've got my health...

Yeah, right. The day after I made my last post here on February 7, I came down with what I thought would be a minor cold. I was feeling somewhat rundown on Thursday, and was sick enough to take it a little bit easy on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. But I rallied enough on Monday the 14th to have a nice Valentine's Day dinner out with my husband. I still had some symptoms, but felt well enough for the next two days. Then that Thursday, a feeling of fatigue hit me like a freight train, followed by what was to become the worst cold I've had in my adult life. I was sick in bed for the rest of the month. I've had the flu in the past, and even that wasn't as bad. Today, I'm still not 100%, but I feel confident that the worst is over.

Things got a bit neglected here among the leaves. Some plants went a bit too long between waterings. The whitefly infestation hit my four hibiscus plants again, badly enough that I've decided not to play around. They are gone, and I'll do my best to replace them this spring and summer. As far as some of my other plants are concerned, I have a bit of damage control ahead of me.

I did get something done before all this hit. In addition to making the new terrarium, and renovating the old ones, I managed to get one of my favorite plants, my 11 year old Zamioculcas zamiifolia, into a new spot, where I could see it and appreciate it more:

Zamioculcas zamiifolia up on a pedestal. In its previous location, it was the victim of naughty kitty Luke, who was trying to get outside by opening the window the ZZ was near. The result is claw holes on several leaflets.

I moved the Monstera deliciosa, which used to be displayed in that spot, to a new location upstairs. I've been having a little trouble with it, and may write about that in future posts, but I expect it to come out fine with a little TLC. It had better. I grew it from a seed and there are few plants in my collection that are dearer to my heart.

In closing this little tale of woe, I want to say that I missed writing for this blog, I'm happy to be back, and here's to a more prolific March.

Terrarium Renovations

2011-02-07T20:00:00.010-06:00

I enjoy growing plants in terrariums, even though I have found that maintaining a nice-looking terrarium isn't as easy as it might seem. Just before Christmas, I replaced a scraggly-looking fern I had growing in a vase terrarium with a brand new one.

The then-new fern can be seen here, in the tall vase on the right. (The "lid" is actually a glass saucer.) I don't have a positive ID, but I believe that the fern is a Nephrolepsis.

During the holidays, when my terrarium grouping was moved to accommodate our Christmas tree, the fern started to decline, and by late January, it had turned completely black. When I removed the dead plant, I found the soil to be excessively wet, and I realized that I had watered this terrarium a little too well when I replanted. So after emptying out the soggy soil, and cleaning the vase thoroughly, I set out to find a replacement plant. I went to my usual nurseries and local box stores, and none of them had any suitably-sized ferns for sale. So I went with something a little different.

Same terrarium with newly-planted Stromanthe sanguinea 'TrioStar'

When I decided to post a picture of my new plant, I realized I had missed an opportunity. I could have made things more interesting by showing some of the process of planting the terrarium. So this week, when I decided to give a crowded Asplenium nidus some more growing room, I also decided to take some pictures of what went into assembling its new home.

Previously posted pictures of Asplenium nidus outgrowing its glass cookie jar. Normally I keep the lid on, which has caused some damage to the fronds.

I started with a brand new 10 gallon aquarium:

The first thing I did was add a layer of gravel. This is also a good time to add some charcoal to keep the soil fresh. I didn't, since I forgot to buy some. Oops. I don't think it will make much difference in the long run.

For step 2, I added a layer of potting mix, which I forgot to photograph. This is just as well, as it was definitely a "do as I say, not as I do" moment. The mix I used was quite dry. Using a moistened medium is generally better, as it is easier to work with.

As for the plants:

The somewhat battered Asplenium, removed from the jar.

A scraggly old Selaginella (I think) which was sharing the jar with the Asplenium

A brand new Selaginella, purchased to round things out.

Dried moss purchased from the same pet store as the aquarium. This is actual living moss, meant for terrarium use, which will be rejuvenated when introduced to a moist environment.

Preserved moss from the craft store. This is not a live product, but it adds visual interest, holds up for some time, and can be easily replaced when it starts to deteriorate.

Top view of the planted terrarium.

Side view. I use mineral specimens and river rocks to add interest to all my terrariums and dish gardens. I used amethyst (purple) and sodalite (blue) in this one.

The completed terrarium, watered and in place. The plastic cling rap is only temporary, just to raise the humidity a bit. I have asked my husband to make a permanent lid of leaded glass for me.

But wait! There's more! I couldn't very well leave the cookie jar empty. As it happened, one of the nurseries did have some smaller ferns available today, so I purchased this one. I haven't a clue as to its identity.

New NoId fern

Replanted jar with another small Stromanthe sanguinea 'TrioStar', the new fern, and the mosses.

I now have a total of six terrariums around the house. I also have an empty one gallon aquarium available, so I expect the number will increase to seven some time in the future.

In Praise of Echeverias--First Time Bloomer

2011-01-27T15:20:00.002-06:00

I worry a bit about my succulents all winter long. I tend to think of most of them as tender container plants that must spend the winter indoors, rather than as houseplants. (Sansevieria, Crassula ovata, and Euphorbia are the notable exceptions. As long as they aren't in the dark, those plants really do seem just as happy indoors as they do outside.)

Echeveria can be especially problematic. Some of them get quite leggy, even with the best indoor light. So I especially prize those that don't.

Here is my Echeveria chihuahuaensis, in a picture from last September:

Echeveria chihuahuaensis (I believe) nicely colored up from the sun

The same plant, a few days ago. (The excessively blue tint of the photo is the result of the nearby fluorescent lights.)

The tips of the plant aren't as red as they were in the sun, but the plant is staying nice and compact. And it is getting ready to bloom. There are three stalks: The well-developed one on the left, the smaller, reddish one on the right, and a tiny one near the center that can be seen if the picture is opened full-size. (It is in front of the leaf that is near the largest bloom stalk.) I've heard that the more ordinary Echeveria species (as opposed to some of the fancier hybrids and cultivars) are less likely to get leggy in home conditions. I have no idea if this is true across the board, but I've noticed that like E. chihuahuaensis, Echeveria pulidonis, Echeveria purpurea, and Echeveria lilacina seem to stay compact during the winter.

Sansevieria Surprises

2011-01-21T18:11:00.008-06:00

Sometime between last fall and now, my Sansevieria francisii flowered, and I missed it. This was probably because it was on a crowded table, hidden behind some other plants. I also missed watering it for a while, so it is also looking a little dehydrated. I do expect it to recover fully, and in the meantime, there are these:

The remnants of Sansevieria francisii flowers, (the thin white things hanging off the stalk) along with what looks like fruit/seed pods.

Close up of the seed pods

Previously posted picture of the whole plant, from 2009. Right now the small offset seen here is as big as the base plant from which it sprouted.

I have no idea if S. francisii is self-fertile, so I don't know if I'll get viable seeds. But I'm going to try to let the fruit ripen, and see what happens.

In other Sansevieria news, I have discovered that I have made something of a cultural faux-pas. So that others may learn from my mistake, here is some advice: Never, ever put a plant with a stiff cylindrical growth habit into a clay pot with a rigid inner lip. The irresistible force (growth) will meet the immovable object (pot lip).

Sansevieria cylindrica, with four new offsets growing all around the edge of the pot.

I am going to have to repot before the new growth is injured by the rim. That is what happened to the thin leaf seen pointing to the right in the photo. Even though I managed to direct the growth away from the pot lip, the leaves of that particular offset had a damaged tips which shriveled and had to be cut off.

Whole plant

I am very happy that it is producing so many offsets, though. It had been sitting there so long without doing any growing at all.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, January 2011

2011-01-15T17:31:00.011-06:00

Once again, I am joining the garden blogging community in celebrating Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day. I'm pleasantly surprised to have several plants blooming this week. First of all, I'm thrilled that at least two of my Hibiscus rosa-sinensis plants have bounced back sufficiently from their white-fly infestations to grace me with flowers. (If this is their swan song before their insect-induced demise, I don't want to know about it.)

Hibiscus rosa-sinensis with a peach-colored double flower

Another tropical Hibiscus, this one a single-flowered yellow

Also in flower are the two NoID Phalaenopsis which surprised me by putting out new buds on old stalks, which I originally wrote about on November 27.

Yellow NoId Phalaenopsis, which has been in bloom since November

Two views of a multicolored NoId Phalaenopsis flower, which just opened this week. When clicked for a larger view, the second pic really shows off the sparkly petals.

Hippeastrum 'Lilian' is blooming for the third time. You can see the remains of the second flowering on the left. I must get around to cutting that off.

Besides the Mystery Echeveria which I wrote about in my most recent post, the only succulent currently in bloom is this Euphorbia milii:

Euphorbia milii, also known as Crown-of-Thorns. There are two different plants in this pot. The multicolored yellow flowers belong to the plant with the longer, paler leaves; the pink/peach flowers belong to the plant with the darker, more oval leaves.

Apparently, the color theme for January is yellow, peach and pink. Nice, cheery colors for a not-so-nice, dreary month.

A Blooming Mystery

2011-01-09T12:29:00.006-06:00

We're not big on efficiency here among the leaves. As I've mentioned before, I have a tendency to misplace plant tags. I don't keep formal records of my plants, or of plant-related information or tasks, though I've made half-hearted attempts at spreadsheets in the past. I do have an excellent memory for the most part, but there are times when it fails me.

Unidentified succulent plant

Apparently this time it has failed me spectacularly. I don't remember where I purchased this plant, or how long I've had it. It doesn't particularly bother me that I don't have an ID for it now; it does bother me that I don't remember if I ever had an ID for it.

I'm inclined to think that it is an Echeveria or a Graptoveria. The leaves suggest the latter to me, however the flowers are very Echeveria-like.

Three views of the flowers. In form, they look exactly like the flowers of all the other Echeveria varieties I grow, and the color is similar as well.

If anyone knows what this is, I'd be happy and grateful to hear from you. In the meantime, I think I'll have another go at making a spreadsheet to keep track of things.

For the New Year: Change from Within

2011-01-04T13:48:00.006-06:00

It has occurred to me that pride and perfectionism are among the sources of the difficulties I have had coming up with posts recently. I take great pride in having healthy, good-looking houseplants, and I love writing about and showing photos of my successes. But I also feel embarrassment bordering on shame when something goes wrong. I suppose such feelings are understandable when the problem is due to lapses in care (forgetting to water, or worse, putting off watering for too long; not keeping up with grooming; placing a plant in a spot that I know is all wrong for it. These are all things of which I have been guilty from time to time.) But the embarrassment is kind of silly when a plant starts to decline for reasons I don't understand, or for reasons I don't necessarily have full control over. (Pest infestations come to mind for the latter.) This has prevented me from posting pictures of plants in less than good condition, and more importantly, from sharing things I might do to fix things. It also deprives me of the chance to provide good before-and-after shots of things that do improve.

So this year, I resolve to be more forthcoming with the problems I have with my plants and, gasp, to even post the occasional ugly picture. Like the following:

Bedraggled Hibiscus rosa-sinensis plants, quarantined in my basement after treatment for a white fly infestation. I'm hoping that they recover.

While I hope less embarrassment will lead to more interesting posts, I do hope that my plants will thwart my resolve just a little bit, by staying healthy and good-looking!

A Minor Change for the New Year

2010-12-31T13:30:00.006-06:00

Today, I decided to amend my "What it's all about" mission statement to include my (outdoor) garden. I have found myself writing about it more than I thought I would, and I really enjoy doing so.

A view of part of my garden from last June

I also considered changing my tagline to "Growing Along with My Gardens" or "Growing Along with My Gardens--Inside and Out," but decided against it. Houseplants are my first love, and I want them to remain my primary focus.

Happy New Year to all.

My Top Ten Plants of 2010

2010-12-30T10:18:00.002-06:00

There have been lots of ups and downs among the leaves this year. I've embraced a whole new category of plants (Bromeliads) and all but given up on others (Hedera, Begonia.) At various times, I've battled fungus gnats, aphids, spider mites, mealy bug, scale and white flies. (Out of these, only the mealies prevailed: I had to throw away my Hoya multiflora because I just could not get rid of the damned things. Over the years, I have occasionally had plants succumb to scale or spider mites, but with diligence, I can usually get the upper hand with them. But I've never won a battle with mealies, ever.) I've dealt with sunburn, root rot, and naughty cats (apparently, Nolina recurvata looks like something good to nibble on.) But there have been a few plants that have done well, caused or attracted minimal trouble, and just made me consistently happy over the past year. Here, in alphabetical order, (because I couldn't make up my mind how to rank them otherwise) are my top ten favorite houseplants of 2010.

1. Aechmea fasciata: This is a plant I was once afraid to try. I was sure that once I got one home, the flowers would immediate fade, the inflorescence would shrivel, and the plant would die soon after. Instead, the little blue flowers lasted a good while, the pink inflorescence lasted for months, and not only is the mother plant still looking good, there is also a good sized offset.

___________________________________________________

2. Aloe greenii x lineata: This made the list as a first time bloomer this year.

_______________________________________________

3. Astrophytum capricorne: This is another first time bloomer. The flower was impressive, but I think my favorite thing about this plant is its crown of thorns. (Yes, I know cactus have spines, not thorns, but crown of spines doesn't have the same ring to it.)

___________________________________________________

4. x Chamaelovibia 'Captain Jessop': I'm not 100% certain of the ID. What I am certain about is that this little cactus put on a hell of a show this year. It is only 2.5 inches tall, but it bloomed three times, each time with flowers bigger than the plant itself.

___________________________________________________

5. Epiphyllum 'David W. Grant' : Cacti were a big hit with me this year, apparently. At any rate, after several years with no flowers whatever, my only Epi bloomed twice, once in May, then again in October. The plant itself is rather ugly, but the flowers are wonderful.

___________________________________________________

6. Hoya carnosa 'Krimson Queen': This plant needs no special care, continues to grow like a weed, has beautiful leaves, and bloomed all summer long. It also inspired one of my favorite posts and accompanying photo series: Six out of Seven

____________________________________________________

7. Mammillaria formosa subsp. microthele: Once again the ID is a bit tentative, but there is nothing tentative about my love for what will always be Mom's Plant

___________________________________________________

8. Monstera deliciosa: Another perennial sentimental favorite, because I grew it from seed, and because it is awesome. It survived a scale infestation this year, and keeps on putting out big, beautiful leaves.

_______________________________________________

9. Sansevieria hallii: A handsome, trouble-free plant that grows slowly, but steadily. This year's new leaf ended up being taller and thicker than all the others that came before it.

____________________________________________________

10. Vriesea splendens: The plant that started my successful entry into the wonderful world of Bromeliads. It went seamlessly from blooming to pupping, and continues to grow larger. And I love the dark patterned foliage.

____________________________________________________

Honorable mention: Aglaonema. I can't single out a particular plant or species. Every one of my Ags is doing well and remains trouble free.

I'm looking forward to the coming year of growing. I know there are going to be difficulties. But I know just as certainly that there will be delights.

Taking a Break: December 17-30

2010-12-16T11:53:00.007-06:00

If you are a regular visitor to Life Among the Leaves, you have probably noticed that my posts have been sporadic lately. I haven't lost interest in plants (that would be the day!) or blogging, but I've been finding it difficult to come up with interesting things to write about. Since I'm the self-conscious type, this lapse of the imagination has come with more than a little anxiety. "Oh my! Oh dear! Oh no! I haven't posted in a week! Must find something--anything-- to write about!" And everyone knows, what the Holiday Season doesn't need is extra anxiety.

So rather than not posting, and wringing my hands over it, I am giving myself permission to take a little break. I want to thank everyone who does read LATL on a regular basis, or even just every now and then. It really means a lot to me.

So I'll be back posting in two weeks. In the meantime here are some photos of what's blooming, or getting ready to bloom, today:

Recently purchased Schlumbergera

Hippeastrum 'Lilian' put up a second bloom stalk. There are six flowers this time!

The new branch on my NoId Phalaenopsis, which I posted about on November 27, is indeed producing flower buds.

And yes, I did put the long suffering Hippeastrum 'Nilona' in a proper pot.

Wishing the joy and happiness of the season to everyone who celebrates a holiday this time of year. Wishing joy and happiness and peace on earth to everyone, no matter what.

See you on the 30th!

Almost Forgotten

2010-12-09T12:33:00.008-06:00

More than a month ago, when I was buying the last of my fall bulbs for planting outdoors, I picked up yet another Amaryllis, Hippeastrum 'Rilona'. Well, because of some needed construction work around the house and yard, I didn't get to plant a lot of those bulbs, (mostly Crocus and Narcissus) until quite late. So they stayed in the paper shopping bag from the nursery for a long time. So did the Amaryllis. In my rush to finally get last of the bulbs in the ground in the days after Thanksgiving, the Amaryllis stayed behind.

Finally, last week, I asked myself, "Why the heck haven't I thrown away this crumpled paper bag?" I looked inside and found the bulb, with two very pale but strong looking flower stalks emerging, almost horizontally, toward the small amount of light they were getting from the opening in the bag. So of course, I took the bulb out of the bag. But did I do the right thing, and plant it up right away? Well, no. (Here is where you can picture your Crazy Plant Lady looking sheepishly at the floor and swinging her foot back and forth.) I was busy, so I just propped the bulb up in an empty pot, not too far from a window. At least that way, I reasoned, it would grow straight and green until I could get to it.

Well as of this writing, I still haven't planted it. And here is how it looked just a short while ago:

Hippeastrum 'Rilona,' supported by the grouping of terrariums I use as my dining table centerpiece

It actually looks pretty, just sitting there on the mirror. And I'd be inclined to leave it there, if the poor thing hadn't already suffered enough. I promise, that just as soon as I post this, I will plant it up properly.

Crowded Kitchen Window

2010-12-05T15:33:00.010-06:00

I recently realized that in the many years that I have posting pictures of my plants on the web, in my PictureTrail albums, in my Photobucket albums, and on my family website, I have seldom posted pictures of my south-facing kitchen window. This is probably because the pictures I take of this area seldom come out well. So today I tried again, and while they are not the best photographs I've ever taken, they do give a decent idea of what the area looks like.

In the winter I use this window for many of those succulents that I think will do better with natural sun, or which don't fit under the fluorescent lights in the basement. In the warmer months, I move whatever plants I think might look nice to fill up the empty spaces.

Two bakers racks, filled with succulents. Two Epipremnum and a Syngonium hang overhead. Hidden from view: a row of small succulents in 2-inch pots sitting directly on the window frames, and a few hanging succulents on the curtain rod close to the window.

Full view of that corner of the kitchen, showing the east and south windows. There is also a row of small pots on the east window frame. These are mostly cacti, which for the most part, don't get watered between now and March.

In the wintertime, the whole area is probably a bit more crowded than it should be for optimum display value. (The same can be said for all the plant areas in the house.) But overall I think I've done the best I can with what I've got.

Monday Macro: Hedera helix

2010-11-29T18:28:00.004-06:00

I haven't posted about my ivies for some time, with good reason. I've downsized my collection considerably. I've found it impossible to keep spider mites at bay if I have to monitor more than five or six Hedera helix plants, so that's what I have now. Finding spider mites on a nearby Hoya, of all things, was the last straw.

Despite the trouble they've caused, I still think Hedera varieties are among the most beautiful plants that one can grow in the home. I think this is a good example:

Hedera helix 'Minty,' also known as Hedera helix 'Mint Kolibri.' This is one of the plants that I lost, and one of the few I will replace if/when I come across another one.

This photo is a little less macro than most, since it is not all that large when opened to full size. But doing so (two clicks) will reveal the beautiful pattern of the leaves.

Sometimes, Laziness Pays Off

2010-11-27T20:49:00.005-06:00

Last year, I bought two unidentified Phalaenopsis orchids on clearance. One had yellow flowers, the other had flowers in a multicolored pink/peach pattern. The flowers lasted for months, and after the show was over, I left the flower stalks on the plant. This wasn't because I was hoping that they'd bloom again on those stalks, as I've never had that happen with any of the Phals I've owned previously. I just didn't get around to it. I figured I'd cut them off once they started to turn brown. But that never happened; they stayed firm and green, and did nothing, until recently, when one did this:

NoId Phalaenopsis blooming on old flower stalk. I never even removed the old stake.

Flower and bud up close

And the other one did this:

New branch on old flower stalk

Closer view of the new branch, with what I hope are new flower buds. Again, I had never bothered to remove the old support.

Orchids are still a bit of a mystery to me. I pamper them, and they die. I ignore them, and they surprise me with flowers and growth.

If it's July, Then That Must be a Monstera--Announcing the Debut of Life Among the Leaves Calendars

2010-11-26T18:14:00.010-06:00

Every once and a while, when going through the photographs I've taken for the blog, I've thought that it would be nice to be able to preserve them in some other form. So I decided to take some of my favorites, and turn them into calendars for myself. This worked out pretty well, so I thought that it would be nice make them available to anyone else who might be interested. I'm offering two calendars for sale, one featuring tropical houseplants, the other featuring cacti and succulents. There are two separate links because Cafe Press doesn't allow more than one of the same style of item in their basic shops, so I made two shops, one for each plant group. In the future, I may offer other merchandise besides the calendars.

Cover of the Houseplant Calendar

Cover of the Cactus and Succulent Calendar

The links in the photo captions go directly to my shops, and there are permanent links in the sidebar of the blog.

Plant Reminiscences, Part 2: The Bratty Years

2010-11-25T13:29:00.001-06:00

I might have left the impression in my last "Reminiscence" post that all my childhood experiences with houseplants were sweet and heartwarming. Not necessarily.

I was a shy and quiet little kid, but that doesn't mean that I didn't have a bratty streak. Sometimes, when I was bored, I used to experiment with plants. In this case "experiment" is a euphemism for "mutilate." I used to scrape the surface of the brown lower stems of Ficus elastica with my fingernails to see the green flesh underneath. I also enjoyed scraping those "funny brown bumps" (nascent aerial roots) off my grandmother's Epipremnum aureum plants.

Epipremnum aureum leaf. Since Pothos is mentioned in most of the anecdotes, it seems only right to illustrate this post with pictures of them.

E. aureum plants were a frequent subject of my experiments, probably because there were so many of them at my house. I actually related one incident in the comments of Mr. Subjunctive's excellent Plant Toxicity series at Plants Are the Strangest People. In this case, the experiment, though damaging to the plant, actually had the potential to damage me. When I was maybe seven or so, I decided, for whatever reason kids decide such things, to remove and chew on a couple of Epipremnum leaves. I think I was playing some sort of survival game with myself, where I was stranded in the jungle and had to survive on leaves. I experienced a mildly painful tingling/numbing sensation in my mouth, from the calcium oxalate crystals all plants in the Araceae family contain to a greater or lesser degree. It was enough to make me stop chewing the leaves then, but somehow, not bad enough for me not to do the same thing a few weeks later. I think I didn't actually associate the unpleasant sensations with chewing on the leaves. ( It's hard to believe that I was generally considered to be a smart kid.) After experiencing the tingling/numbing a second time, I did recognize that there was a cause/effect going on, and never did it again. Fortunately, I didn't experience anything worse from this little adventure.

Then when I was about eight, I decided I wanted a houseplant of my own. And no, potting up a cutting from one of my grandmother's many Pothos would not do. I wanted something different. So Nana took me to Woolworth's and we picked out a plant for me. It was an Aroid of some type. It resembled a Philodendron hederaceum, and maybe it was, but in my memory, it had a slightly more upright growth habit. Maybe it was a very juvenile Monstera deliciosa.

Epipremnum aureum 'Marble Queen'

At any rate, I took good care of of my plant for a while. But my bedroom was not very bright, and my plant didn't seem to be growing much. So I got bored with it. One day, I decide to see what would happen if I trimmed the edges of the leaves of the plant. I trimmed very carefully, following the shape of the leaves. (Well as carefully as I could; I was clumsy with scissors back them. I still am today; I can't cut a straight line to save my life.) As one would expect, this left all the leaves with brown edges. And I lost interest in the plant totally, because it was no longer perfect. This is a far cry from today, when I have a tendency to hold onto ugly or ailing plants long after any sensible person would throw them out.

Epipremnum aureum growing on a pole made of floral foam covered with sphagnum moss and stuffed into a wire framework. The plant is not so much growing on the pole as it is pinned to the pole. It is impossible to keep the pole moist without over-saturating the soil. Still the whole thing is more than five feet tall, and looks pretty good.

My next reminscence post will likely cover my teen years, when my real interest in houseplants began.

Happy Thanksgiving to all who are celebrating it. Happy Thursday to everyone.

I Missed One--Blooming Jade

2010-11-20T16:40:00.004-06:00

When I was photographing plants for bloom day this past Monday, I forgot to take pictures of one of the plants I really wanted to share.

I'm not completely sure which Crassula species this plant belongs to, but I believe that it is some form of Crassula arborescens, maybe C. arborescens 'Blue Bird.'

Blooming Crassula variety. The flowers were washed out quite a bit by the flash.

Not very clear shot showing the pink color of the petals. After several attempts at photographing these flowers, it seemed that I could achieve color, or clarity, but not both.

Whole plant

I have several Jade plants, which I love, and grow, for their foliage and form. I love flowers as much as the next person, but they are almost always secondary for me as an indoor plant grower. The plants I grow strictly for flowers, like Hibiscus, Hippeastrum, and jungle cacti, are the exceptions that prove the rule.

But Crassula ovata and Crassula arborescens are reluctant bloomers in home culture, so it is a little exciting when they do so. My Crassula ovata 'Gollum' flowered during November a couple of years ago. It is a large plant, and there was one tiny flower cluster on one branch.

Crassula ovata 'Gollum' blooms from November of '08. The flowers were white, and I had a hard time capturing a clear picture with my old camera.

Crassula ovata 'Gollum' whole plant, photographed in November 2009

I realize that even though my love for foliage is the primary reason I choose and grow plants, a lot of my blog posts focus on flowers. That is probably for two reasons. The first is that flowers are photogenic (mostly--I've already demonstrated in this post that getting good shots of them is sometimes problematic.) The second is that flowers demonstrate a plant doing something. Sometimes it is hard to come up with something to write about if your subjects just sit around not doing anything. You know, like houseplants.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, November 2010

2010-11-15T15:46:00.008-06:00

My goodness, I actually remembered this time. Here is what's blooming in my home and garden on this lovely November 15. And yes, it actually is lovely. Sunny and around 50F. Crisp leaves underfoot. I'm learning to appreciate autumn for what it is, rather than imbuing it with a sense of dread and doom as winter approaches.

Indoors first, since this is a houseplant blog:

Hibiscus rosa-sinensis, unidentified cultivar

Aloe greenii x lineata

Crassula lactea

Three views of Echeveria 'Black Prince.' First the whole plant with bloom stalk, then a closeup of the blooming rosette, then the flowers themselves.

Now for the outdoors. We've had a mild November for the most part, but we've had our frosts at night. Most of the garden has gone to sleep, but there are a couple of things hanging on, and one thing, at least, freshly emerged for the season.

Gaillardia x grandiflora 'Dazzler.' This late planting is still hanging on, well past its usual blooming season.

Mums among the leaves. These Chrysanthemums are past their prime, and a touch frostbitten, but still pretty.

Newly emerged Autumn Crocus. (Crocus pulchellus, I think.) I planted a few earlier this season, and amazingly, the squirrels didn't get them all.

Happy Bloom Day, every day.

Plant Reminiscences, Part 1

2010-11-14T09:27:00.008-06:00

The first Plant Lady I ever knew was my maternal grandmother, Lillian Brown. My mother and I lived with her for many years after my parents separated. She didn't own a lot of plants, say a dozen or so. But her fondness for houseplants is very much a part of what I remember, when I think of her.

Hippeastrum 'Lilian' When I saw the name, I just had to buy this Amaryllis in honor of my grandmother. She did spell her name "Lillian," however.

It's funny though, that except for the several pothos, (Epipremnum aureum) I don't remember very clearly what those dozen plants were. Nana's house wasn't very sunny, so her plants were those that accepted less than ideal conditions with grace. Much like Nana did, throughout a rather complicated and difficult life.

A look at Google maps indicates that the suitable plant windows faced southwest and northeast, which, on the face of it, are decent exposures for growing. However, I recall that the windows were obstructed considerably by trees and nearby buildings. As for the rest of the plants, there was a small palm, I know, and a green Syngonium, which she later gave to me when I was a teen and no longer living with her. There was something with a bit of a trunk, maybe a Polyscias balfouriana. There were Begonias, I'm sure, and a plant that I can't identify. I always thought I'd know it when I saw it, but I've seen hundreds of houseplants, both in person and pictures, and I've never come across it. All I recall is that stems were surrounded by the leaves, something like a Crassula perforata, but it wasn't a succulent.

Another view of Hippeastrum 'Lilian' showing the whole plant. The flowers are small and dainty, unlike many Hippeastrum cultivars. My grandmother wasn't a particularly small woman, but she had a delicateness in her demeanor that belied her inner strength.

Nana worked very hard, both as a cleaning lady for several clients, and in taking care of our home. She also spent a lot of time taking care of me, while my mother worked and pursued a social life. So she didn't have a lot of time to devote to plant care. But her plants were always well watered, well groomed, well loved. Every summer, the plants would line the edges of our tiny front porch, soaking up the sunshine. When I was little, my mother and I would sometimes try to add to the plant collection, usually with disastrous results. Either we'd buy something totally unsuitable for the conditions, or something no one knew how to take care of. One such gift was a magnificent Caladium bicolor 'Candidum.' None of us knew that it was supposed to die back at the end of the season, and that it could be regrown from its tubers in the spring. So we all watched with dismay as the huge leaves withered and died over several weeks.

I was holding a camera at an odd angle when I took this picture. On one hand, it is vertigo-inducing. On the other had, it shows the actual color of the flowers well, so I decided to include it.

A happier memory I have is of planting apple and orange seeds together, in old margarine containers, just to see what would happen. I would have been about seven, I guess. Nana chose oranges and I chose apples. I was thrilled when the orange seeds sprouted, and a bit disappointed when the apples never did. But is was something we enjoyed together. We were a lot alike in many ways.

Nana died in 1978, about a month before my eighteenth birthday. People sometimes said that I looked just like her, and I always wondered why, since our facial features were not particularly similar. But then, years later, I saw myself on video, about a half hour's worth. I noticed that I have most of her general mannerisms, from my posture to the way I walk to the gestures I make with my hands. Even with dissimilar features, my facial expressions also echo hers to a surprising degree. And of course, we are both Plant Ladies.

Trying Again

2010-11-09T16:46:00.006-06:00

In October 2009, in a post entitled Never Again List, I wrote the following:

"Sansevieria trifasciata ‘Hahnii' (any variety) I suppose it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. And I do love these, but from now on it will be from afar. It just hurts too much. Much more sensitive to watering issues than the taller S. trifasciatas. While overwatering will kill them quickly, moderate watering seems to kill them slowly. Every single one I’ve had has rotted, no matter how careful I am."

Well, apparently "never" has a new definition, i.e. "yesterday." Because that is when I purchased the plants pictured here:

Two Sansevieria trifasciata 'Golden Hahnii' plants to the left and another S. trifasciata dwarf variety to the right.

"From afar" apparently has a new definition as well. It means "a few feet from my desk," which is where these are now.

I was in the nursery to see if there were any nice fall bulbs on late-season sale. I had no plans to purchase any houseplants. But a crazy plant lady doesn't need plans or a motive. Just opportunity. These Sansevieria were too nice to pass up. I examined the roots. I examined the centers of each of the rosettes. I tugged gently on the leaves. All was well; no rot, no signs of overwatering or distress. It was warm outside yesterday, in the 60s Fahrenheit, so they didn't catch a chill going from greenhouse to car to home. In other words, if these plants do not succeed, I cannot blame it on the nursery, or the chill of November. It is all up to me.

From the CBG, September and October 2010

2010-11-04T15:56:00.002-05:00

Although it is open all year round, I tend not to visit the Chicago Botanic Garden from late fall until the early spring. For one, it is more than an hour's drive away from my home, and I don't care much for driving, even in the best of weather. (As anyone who has experienced one knows, Chicagoland winters do not fall into the category of "the best of weather.")

So these will probably be my last photographs from the CBG for a while.

Views from the Arid Greenhouse, which has been looking very nice lately. They have been sprucing the place up and adding new plants in the last several months.

Here is one of the new plants. The tag reads: Kalanchoe thryrisifolia 'Fantastic.' I really like the white variegation.

On to the Tropical Greenhouse. I have to admit, I'm not a big Cordyline fan. I like pink plants, I like purple plants. But something about the coloration of many of the Cordyline fruticosa varieties I've seen just seems discordant to my eyes. Not this one:

Cordyline fruticosa 'Bolero Bicolor.' This just about took my breath away.

I also like this one. Unfortunately I couldn't fine the identification tag, but I definitely recognize it as a Cordyline.

On to the outdoors. I like Dahlia flowers a lot, but I seldom plant any in my garden, because they seem to be earwig magnets. But I like admiring them elsewhere, and I thought this was both unusual and beautiful:

Dahlia 'Juul's Allstar.' I love the curled petals.

I often end my CBG posts with a picture of some of the ducks that frequent the water garden areas. Here is a something a bit bigger:

Trumpeter swan, (Cygnus buccinator.) The Garden has two pair of these, who apparently live there year round.

This picture is an example of the magic of both zooming and cropping. Though I wasn't very far away, this close would have been too close for comfort. I like my wildlife, especially really large, potentially foul-tempered fowl, at a bit of a distance.

Monday Macro: Gymnocalycium stenopleurum flowers

2010-11-01T20:46:00.006-05:00

Oh my, I almost didn't get this done today, which would have been unfortunate. "Tuesday Macro" doesn't have quite the same ring to it, now does it?

Last fall, I posted about my Gymnocalycium stenopleurum, which had produced a large, lovely pink flower. Since then, I've learned that G. stenopleurum is a synonym for Gymnocalycium mihanovichii subsp. friedrichii, which is such a long name for such a petite plant. It also bloomed again this summer, but I missed getting a picture of the fully opened flower that time.

Gymnocalycium flower. Opening the photo to its full size highlights the sparkle of the petals.

Here's a reminder of what the whole plant looks like:

Gymnocalycium stenopleurum, aka Gymnocalycium mihanovichii subsp. friedrichii

The body of the plant is purplish, but has enough chlorophyll to survive on its own, unlike its relatives, the oft-seen grafted red and yellow Gymnocalycium mihanovichii varieties.

New Plant: Midnight Among the Leaves

2010-10-31T15:26:00.005-05:00

Every so often, my local Home Depot surprises me. Over the years, I've found it to be a decent place to find common houseplants, but not the place to go for anything exotic or out of the ordinary. But last week I found this plant, labeled, of course, as a generic "Tropical Houseplant"

Alpinia malaysianum, sometimes called Alpinia 'Midnight'

I've had one of these before, and it didn't fare all that well. Alpinia, and its relatives in the Zingiberaceae, (ginger family) like a lot of moisture, and wilt and shrivel and carry on if they don't get it. My first specimen was very small (only a few leaves) and wasn't vigorous enough to put up with my tendency to underwater. (My Alpinia zerumbet variegata, which was kind of large when I bought it, has flagged and bounced back a few times, after I cut off some pretty ugly old foliage. It's looking pretty good now.) I'll try to be more careful with this one.

New foliage, with its dark caramel color contrasting against the nearly black older leaves

And of course, it wouldn't be a weekend without a pet picture:

A spicy duo: Peppermint and the Alpinia. (Yes, the plant does have a gingery scent, if the stems are cut, or the roots are handled.)

If Luke had posed, I would have had a nice black and orange shot for Halloween. Also, a ginger cat with a ginger plant would be a nice visual pun. But the constant doorbell ringing from trick-or-treaters has scared my shy orange boy into hiding. The ever-intrepid Peppermint obliged by sitting next to the plant. but the effect is not quite the same.

Epi Encore

2010-10-28T20:55:00.008-05:00

Late last May, I posted about my Epiphyllum 'David W. Grant', which was putting on an unprecedented blooming extravaganza. There were twelve flowers in all. Well, Mr. Grant has taken the stage again, this time with only a single bloom. But since there have been several years when this plant didn't flower at all, I'm especially pleased with the repeat performance in 2010.

Epiphyllum 'David W. Grant' from three different angles

After a summer spent hanging in the tree outdoors, Mr. Grant is back in his usual spot in the spare room. (AKA the "Cats' Room", since that is where we keep their litter boxes and other accoutrements.) Perhaps, after a winter with the same care as last year, there will be a return engagement next May.

Monday Macro: Yet another Echeveria

2010-10-25T14:57:00.001-05:00

Echeveria pulvinata 'Frosty'

I thought that I had posted a version of this picture at some point, but a check back through the blog archives suggests not. Echeveria pulvinata 'Frosty' has been a very easy plant to care for, though it has been through a few mishaps, such as falling off shelves and having its soil washed almost completely away during heavy rainstorms. These have left the plant looking not as pretty as it once did. But when looking at each rosette of leaves up close, the contrast between those frosty white "hairs" and the shiny green leaf surface is striking. Click twice for the full effect.

A picture of the whole plant can be seen in this post.

Wistful at the Window

2010-10-23T11:42:00.004-05:00

Peppermint, the mighty hunter turned indoor kitty, surveys his former domain, and plots his triumphant return. (Oh yeah, there are plants in the pictures too, most notably Strelitzia reginae and Epipremnum aureum on the inside, with Strobilanthes dyerianus and Rudbeckia fulgida 'Goldsturm' on the outside.)

Photographs courtesy of my husband, Bob.

Variegated Haworthias, Expected and Unexpected

2010-10-22T13:34:00.002-05:00

Some months ago, I saw a picture of a variegated Haworthia limifolia, and knew that I just had to have one. The regular green H. limifolia is probably my favorite Haworthia anyway, and variegation just seemed like icing on the cake. So I started looking. Nothing was available locally. None of my usual mail-order sources seemed to have any. And while there were plants available on eBay, either they had been bid up to a level beyond which I felt comfortable, or they were too small for the price + shipping, or they were from overseas sellers. I am not comfortable with buying plants from private sellers located outside of the United States at this time. I want to be as sure as I can that all customs and conservation regulations are being complied with. It is the least I can do to help protect the environment and natural habitats, both here and abroad.

But just recently, I found a nice-sized plant from an eBay seller in California that wasn't overpriced or the subject of a bidding war. The variegation isn't as bold as many I've seen, but it is still pretty nice.

Variegated Haworthia limifolia

And then just the other day, when I was rearranging my plants to accommodate those that had been brought in from outdoors, I noticed something. One of the Haworthia fasciata plants that I had bought a few years back, probably from Home Depot of all places, had grown a variegated offset.

Haworthia fasciata, with four white-striped leaves.
(The variegation can be seen in better detail when the photo is clicked for the larger version.)

So I'm going to be keeping an eye on all of my Haworthia plants, to see if anymore have surprises in store for me.

Return of the Bromeliads, New and Old

2010-10-20T19:45:00.001-05:00

Even though it seems like most of my attention was on my succulents during the summer and fall, my love for Bromeliads remains unabated. While I was singing their praises in Monday's post, I remembered that I never posted about my latest acquisition:

Cryptanthus 'Black Mystic'

Another view. It is a fairly small plant in a 4-inch pot.

I love the color and striped pattern, and it has been extremely easy to care for. I had seen pictures of similar Cryptanthus in vintage houseplant books, but never any for sale until recently. I had just purchased this one by mail order, when I visited a new nursery and saw a few for sale there as well. I hope more species and varieties become more readily available; they are wonderful plants.

And now some updates on my older plants:

My other Cryptanthus, a more commonly available red and green variety, which I've had for a few months. It bloomed over the summer.

This is what my Aechmea fasciata looked like in May, with it's blue "true" flowers showing through the pink inflorescence:

Previously posted photograph of Aechmea fasciata

This is what it looks like now, spent, but still showy. The blooming rosette itself should still last for months, and there is a large pup coming up on the side to carry on when "mom" succumbs.

Speaking of pups, this Neoregelia has developed a large one:

Neoregelia 'Toucan' The original rosette is on the left, the new offset is on the right.

This plant seems to be the most easygoing of my Neoregelia varieties. There have been no drying leaves on the original plant, and the offset is growing fast. It is just starting to get the little red points on the leaf tips, and has a nice blush in the center that the original plant didn't have.

Last but not least, here is the plant that kicked off my Bromeliadmania, a Vriesea splendens I found in the grocery store last January. Not only has it survived for more than the six months I rather pessimistically predicted, it has done really well.

Vriesea splendens. The outer ring of leaves is the original plant, the center leaves are new growth. Apparently pups form more or less in the center of the "vase" rather than to the side. So the plant seems to constantly renew itself.

Journey to the center of a plant

Most of my other Bromeliads are also doing fine. I've kind of decided that right now, I have about as many plants (of all types) as I can handle. (Maybe more, if you've read my rather self-pitying reply in the comments to my recent Anthurium post.) But a being a crazy plant lady, I can always be tempted if the right plant comes along. Especially if it is a Brom.

Oops! Another Bloom Day Got Past Me

2010-10-19T13:35:00.001-05:00

Once again, I missed Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day on the 15th. But since I still have plenty of plants putting on a show in my outdoor garden, I thought I would post some pictures anyway.

From the front yard:

This Rubeckia hirta, which has been in its second bloom cycle of the year for more than a month, has acquired a white ring on the petals as it ages.

Chysanthemum cultivar. I love the orange color.

More Chrysanthemums, which have flopped over a bit. Next year, I might try to keep them trimmed back early in the year ("knee high until the fourth of July") to produce more upright, compact plants. Besides, the cuttings root easily, so I'll have more plants.

A solitary late Lychnis coronaria bloom

We have a new bed in the backyard, which has been a couple of years in the making. Our yard is sloped, so my husband built a retaining wall so that we could have a level bed in this area. However, getting it finished and planted hasn't been our priority until recently. So for about a year, anytime I repotted or discarded a plant, the old potting mix got dumped into the bed. Then when we did decide to finish, we added bagged soil, peat and compost, and Bob tilled everything together with the native soil. The result is a rich, but looser planting medium than the heavy black clay soil on the rest of our property. That, combined with a warm fall, has resulted in fast growth and reblooming of plants that might normally have been done for the season. This is especially gratifying, since along with the fresh new perennials, I purchased some rather ragged discount plants in August, and I wasn't expecting much from them until next year.

From the backyard:

Sedum 'Autumn Fire'

Gallardia x grandiflora 'Dazzler' with some Nepeta x faassenii 'Blue Wonder' (Catmint) on the left.

Another shot of the Gaillardia

Salvia 'May Night,' still going strong in October. I only wish that my Salvia plants out front were this prolific.

Another view of the Salvia, showing part of the wall that Bob built

The Salvia, Nepeta and Gaillardia have been attracting lots and lots of bees for the past few weeks. My stepson Dave, who is my go-to guy for insect identification, tells me that they are honeybees, which makes me happy and hopeful.

Monday Macro: Neoregelia

2010-10-18T10:44:00.014-05:00

Neoregelia 'Olens x Diana' with water in the "vase."

It has been several months since I've gone from no Bromeliads except for Tillandsia "air plants," to several plants of various species, and I'm still enchanted. These beauties are far easier to care for than I ever imagined. The only problem I've had is a bit of lower leaf drying among some of the Neoregelia varieties, which has been improved by keeping the "vase" in the center of the rosette filled with water, and the occasional misting on non-watering days.

(As with all Monday Macro posts, click twice for a large full-size photograph.)

Bringing In, Bringing On the Blooms

2010-10-16T14:18:00.009-05:00

Maybe they are feeling a bit stressed by the change in the environment, since they've been brought indoors where it is warmer and less sunny. Maybe it is just the right time of year. But anyway, several of my succulents have decided that now is the time for producing flowers.

Aloe 'Doran Black'

Aloe greenii x lineata with bloom stalk. This will be the first time this plant has flowered in the four years I've owned it.

Unidentified Euphorbia. This is the third round of buds since early spring for this plant.

I meant to cut the rosette of this Echeveria runyonii from its leggy stem to re-root, but never got around to it. Small offsets are forming at the base of the stem.

E. runyonii blooms up close. It is hard to get a good picture because of the reflective nature of the plant's glaucous coating, which is why the flowers seem washed out in both pictures. They are much more orange in person. Also your blogger needs hand lotion, since her fingertips appear to have developed a glaucous coating of their own.

Echeveria 'Black Prince' just getting started. Its flowers will be red-orange, if I recall correctly.

Unidentified Echeveria. The "rosette" to the left is actually atop a bloom stalk, which is hard to see at this angle. I think this will be the first time for flowers from this plant.

One thing that makes me think that it just happens to be blooming season, for the Aloes at least, is a recent trip to the Chicago Botanic Gardens, where their grouping of Aloe thraskii either in bud or in flower.

Aloe thraskii group at the CBG earlier this year

Plants in bud yesterday, with a blooming Yucca (I think) in the background

Closer pictures of an A. thraskii in bud

Plant in bloom

Finally, at least one cat's curiosity got the better of him during today's photo session:

Luke says "Hi!"

Monday Macro:* Anthurium andreanum 'Oklahoma'

2010-10-11T15:19:00.001-05:00

I have always had difficulty with Anthuriums, and this one is no exception. It was only a few weeks ago that I managed to free it from an infestation of spider mites. Then today, I noticed that the plant was looking a trifle lackluster, and discovered that scale insects had moved in on the territory the mites had left behind. Aargh! I actually considered just giving up and throwing the plant away, rather than go through the whole treat-quarantine-keep-my-fingers-crossed routine. But, I decided that I must keep an Anthurium alive for more than one year, if only through sheer force of will. I once had an Anthurium andreanum 'Arizona' which lasted for just about a year. It even rebloomed, but shortly after that it declined and just sort of petered out.

Anyway, here are some shots of A. andreanum 'Oklahoma' from happier days in September 2009:

Anthurium andreanum 'Oklahoma' flowers. The first picture was previously posted in compressed form, the second is being posted for the first time.

*I realize that I am probably stretching the definition of "macro" a little bit. Still, these are two of my very favorites among all the pictures I've taken of my houseplants, and opening them to full-size (two clicks) is a different experience from seeing them reduced to fit within the blog text.

Bringing Them Back In, Again

2010-10-07T17:55:00.005-05:00

My inaugural blog pot last October 8 was about bringing my succulents back in for the fall. Well, that time of year has returned. Once again, I'm using the system of placing my plants in trays with diatomaceous earth for a few days, to make sure that no creepy crawlies escape into my house.

Things were a little more rushed this year, as frost warnings came earlier than expected. I moved everything from the front and back yards last Saturday. There was considerable muttering under my breath while doing so. "Yeah, you really just had to buy all those new plants this summer," I scolded myself. "You know damn good and well that you have to bring them all in eventually." Not only do I have quite a few more plants, but many of my succulents were moved up a pot-size or two while outdoors, so they don't fit into the same spots as they did last winter. (And the hell of it is, the cold snap was short-lived. We have had a couple of days of above average temperatures, and there are several more to come, according to the forecast.)

Succulents have taken over my dining room...

During the move, some plants wound up in the garage instead of the living/dining room, since I didn't have enough trays available. The plan is to transfer a few plants from the dining area to their permanent positions each day, and then move a like number of plants from the garage into the prepared trays.

...And my garage. My poor husband won't be able to get his car in until these seasonal shenanigans are done with. (A few plants other than succulents can be seen, like Dracaena, Hippeastrum and Tradescantia pallida.)

My Hibiscus rosa-sinensis have already been placed in their permanent spots, as has my Araucaria heterophylla. The cold-hardy Hedera, Fatsia, Asparagus, and Aspidistra will remain outdoors for a while longer.

I keep thinking that I've got to work out new systems for both moving the plants out, and bringing them in. Every year, the sheer amount of work has me wondering why I have so many plants, anyway. Well, at least until I get everything settled, and then I go back to loving what I have, and lusting after more.

Monday Macro, Indoors and Outdoors

2010-10-04T08:36:00.005-05:00

Last night, we had our first frost warning. I'm not sure yet if we did have an actual frost, but I wouldn't be surprised. All my cacti and succulents had made it indoors, or at least into the garage, by Saturday, as did the few leafy tropicals which were spending time outdoors. So for the next several days, there will be chaos among the leaves, while I find a place for everything, and then put everything in its place.

Meanwhile here are the Monday macros. Click once to open and a second time for full-size.

An Echeveria cultivar that might be E. 'Afterglow'

Unidentified Hemerocallis flower

I have posted both of these before in compressed form, because they are among my favorites of the plant photos I've taken. But they really are much better, and far more detailed, in their larger versions.

You Never Know What You Are Going to Get

2010-09-29T15:10:00.006-05:00

Plant genetics can take some surprising turns, even when one doesn't crossbreed plants on purpose. A few days ago, I posted a picture of the lovely Symphyotrichum novae-angliae, (New England Aster) that popped up in my garden unbidden last year.

Volunteer Symphyotrichum novae-angliae

Well, I collected some seeds from that plant last fall. They produced several seedlings, only one of which I managed to plant in my garden (or so I thought).

The result was this:

Blue and pink Asters. In person, the flowers on the right are a deeper shade of pink without the hint of purple seen in the photograph.

As far as I can tell, this is only one plant with two different colored flowers, though it is remotely possible that there were actually two seedlings that came up too close together to notice (or separate) when I was planting them. While I would find the former really cool, (and really surprising) if there are indeed two plants here, the all seeds still all came from the one blue-flowered original. Asters are much beloved by bees and butterflies, so I'm sure that open-pollination contributed some genetic diversity to my plants.

At any rate, I'm going to collect seeds again this year, from the original plant, and from the both the blue and pink flowers here, and see what happens.

Something New Among the Leaves--Monday Macro

2010-09-27T14:00:00.003-05:00

One of my favorite things about blogging is being able to share photographs of my plants. Taking the pictures allows me to view my plants in a new way, and, sometimes, to explore my my creative potential. So, today I'm introducing a new feature: Every Monday, I will post an extreme close-up photo of a plant, or part of a plant, that will fill the screen when opened to full size. Usually, I compress my pictures quite a bit for posting, so there are times when details are lost.

Here is this week's offering. (Click once to open, then a second time for full size.)

Echeveria chihuahuaensis, (tentative ID) after a rain shower

I've owned this Echeveria for about eight or nine months. It has been outdoors since June, and the color of the leaf tips has really intensified in the sun. It seemed to do pretty well indoors, too, in a south window.

Haw, Haw, Haw

2010-09-26T13:13:00.009-05:00

It's funny. Haworthia is not one of my favorite genera. I don't usually come across one in a store and think, "Oooh, nice plant. I've got to have it!" (This is my general reaction to almost all Aloe, every Echeveria, several Sansevieria, a bevy of Bromeliads and, well, I won't go on.) But I accumulate quite a few Haws anyway, because I love making Haworthia dish gardens. You get all the charm of a succulent mixed bowl, without the worries that occur when planting species with incompatible needs together. I've shared some of my bowls before in this post and this one, and now I've got a few more. Quite a few of these plants are NoIds. Haworthia are tricky to identify, and I admit to not trying that all that hard. They tend toward a lot of similar subspecies and varieties, not to mention crosses with both Aloe and Gasteria. I lose patience trying to pinpoint what's what.

Five new bowls, three mixed, two with a single species

Haworthia limifolia var ubomboensis, (bottom) and xAlworthia 'Black Gem,' (top left) both acquired in trade, share this bowl with a NoId plant

Haworthia gracilis, (or some subspecies thereof) at the top, and a NoId

A variegated plant that I think is some form of Haworthia attenuata

From the bottom left: Haworthia limifolia, something that is probably a Gasterhaworthia, and at the top, a complete NoId

Yet another unidentified variety

I enjoy adding mineral specimens to each bowl as decorative elements, along with the aquarium gravel I use as top dressing. I now have a total of nine bowls, and that number will probably increase, as several of my older plantings need to be divided due to new growth, and there are always new plants waiting to be snapped up.

What's a Blogger to Do...

2010-09-24T13:15:00.026-05:00

...when she's stuck for a topic? It seems that in the last couple of weeks, nothing particularly interesting has been happening here among the leaves. The succulents outdoors are soaking up their last few days of sunshine before they are brought in for the season. The outdoor garden is winding down. The houseplants indoors are looking happy, but for the most part aren't blooming or putting out any noteworthy new growth. Fortunately, none of my plants are experiencing setbacks or infestations or anything bad either, so I can't really complain. My schedule hasn't allowed for much plant-shopping or conservatory visits recently. Most frustratingly, for some reason, my creative juices just aren't flowing when it comes to thinking up interesting topics to blog about.

So what am I going to do? Rather than waiting for either my plants or my brain to jump start themselves, while the interval between posts grows ever longer, I went looking through my photo collection. I found a few plant pictures that I like, but somehow didn't make it into previous posts.

Anemone at the Chicago Botanic Garden, from April. I entered a similar photo in the CBG's spring contest, then discovered that two other people had entered shots of the same flower. I guess we pretty much canceled each other out.

Variegated Hoya carnosa leaves, from the smaller of my two plants

Aechmea 'Blue Tango' from the CBG

Epipremnum 'Marble Queen' cuttings, rooting in water, the result of a pruning mishap. I meant to cut off one stem, and somehow ended up removing several. These have since rooted and been potted up.

Helenium variety, from my garden

Cissus discolor, climbing up some sort of utility pole at the Lincoln Park Conservatory. This plant is on my "never-again" list, but will always love it.

x Gastworthia 'Royal Highness' from the CBG. At least that is what the tag said. The pictures of Gasterworthia/Gasterhaworthia 'Royal Highness' I've seen on the web have thicker leaves, and aren't variegated.

Another from the CBG. Unidentified Sempervivum displayed as a companion plant to a large bonsai.

Seed grown Linum perenne, (Flax) from my garden this past June

My Crassula 'Campfire' in its bold summer coloration

And finally,

I've got my eye on you

(As always, click pictures for larger versions. I recommend it for the Hoya, Helenium and Crassula, and maybe for the Gaster-whatever and Anemone as well.)

Late Bloomers

2010-09-20T21:17:00.001-05:00

Well, I totally let this month's Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day (September 15) get by me. But in in the spirit of "better late than never" I'd like to share what's in flower, indoors and out, anyway.

I'm surprised that my Asclepias tuberosa is still blooming intermittently; last year it was done in mid-August, if I recall correctly.

Asclepias seed pods with a pair of Oncopeltus fasciatus, Large Milkweed Bug.

I was able to rejuvenate one of my Rudbeckia hirta plants by cutting off the spent blossoms, causing a bit of late-season back budding. In the background are some weedy wild Asters. I allow several these to stay in my garden because they make nice filler plants in the fall.

Clematis ternifolia or Sweet Autumn Clematis. Believe it or not, there is actually a trellis under that mound of flowers and foliage. I planted both Clematis 'Jackmanii' and the C. ternifolia at the base of my trellises, so I get two season of bloom, with the former flowering in June, and the latter in late August through September.

View with both trellises. The C. ternifolia vines actually trail across the Buddleia planted between them.

Symphyotrichum novae-angliae, (aka Aster novae-angliae or New England Aster). This beautiful plant came up out of nowhere in my garden last year. I have never planted a New England Aster, as I almost never see them for sale around here. So I have no idea where it came from. The nurseries usually carry numerous cultivars of Symphyotrichum novi-belgii (New York Aster.)

Same plant, closer....

And closer still.

I'm still getting a few flowers on my Hibiscus moscheutos

It's life among the weeds in my backyard. This volunteer morning glory (Ipomoea species) came up a few feet from the planter box where I had grown morning glories last year.

Pelargonium behind my Sansevieria hallii. The new Sans leaf that emerged this spring (second from the right) is now the largest on the plant.

Crassula caput minima

Sansevieria ballyii, the only plant actually blooming inside right now

I will try to remember next month's Bloom Day, which coincides with the average first frost day around here, and hope that I will have something still blooming to share.

Capricorne Ascendant

2010-09-18T17:15:00.008-05:00

I'm very fond of the genus Astrophytum. For one thing, I find its members easy to identify, which is rare for me when it comes to cactus. For another thing, they are interesting-looking plants, often quite uncactus-like, which is probably why I find them easy to recognize. In addition, there are relatively few Astrophytum species (six, according to one book I read) which also helps me keep track. That also makes it easy to collect them all, if one limits oneself to the basic species. (There are a lot of really fancy cultivated varieties out there. Some of them are absolutely gorgeous. Others look overbred and precious, at least in my opinion.) So far, I have an A. ornatum, an A. asterias, and an A. capricorne. I have been thwarted twice by Astrophytum myriostigma, which insisted on rotting and dying. Both plants got cool and wet simultaneously, which is a Very Bad Thing for cactus in general.

Of the species, Astrophytum capricorne, is one with a more typically cactus-like appearance.

Astrophytum capricorne, also known as Goat's Horn cactus, with its tangled topknot of spines.

This week my A. capricorne gave me one more reason to appreciate it: It bloomed for the first time.

Flower starting to open

A. capricorne in flower. This is as open as the flower got. For one thing, I think it would be difficult for it to open wider, as its base was surrounded by a virtual cage of thorns. For another, the weather has been cloudy and a bit rainy for the past couple of days, which can put a damper on cactus flowers.

Fully open or not, it was a lovely flower, quite a bit larger than those I had seen on my Astrophytum asterias. The red and yellow coloration was richer, too.

Closed, spent blossom rising above the spines

Actually, I was quite surprised that it flowered at all, as I thought it was still an immature plant. For one thing, it had very few spines when I bought it a few years ago. It has only been in the past year that they've started to look like they mean business. For another, the plant hasn't increased in size very much. It has been in this 2.5 inch pot since I brought it home.

Bird of Paradise, and Art Among the Leaves

2010-09-14T15:35:00.003-05:00

I own two Bird-of-Paradise plants, one Strelitzia nicolai, aka White Bird of Paradise, named for its white flowers, and Strelitzia reginae, which has the more familiar orange flowers. Because they are indoor plants, I do not expect to see them flower anytime soon. The brightest light I can provide for them indoors is bright enough for them to grow nice foliage, but I'm sure that it is not bright enough for blooming.

Previously posted picture of my Strelitzia reginae. I grew this from seed in 2003 or 2004, so I suppose it is still a bit immature for blooming, even if I had better light for it. This is the first season I didn't put it outside for the summer. I plan to do so in the future, as I believe that is the best way to induce it to flower, if indeed it ever will.

Strelitzia nicolai, center. As I understand it, these almost never flower in the home, regardless of conditions, but are great foliage plants. Peppermint (bottom right) finds it, like all plants, unworthy of his interest.

But even if my plants refuse to cooperate, I do get to enjoy one Strelitzia flower in my home:

Bird in Paradise, 1996, by my husband Bob. The flower was drawn from life; the background landscape is drawn from his imagination.

When we first got together, Bob had this colored-pencil work in storage in the basement, as for some reason, he wasn't particularly fond of it. But I loved it from the first time I saw it, so he had it matted and framed, and now it hangs outside the door to our bedroom, in our upstairs hallway. Our home is filled with his artwork, and my plants, and I love it when they complement each other in this way.

And this past week, I finally got to see a blooming BOP plant in person. A specimen in the Chicago Botanic Gardens Tropical Greenhouse had a solitary bloom.

Strelitzia reginae flower. Though I have seen them in tropical bouquets, this is the first time I've seen one attached to a plant.

Full plant from the CBG. Much taller than my S. reginae, but much shorter than my S. nicolai.

More of Bob's artwork can be seen here, on our family website. A post featuring his stained glass work, juxtaposed with my houseplants, can be found by clicking the "Art" label at the end of this post.

Just Chillin'

2010-09-12T10:47:00.003-05:00

Since my cats no longer go outdoors, I seem to have fewer opportunities to photograph them with plants, so there have been fewer opportunities to make weekend pet posts. On the plus side, we also have fewer opportunities to chase live birds, field mice, and chipmunks out of our house, and even better, fewer opportunities to clean up dead ones, either in the house, or outside on the porch.

Another plus side is that I get to see things like this:

Meet Chippie, most likely, Tamias striatus, (Eastern chipmunk) though there are several other possibilities.

Closer view. It is hard to get high quality pictures, since Chippie will flee if I get too close, but this one is pretty good if clicked for full-size.

Chippie has taken to sitting on top of our garden fairy quite frequently, sometimes just hanging out, other times making a loud persistant "chip-chip-chip" sound. Chippie's burrow appears to be under our porch, as there is a hole nearby. We have been wondering if he or she is looking for a new mate, since unfortunately, one of Peppermint's last victims before he became an indoor kitty was another chipmunk, which he left on the porch.

I know I shouldn't like this critter, since like squirrels, they also dig up and eat bulbs. Also, earlier this summer, there was evidence of digging in one of the Hibiscus pots. (I replaced the soil, and there has been no further tampering, even though the Hibiscus are still nearby, as seen in the photographs.) But I'm quite fond of Chippie in a way, and in fact, I'm a bit concerned, since I haven't seen him or her since these pictures were taken last Wednesday.

Edited to add 9/12/10, 2:55PM: Just saw Chippie perched on top of the fairy, as usual.

Decline and Fall--Not Necessarily

2010-09-09T16:45:00.006-05:00

As I've noted before, I don't put very many of my non-succulent houseplants outdoors. I try to choose plants that will do well indoors year-round, so I can always have a house full of plants. I might have mentioned this before, but one of the saddest things I've ever read on the Garden Web forums was a post by a woman who was lamenting that she had to bring her plants indoors in the fall. They had been doing so well outdoors over the summer, and she was dreading having to watch their inevitable, dramatic decline over the winter. But a major decline is not inevitable if one chooses houseplants wisely in the first place. A plant that is happy with the available indoor conditions will not need to go outside, and if it does, will not decline drastically when brought back indoors.

That said, I do put a few houseplants outdoors in summer. A couple are just out there for decorative purposes, like my Norfolk Island Pine:

Araucaria heterophylla dressing up my front porch

Others I put outside because, I admit, they are exceptions to my rules. A couple aren't well-suited to my indoor conditions, despite my best intentions, and need a rejuvenating vacation outdoors. There are also a couple of plants, which despite being okay with their places inside, are "problem" or ailing plants. For those, a bit of natural rainfall, fresh air and summertime humidity will usually turn them around.

Hedera helix, Fatsia japonica, and Dracaena reflexa 'Song of India.' The ivies and the Fatsia are outdoors because I think that fresh air and cooler night temperatures discourage spider mites. The Dracaena is just there because I like how it looks.

This Aspidistra elatior variegata was in the ailing plant category. I was perplexed by its failure to thrive, which I couldn't attribute to poor conditions or insects, so I put it under a tree and hoped for the best. It seems to be doing better.

In one of my earliest blog posts, I recounted the tale of "Foxy," my Asparagus myersii (Foxtail Fern.) Well, Foxy also spent the summer outdoors, in the hopes that it will continue to bounce back after its major pruning last fall. Maybe someday, it will regain its former size and beauty, and I'll have to start the process all over again.

Above, two pictures of Foxy, the Asparagus myersii.

Another small Asparagus that I cut back, and is now rejuvenating itself

Alpinia zerumbet variegata. I admit to abusing this poor plant this past winter, shoving it under lights in the basement, and frequently allowing it to get too dry. It has also recuperated nicely, and I've promised it a favored spot in a west window this winter, and plenty of water.

Tradescantia pallida, hanging around in my maple tree, just because. It was fine indoors, but I decided to put it out last month for its decorative value.

As autumn approaches, I will, of course, be bringing them back in. The Asparagus, Fatsia and Hedera helixes will stay out for quite some time yet, as they can handle a touch of frost. But when they do come in, I do not expect a dramatic decline from any of them.

It's Obesum's Turn--I Think

2010-09-03T09:43:00.006-05:00

I own two Adenium plants. One has shiny leaves, the other has matte leaves with a somewhat velvety texture to their undersides. I originally thought that the one with the matte leaves was Adenium obesum, and the one with shiny leaves was something else, possibly Adenium arabicum. Now, after some confusing reading, I think that it is the other way around. (More or less--they could each be hybrids of one or both, with maybe a third species thrown into the mix. At this point I'm ready to say "whatever." )

Anyway, I've had them for a few years, and I've been a bit rough on them. One winter, I kept them in a warm but not very sunny spot, and they lost their leaves until spring. The next winter I tried them under fluorescent lights in my cool-ish basement, and they held on to their leaves until I got a little lax in my watering. This past winter I put them on a sunny windowsill in my kitchen where I could keep an eye on them, and tried my best to water more regularly. They never lost all of their leaves, but they started to look a little straggly, with browning or yellowing of the leaf edges, by February, when I pruned them.

Despite my less-than-optimum care, they always bounced back, and looked attractive during the spring and summer. Neither one has ever put out more than a flower or two, and they seem to do so in alternate years. Last year, it was the (putative) A. arabicum's turn, this year the A. obesum (supposedly) is blooming.

My Adeniums: Shiny and in bloom on the left; matte and not blooming on the right.

The flower, and a neighboring bud, a little closer

My plan for this winter is to switch them into plastic pots. Although Adeniums do have a semi-deciduous nature, I think my leaf loss problems were mostly due to erratic watering. Plastic pots, which can be more water-retentive than clay, might help with that. I do think that the kitchen in the sun is better than the basement under lights. Not only is the basement a bit cooler than they might prefer, but I don't go down there daily, and I might not notice that they are too dry until too late.

Tropical and Temperate Beauty

2010-08-31T12:13:00.002-05:00

It's been a good year for Hibiscus here among the leaves. I don't usually have serious problems with my Hibiscus rosa-sinensis plants. Oh, there was that attack of aphids a couple of years ago. And there was some serious leaf loss due to underwatering last winter. But with diligent use of insecticidal soap, and a good pruning, all turned out well. They bloom sporadically during their cool months indoors, and more regularly during their summer outdoors.

Hibiscus rosa-sinensis 'Carolina Breeze' enjoying summer on my front stoop.

The cold-hardy garden plant Hibiscus moschuetos is usually another story. Oh, mine grows vigorously enough every year, but it is also the Japanese beetle magnet from hell. While those voracious little demons (Popillia japonica) will eat almost anything, they do especially love the Malvaceae, the family to which Hibiscus belong. They are also particularly drawn to white flowers, which my particular H. moschuetos has. (Alcea, aka hollyhocks, are also in the Malvaceae, and the beetles go after them as well. Strangely, they tend to leave 3 out of my 4 H. rosa-sinensis alone. They do like my peach double-flowered Hibiscus, which has thinner, more tender leaves than the other three.)

So this year, I planned to get rid of the H. moschuetos, since I never got to enjoy the flowers without those nasty bugs crawling all over them. I cut it down to within a few inches of the ground in May or June, with plans to dig it out later. But I never got around to doing so, and the plant started to grow back. This year's beetle season turned out to be quite light, so the foliage remained relatively untouched. And because bud formation was delayed due to the drastic pruning, the plant is just coming into bloom now, instead of its usual bloom time of early August. (The peak of the beetle season is generally July through mid-August in my area, though in heavy infestation years, it can start earlier and go much later. )

Hibiscus moschuetos, cultivar unknown. The photograph doesn't fully capture the tinge of pink at the edges of the petals.

I'm thrilled that for once, I get to fully enjoy both types of Hibiscus in my garden.

I'm Going to Miss Them

2010-08-29T19:30:00.002-05:00

One of the things I really like about the northwest suburbs of Chicago is that it is a nursery-rich area. I greatly miss living in the New York metropolitan area, (it will always be Home) but I have to admit that when it comes to places to buy houseplants, suburban New York is somewhat lacking.

So one of the first things I did, once I became comfortable finding my way around on my own here in Illinois, was to check out the various nurseries in the outlying areas. In 2004, I discovered Geimer's Greenhouses, in Long Grove. I will never forget the first time I walked in. They had a nice selection of houseplants, but what really floored me was the array of cacti and succulents. I had never seen so many for sale in one place in my entire life. The variety was impressive as well. They had things I had previously only seen offered for sale by specialty mail-order companies. Sansevieria species other than S. trifasciata. Lots of Haworthia varieties. Succulent Peperomias. Euphorbias. Okay, some of the larger plants were out of my price range. But there were reasonably priced smaller plants as well. That first day, I purchased an Aloe juvenna, a mystery Aloe that might possibly be Aloe sinkatana, a Peperomia dolabriformis and Sansevieria ballyi. After that, I made it a habit to visit Geimer's at least three times a year, (Long Grove is a bit too far from home for frequent casual shopping ) and I never left empty-handed.

Mystery Aloe, possibly Aloe sinkatana, purchased in 2004. I don't really care what it is; this is my favorite of the Aloes that I own. This photograph is from last summer, but the plant is still going strong. When I purchased it, the main stem was about the size of the two pups seen here, and the pups were just getting started.

The Sansevieria masonia on the left, the dark Sansevieria trifasciata variety at the rear center, and the Sansevieria kirkii var kirkii to the right are all from Geimer's. (The S. kirkii var pulchra 'Coppertone' in front was purchased elsewhere.)

Well, on Thursday, I decided to stop by on the way home from the Chicago Botanic Gardens, and discovered, to my dismay, that Geimer's will be closing as of Labor Day. Apparently, they hadn't been doing well enough lately to be able to renew their lease, and announced their upcoming closing last spring. Somehow, I missed this information when I visited in spring and early summer. Statement from their website here. If you click through to their gallery page, there is a picture of their succulent selection near the bottom. That is what I saw when I first walked into the place six years ago.

Ten plants purchased from Geimer's on Thursday. I purchased eight of them for under thirty dollars, (full price would have been nearly $100) then went back and purchased two more (The Sansevieria parva on the far left, and the grey Euphorbia mammillaris to its right). Also pictured, Sansevieria dawei, Agave victoria-reginae, Aloe nobilis (I think) and Sansevieria kirkii var kirkii. (Yes, I just had to have another one.) There are also yet-to-be identified Gasteria, Haworthia, Ledbouria and Crassula varieties shown.

When the cashier commented on my considerable savings, I said that I would be have been happy to pay full price if it meant that they were staying open. And I really meant it. I've only known Geimer's Greenhouse for 6 of their 82 years, and I wish it could have been more.

I've Been a Naughty Plant Lady

2010-08-24T11:19:00.010-05:00

Earlier this summer, I vowed that I would go on a six-month plant buying hiatus, starting the day after my birthday, July 16.

Well, I made it for about a month. A lot of little things in my personal life have been getting me down lately, and frankly, plant retail therapy, while not a cure, is definitely palliative. Besides, now is the time when nurseries put their annuals on sale. And as savvy shoppers know, several plants sold as annuals are actually tropical perennials in disguise. So in the past few days, I purchased these:

According to the tag this is Iresine herbstii 'Aureo Lime Green,' which I suppose is a variation of Iresine herbstii aureo-reticulata. Sold by a local nursery as an "annual" for containers, these make decent houseplants with lots of light and regular watering.

Closer view. I love the contrast between the variegated leaves and the shocking pink stems.

Another "annual," variegated Tradescantia pallida

A replacement for the Hedera helix 'Goldheart' I lost to spider mites last winter. This was actually the plant that broke the hiatus, about two weeks ago. I tried to convince myself that replacing a plant didn't really count as buying something new.

The following plants aren't naughty, since I purchased them before the original cut-off date. I just hadn't gotten around to showing them off until now.

According to its tag, this is Aloe 'Fire Ranch' If you click for the larger view, you can see the nice red teeth, though I think the name is actually for its red and orange flowers.

Aloe 'Wamsley's Bronze' variegated, according to the seller.

This aloe, an eBay auction win, arrived with its rootball almost completely severed from the stem, due to a less-than-stellar packing job by the seller. I told him I wasn't going to ask for a refund immediately, since I thought I could reroot it, and he said to let him know if that didn't work out. (I still think he should have offered a refund regardless of the outcome, but c'est la vie.) It did root, surprisingly quickly, and is even putting out a new pup. I also won the Huernia below from the same seller, and it arrived undamaged in the same package.

Huernia zebrina ssp zebrina, nicely colored in the sun

I had a better experience with my next eBay transaction. I won the auction for the Aloe dorothea, and the seller included the lightly variegated Aloe brevifolia as a free bonus. (She had been selling a more strongly variegated A. brevifolia in another auction.)

Aloe dorothea

Aloe brevifolia. There are faint lines of variegation in some of the leaves. One leaf had a bigger area of variegation, which seems to have gotten lightly sunburned.

I've decided to abandon the idea of a buying hiatus for now, because being naughty has, quite frankly, been quite nice.

Not Forgotten

2010-08-19T10:07:00.005-05:00

It seems that lately, most of my posts have either been about my succulents, or my outdoor garden. This is probably because I'm a summertime girl, and I try to spend as much time outdoors as possible. This doesn't mean that I've forgotten about my leafy tropicals. As I've noted before, most of these stay indoors year round. I grow houseplants because I like having plants inside my house. Carting them all outside for a significant part of the year would defeat that purpose.

One thing that always pleases me is having my Monstera deliciosa produce new leaves, which it doesn't do too often. Considering how huge the plant is already, this is probably not a bad thing. (Click on the "Monstera" label to see previous posts that show just how huge.)

Two freshly opened Monstera deliciosa leaves

In looking over my previous posts about this plant, I realize that I never wrote about the attack of scale insects that it suffered last year. I am happy to report that it responded well to treatment, which consisted of removing a couple of the most seriously infested leaves, wiping away visible scale with alcohol-soaked cotton pads, the application of a systemic insecticide to the soil, and periodic misting with an alcohol and water mixture for a few weeks. I was devastated to find the insects, and relieved that I managed to rid the plant of them. I am not a fan of strong insecticides like the imidacloprid formula I used, but I have a sentimental attachment to this plant, as it is the most successful houseplant I ever grew from seed.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, August 2010

2010-08-15T13:07:00.008-05:00

Once again, I am happy to participate in Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day. August is a bit of a slow month for blooms in my garden. The flowers of June and July have faded, and the September show of Sedums, Asters, and Sweet Autumn Clematis have not yet begun. And since I tend to grow my houseplants more for foliage and form than flowers, there is not a lot going on there either. But I do have a few things to share.

Indoors:

Aglaonema 'Sethimankong' with its greenish spathe-and-spadix flower

Aglaonema 'Siam Aurora' The white flower stands out against the red-patterned leaves. There is an old spadix visible as well.

Gymnocalycium stenopleurum bud just shy of opening. Photographs of a fully open flower can be seen here, in a post from last October.

Outdoors:

Coreopsis verticillata 'Zagreb'

Salvia nemorosa 'East Friesland.' My older plants are pretty much spent, but the ones I planted in a new bed this spring are still going.

Rudbeckia fulgida 'Goldsturm'

Weigela florida 'Red Prince' June's big show of blooms is long past, but a few new flowers pop up all summer.

I have self-sown Hollyhocks (Alcea rosea) every year; the original planting was in 2005, I think.

Delosperma dyeri cultivar

Container planted with Portulaca grandiflora

A recently purchased Echinacea 'Harvest Moon' planted in a new bed we've made in our backyard. The Echinacea varieties elsewhere in the garden are looking a bit weathered at this point, since they've been in bloom for more than a month.

Here's hoping that every day is a happy bloom day for my fellow gardeners.

Upsides, Downsides, and an Update

2010-08-11T11:05:00.007-05:00

I live in a relatively new subdivision. One of the downsides to this, so I thought, was the relative lack of mature trees, both as street trees and in people's yards. I like neighborhoods full of graceful, mature shade trees. However, there are a couple of upsides to this. For one, much of my front yard is in full sun, the better to grow the types of annuals, perennials and bulbs I enjoy most. I'll get to the other upside in a moment.

Swath of Crocuses in my garden from last March. There is a reason why I'm reposting this unseasonal picture, which will become clear later.

Since we no longer have dogs, we've been able to seal off our doggie door to the outside. This means that our cats, which we intended to be indoor pets in the first place, cannot let themselves outdoors at will. The major upsides to that are that we don't have to worry about our cats being endangered by traffic, or having encounters with dangerous animals. (We have raccoon and foxes around, and a coyote was spotted once, several years ago.) The second major upside is that we don't have to worry about the cats having encounters with animals to which they are dangerous. Over the years, Luke and Peppermint have brought in numerous birds, mice, chipmunks and baby rabbits, some alive, some dead. The dead ones were distressing enough, but capturing and freeing the living creatures was always a frustrating task. The downside to the loss of the doggie door, is, of course, that it came about due to the deaths of Jenny and Laces, who we miss very much. But there is also a downside to not letting the cats out, which will follow.

Closer view of some of my favorite Crocuses.

The other upside to the lack of mature trees, which I was alluding to above, is that we have had very few squirrels in our neighborhood. The number has been slowly increasing over the years however, which leads to the downside of not having cats patrol our yard. With Luke, and especially Peppermint, no longer giving chase, at least one squirrel has found our yard to be a safe place to hang out, which has led to this:

Holes where at least one squirrel has dug up and consumed a number of crocus bulbs. In the second picture, with the two holes, you can see the debris from the consumed bulbs. These shots are from the same place as the drift of crocuses in the first picture I posted. I'll have to do some replanting if I want to have a nice display of flowers to herald the arrival of spring.

Since I don't want to resort to inhumane methods, I've been spreading blood meal (a readily available fertilizer) in the beds where the crocuses are planted. This, supposedly, will discourage squirrels from digging in those areas. I also lost my patience the other day, and threw a couple of rocks in the general direction of a squirrel who was hanging out in my maple tree. I wasn't aiming to hit him; I was trying to scare him away, which it did, at least for a while. It upsets me that I feel this way; I used to like squirrels, honest.

And on a cheerier note, the update:

Thelocactus lloydii in bloom

I posted a picture of this cactus shortly after I purchased it, last May. Since it has been outdoors this summer, it has bloomed three times, the third of which was the other day.

Possible Identification of "Mom's Plant"

2010-08-06T21:25:00.002-05:00

In a February, I made post about my uncanny ability to zero in on, and purchase Mammillarias, despite preferring cactus with showier blooms. In that post, I wrote about a cactus that I could never seem to identify, a gift from my mother. Here is what I wrote then:

"About ten years ago, my mother took a trip to Las Vegas. As a side excursion, she and her friends also visited the Grand Canyon. At a gift shop nearby, she spotted a tiny plant in a tiny pot with "Grand Canyon" handpainted on the side and decided to pick it up for her plant-loving daughter. She flew home to New York with it in her purse. (Can you imagine what airport security would say if you tried to put a cactus in your carry-on these days?) She told me "I thought you'd like this to go with your other cactuses." The thing is, I didn't have any other cactuses, and the only succulents I owned were some Sansevierias. My apartment had obstructed west windows, and wasn't sunny enough for succulents. But I was determined to keep my gift alive and well. I balanced the little pot directly on the top of a window sash, right near the lock, so it would get the most sunlight possible. Three years later, when I moved to Illinois, it was still alive and moved with me. In its first summer outdoors, it bloomed. It had kind of nondescript, straw-colored flowers, but I loved them anyway. It is in a bigger pot now, but it still spends winters on top of a window sash, for optimum light, and it blooms every year....

I've never been able to identify it, despite asking in a couple of different forums and poring over picture after picture. It is small, solitary and plain. But I will always treasure it. My mom died suddenly last year, so it is now something special to remember her by. It gave me great pleasure to be able to show it to her in bloom in 2005 when she visited me here in Illinois. And I'll always smile when I think about her with a cactus in her purse."

Well, I now think I know what it is: Mammillaria formosa subsp. microthele.

Mom's plant, just beginning to bloom, this week. It will eventually have a ring of these small, pinkish flowers. (This photo is especially large when opened in a new window.)

Its solitary growth habit thus far is what was throwing me off, I think. Most pictures I've seen show it forming a clump of several heads.

But, ID or no ID, I will always treasure this plant.

In Praise of Succulents: Euphorbia edition

2010-08-04T19:25:00.002-05:00

In a post from last November, called An Unexpected Favorite, I shared my thoughts on my largest Euphorbia lactea. I also mentioned that I find Euphorbias in general fascinating, and a little scary, what with their often vicious spines and equally vicious (and viscous) sap. But I delight in their dangerousness, not unlike girls who go for bad boys. And like certain so-called bad boys, who are real sweethearts once you get them home, these have all been a pleasure to have around the house.

The Euphorbia lactea that I wrote about previously. The non-crested portion of the plant continues to grow at a much more rapid pace than the crest. I have finally noticed some growth in the crest this summer.

Another view of the same plant on the porch along with the NoId Euphorbia I wrote about last week, and two small crested E. lactea. At least I think the pinkish one is an E. lactea.

Euphorbia milii. There are two different varieties in one pot. As seen here, the variety with the darker, more rounded leaves has pink flowers. The plant with the longer paler leaves has bi-colored flowers that are predominately yellow.

Known in my household as the "Evil Pointy Plant of Death" my Euphorbia tortirama, here and below, is currently in bloom.

I took particular delight in taking some pictures of Euphorbias during my last few trips to the Chicago Botanic Gardens:

Euphorbia abyssinica variegata, the full plant in all its convoluted glory above, and a closeup below.

I'm sorry that I didn't note the name of this species, but I love its variegation, which can be seen more easily here below. The flowers in both pictures are from a nearby Aloe. Edited to Add 9/9/10: I saw the tag today. The plant is Euphorbia pseudocactus.

Last, and certainly not least, is a Euphorbia lactea crest that puts my little plants to shame.

Of course, I haven't had 100 percent success with Euphorbias; I've lost both Euphorbia obesa and Euphorbia suzannae in the past. But those small setbacks have left me eager to try both again in the future.

Outdoor Gardening: The Heebie Jeebies

2010-07-31T17:05:00.006-05:00

When my husband and I talk about welcoming insect life into our garden we are usually thinking of something like this:

Monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus) and Buddleia davidii cv.

We are also open to seeing something like this:

Rudbeckia hirta 'Prairie Sun' with unidentified spider. (Yes, I know that spiders aren't insects. Bear with me here.)

What we definitely didn't have in mind is this:

Bald-faced hornet (Dolichovespula maculata) nest hidden in our Weigela florida 'Red Prince' shrub row. If you enlarge the picture, you can see a few actual hornets. I do not necessarily recommend this.

The thing was the size of a soccer ball, and shall we say, buzzing with activity. What frightens me is that last week, before we noticed the nest, I was weeding nearby. At one point I nearly lost my balance when pulling up a particularly recalcitrant thistle. Had I actually fallen backward, there is a good chance I would have fallen into the nest. I'll let you know when I stop shuddering.

Needless to say, we called professionals to have the nest removed.