Random plant event: Salvia 'Victoria Blue' freak

This just sort of appeared in one of the flats; I don't remember seeing any of the plugs looking like this when we were planting them up. It's not especially attractive, but it is different.


This may be a viral thing, in which case the prudent course of action would be to take it out and destroy it, but it doesn't seem to be hurting the plant significantly, either. I mean, maybe it's a little shorter than the plants around it, but that could be from anything.

If it weren't from a virus, but was instead an actual genetic mutation of some kind, would it be interesting to home gardeners? Would you want a six pack of them?

Pretty picture: Paeonia 'Hoki'

People seem to like peonies, and I guess I kind of understand -- the flowers are very big and showy -- but I'm not much of a fan personally. Our neighbor had one when I was growing up, and I found it kind of unnerving as a child to see ants crawling all over the unopened buds all the time. (According to the Heartland Peony Society, the ants are neither good nor bad, just attracted to small amounts of nectar produced by the flowers, which may or may not enlist the ants' help in opening the tight and petal-dense buds. When the buds are finished, the ants find new food sources.)

Still, though, there are worse things than ants. And the flowers are pretty.

Misc.

I've added three worthy new blogs to the sidebar for everyone to check out:

Daffodil Planter, which I first noticed when it happened to be on a list at Blotanical right next to PATSP, and checked out because it claimed to be funny (it was). Particularly recommended is Are you one of these difficult garden center customers?, because it's really really really timely this month, and also funny. I wish I could print a copy and stick it on the front door at work, and make customers read it before coming in. But I can't do that.

Callus and Chlorophyll, which is less frequently updated but also funny, which I found out about because DaffodilPlanter sent me a message through Blotanical that I should check C&C out.

Random Rants and Prickly Plants, added because Claude left a comment on the post this morning, prompting me to check out his profile and then his blog, reminding me that I'd intended to add RR&PP to the blogroll at some point a long time ago and then forgot.

In unrelated news, I bought three six-packs of the above marigold (Tagetes patula 'Durango Bee') yesterday. I was originally planning to put them in a large pot with an elephant ear (Colocasia?) and call it good, but now I'm thinking maybe something else should go with the elephant ear, and the marigolds should get planted elsewhere. Probably some form of the original plan, in the end, 'cause I don't have enough time to think about other options. I'm just hoping I can keep everything alive until I have time to get it to the house and plant it.

My just-received copy of Wicked Plants, being held by the (poisonous) Pedilanthus tithymaloides.
I also just got my copy of Wicked Plants. So far, houseplants appear to be somewhat underrepresented, but they do get pp. 27-29, which I suppose will have to do. Review to follow . . . eventually.

Friendly* critique

Thirteen things which are wrong with this article (be sure to see both pages!) about crotons (Codiaeum variegatum):


1) Crotons do not adapt well to indoor environments. The best you can hope for is that your indoor environment can be manipulated into something a croton finds satisfactory.

2) They do not "thrive" in winter months: if anything, they barely hold it together. Spider mites are what thrive, if anything is gonna be thriving.

3) They are not extremely easy plants to care for, and require a good bit more than weekly waterings in order to grow "healthy, tall, wide and strong." Weekly waterings will buy you tall. Maybe. For healthy, wide and strong you need air circulation, humidity, heat, and keen observation. Also: don't water on a schedule.

4)They do not thrive in both "dark and sunny conditions." Don't even try it if you don't have full sun to offer.

5) "The natural [as opposed to artificial] croton doesn't spurn flowers" makes the opposite point of what the author is trying to say. Spurning is roughly equivalent to rejecting. Possibly the author means "doesn't sport flowers." But that's wrong anyway: they do flower.


6) Whether something flowers or not really doesn't have anything to do with its appropriateness as a housewarming gift for recipients of either gender.

7) It makes a crappy housewarming gift, mainly because of articles like this one which try to claim that it's an easy-care plant, leading to confusion about what one is supposed to do with it, leading to the plant's eventual defoliation and death.

8) The leaves are not always large. Leaf size varies with the particular cultivar: the one below, for example, has very narrow, threadlike leaves.


9) The leaves are not always dark green and red. Some cultivars are only green and yellow; some are green, yellow, orange and red; some are purple, green and yellow; some are green and cream; some are red and purple. (They also don't especially resemble cabbage, but I'll let that slide because the author doesn't make that claim directly: she only says that they remind her of cabbage. I won't hold people responsible for what things remind them of other things.)

10) Silk crotons never have a "natural look" to them, except perhaps to people who are not well-acquainted with the natural plant.

11) The Croton Society webpage is more a placeholder than anything else, and provides little information on caring for the plant. It provides no information at all about caring for the plant indoors.


12) Crotons are not versatile. They are dependable, in that they reliably do the same thing once indoors (attract spider mites and die), but I don't think that's what the author intends to say.

13) "Reasonably priced" seems like a stretch too.

-

*(Not really. I'm actually kinda pissed.)

[Exceptionally] Pretty pictures: transmitted light -- Part X

The first weekend of May here was sunny and warm and all-around ideal for gardening, damn it all to hell. So there were customers everywhere, all weekend. Now I am exhausted, and I did something horrible to my back on Saturday that it is still angry about, and I'm not in such a great mood myself, as far as that goes. Fortunately, I have the transmitted light posts reserved for just such situations. So.

Ladies and gentlemen: transmitted light photography.

(The previous transmitted light posts can be found here.)

Cestrum nocturnum. We got some of these by mistake last winter (?), and although they did beautifully for quite a while, eventually they got spider mites and had to be cut way back. And then we sort of forgot about them, because spring started happening and nobody had time for them. In early May, as I write this, I believe they're probably still technically alive, though we don't know whether to put them out or not because we don't know whether they're done with the mites or not.

Pandanus utilis veitchii. This particular leaf has apparently been deprived of nitrogen or magnesium or something important: I thought for a while that the new leaves were coming in yellow because that's just how the plant grew (true to an extent), but then they didn't turn green upon getting older. Makes for a better picture (the greener, older leaves are pretty beat-up, and also more opaque), though I doubt the plant is happy about that.

Philodendron 'Prince of Orange.' This can be a really pretty plant when it's happy. I mean, Philodendrons in general, I suppose, but 'Prince of Orange' kind of in particular.

Cordyline fruticosa 'Florica.' Not my best photo, I know. But hey: color.

Tradescantia pallida. Also not my best photo. You have no idea how many times I tried on this one, though, before deciding that this was as good as it was going to get.

Pilea 'Moon Valley.' Again, not my best photo, but this one has the added distinction of being the most impossible-to-get picture from the series so far; something about the bumpy leaves makes it impossible for my camera to focus on them, plus they're so small that it's hard to be back far enough to get focus and simultaneously keep light from whatever light source I'm using from getting in the shot and making everything look all blue and faded. Also, of course, the light has to be coming from exactly overhead, or else the little bumps all reveal shadows, which could be an interesting effect but which is not at all the effect I was going for.

Stromanthe sanguinea 'Magicstar.' This one, on the other hand, is probably my favorite from this batch. My Stromanthes are doing better since I up-potted them, but for a while there they were just drying out too fast to keep up with. It's sort of one of the rules of living here: you have to be okay with occasionally having to wait a lot longer for water than you're accustomed to. This is kind of a disaster for Saintpaulia, Stromanthe, Hypoestes phyllostachya, Homalomena, and like-minded plants that prefer consistent moisture.

Dieffenbachia NOID. This is a cool but kind of understated Dieffenbachia that we haven't had very long at work, and it's quickly becoming one of my favorites, just because it looks like it has the potential to become a big huge one, like D. 'Tropic Rain.' I haven't seen anything like it on-line, so I have no idea what it's called.

Maranta leuconeura kerchoviana, variegated. Another picture that worked out kind of especially well. The plants aren't bad, either, actually.

Codiaeum variegatum NOID. This particular variety is not one I've seen very often, nor have I found a potential ID for it. It's kind of cool, just by virtue of being uncommon, I guess.

Pretty pictures: Dianthus cvv.

Very little time to write, and not a whole lot of comments spring to mind on these anyway. They're in full bloom, though. Although I've seen more than once the "clove-like" fragrance referred to, and although I've smelled the fragrance, I'm not sure where the "clove-like" comes from. They don't smell like cloves to me.

Random plant event: Anthurium andraeanum double spadix

Apologies to those five or so readers to whom I owe e-mails. You're on the list, and I'm working on it, but, well, I've mentioned that I'm busy, right?

This particular flower is both a freak and a rescue. I bought it last September from Lowe's, because it looked like it was basically fine except for having been drowned (this being, apparently, the only thing that Lowe's knows to do to a plant). Brought it home, cleaned off the roots as best as I could, repotted it in good new soil, and then watched as about 2/3 of the plant died. But it's come back.

I think it's maybe still a little traumatized, though:


I've seen double spathes before, on Anthurium as well as Spathiphyllum, but I think double spadixes (spadices?) is a first for me.

I give the plant points for at least trying to meet me halfway: it's clearly not quite got it together yet, but hey, it's trying. Maybe the next flower will be normal.

Or maybe it won't. I suppose it would be cool if I had a plant that always produced a double spadix.

Personal-ish: Marriage (Almost)

Front of the Iowa marriage license application. I got to be "Party B!"
I'm not a big fan of change, but if things are going to be changing anyway, then we may as well do all of it at once. (This is otherwise known as "As long as the noose is around my neck, I may as well jump off the horse" logic.)

The husband and I applied for a marriage license yesterday, though we are not going to be going forward with the actual ceremony immediately, because certain house-related things work out more neatly if we don't get married until after I'm done with my job. But this is kind of close enough for now anyway. Our apartment manager, who was also our real estate agent, graciously agreed (on really short notice) to serve as our witness¹ for the application, and consequently is so totally getting a houseplant or a flower arrangement or something.²

Back of the Iowa marriage license application. Note the "Competent and Disinterested Person" bit.)
The date is also significant.

On April 30, 1997, twelve years ago, a few minutes after the end of the much-hyped "Ellen" episode where Ellen officially came out as gay (even though everybody knew for like, months before, and were sick of hearing about it already by the time it aired), I called my parents and told them I am gay. This wasn't because I was especially bonded to Ellen DeGeneres or anything: I like her, and I had watched the show, which was funny enough as sitcoms went, but it wasn't like I felt that if Ellen was coming out then I had to as well. It was more just, it had been increasingly difficult to talk to Mom and Dad about anything that was going on in my life around that time: among other things, I'd just gotten back from an abortive 64-day move to DC, involving an ex who I'd not been entirely willing to think of as "ex" yet,³ and although I talked to Mom on the phone a lot, at least weekly, not being able to acknowledge the nature of our relationship -- or, increasingly, any of my other relationships -- made for some awkwardness.

The new house comes with a very large maple tree in the back. It indicates something or another about the property line, though we're not sure exactly what.
They took it better than anticipated, though it'd be a stretch to say they took it well. I was kind of a wreck before and after also, as far as that goes. Which is another story, for another time. The point being, that was the date. At that time, there was a little bit of talk about gay marriage in Hawaii, possibly, enough to scare people into passing Defense of Marriage Acts all over the place,⁴ but nobody seriously believed that it would be legal anytime soon.

This is what will eventually become the plant room. Originally a three-seasons room, we're going to try to add another season. Seasons, it turns out, are not cheap.
So there's been a lot of change already, I guess is my point. Fairly recently, a CBS poll showed a jump of nine percentage points in one month of respondents who favored full marriage equality, to 42% of the U.S. population, and an ABC poll this week came up with an even higher number, 49%. That would basically have been unthinkable to me twelve years ago: my expectation was that when I did get married, it would have to be a ceremony with no legal significance, and it'd be regarded as weird at best, offensive at worst. Instead, it looks like we're going to get the legal significance without the ceremony, and most people won't really give a crap. Which would be delightful.

By the way: the recorder who helped us with the application said that Monday (the first day same-sex couples could marry in Iowa) was pretty crazy for them, and Tuesday was nearly as bad, Wednesday was pretty slow, and then Thursday would have been slow except that everybody from Monday was coming back to pick up their licenses. We didn't see any other couples when we were there. She also said that they had sixteen or seventeen (I forget which) couples coming up from Missouri on a bus tomorrow to get married. Apparently then they'll go back to Missouri and say they're married and gin up a court case or two when they find some people in Missouri who don't recognize this. It's unfortunate that lawmakers don't seem particularly interested in considering the constitutionality of laws when they're making them, that everything has to go through this process of being challenged and sorted out, but better that than have legislators passing any old law that flits through their heads. That would be terrible.

I have an aunt and uncle who will be doing everything in their power (which is not very extensive, but still) to prevent the Missouri people's marriages from being recognized: I wish the various couples luck.

The previous owners' attempt at a garden. Nothing identifiable here. It makes me a little uneasy that they felt they had to fence it in: I'm developing a serious fear of rabbits all of a sudden. ("Bunnies! Bunnies! It must be bunnies!")
The actual official marriage will probably be in June, though I dislike the idea of having a June wedding (just 'cause everybody else does it: November or December are more my months, but that's a long time to wait). That's when my job will be over. It'll probably be really low-key and anticlimactic, but that's okay.

We do have some concerns, still, about moving to a small town (and by small, I mean small: under 1200 people). We'd really rather not be everybody's first married gay couple. I feel enough like a target as it is.⁵

We inherited these from the previous owners. Not really our style, I think.
So that's the last of the bombshells. Getting the marriage license was mostly just surreal. We'll be back to plant-related content tomorrow, though after all this it's going to seem awfully trivial, I'm afraid.

-

¹ Amusingly, the Iowa marriage application calls this role "Competent and Disinterested Person," rather than the clearer but less precise "witness." I would love to have a competent and disinterested person around at all times.
² Why her? Well, it turns out that there are not actually very many people who know both of us in the area, and even fewer who would conceivably be available on short notice to do something like this, for one thing, and for another thing, she has a gay brother in Vermont, who is I believe civil-unioned there and who will (one assumes) be getting married in September when Vermont starts doing that. So we were guessing that she's basically okay with the general concept. According to her husband, who I spoke to for a little bit this afternoon, she and her brother were sort of bragging on their respective states for being the third state to legalize (Iowa) or the first state to legalize legislatively, rather than judicially (Vermont), so one supposes participation in a gay wedding gives her more points from which to argue, or something. She didn't say, and we didn't really talk about it: she had other things to do.
³ The DC period was a miserable time, though the misery wasn't because of the ex. Culture shock, undiagnosed clinical depression (I'm pretty sure.), graduating college without any kind of plan for what to do next, a week of the flu, and various other things, but not really the ex so much.
⁴ Which I'd never known exactly what the DOMAs actually said until today: they're apparently primarily there to ensure that the states with DOMAs don't have to honor same-sex marriages performed in other states, even if they were legal in those other states. Some states have actually gone further and pre-emptively banned civil union sorts of arrangements as well. At this point, there's a law or constitutional amendment banning gay marriage in every state except New Mexico (hasn't passed anything one way or the other), Iowa/Connecticut/Massachusetts (have full marriage equality), Vermont (will have full marriage equality as of September), New York, DC, and Rhode Island (will honor marriages performed elsewhere), and New Jersey (has civil unions). Every other state prohibits SSM to some degree or another, though several states (WA, OR, CA, CO, HI, MD, NH, ME) have one set of laws approving some form of same-sex partnership and one set banning, simultaneously, which will need to be worked out at some point in the near future.
⁵ Not that people in small towns in Iowa can't also be perfectly accepting and friendly and everything else, or that big city folk are always live-and-let-live about everything: I've met one Iowa City resident who looked like your run of the mill sweet little old lady, but had a personality that could strip the paint off the walls, set the paint chips on fire, and then turn the ashes to poisonous snakes. It's just that small-towns are sort of known for everybody being all up in everybody else's business, and this is kind of a weird thing to walk into deliberately, given the circumstances.