Six Plants I'm Not Currently Mad At / Poll for the Hive Mind

Oh, Mr. Subjunctive, you silly goose, why do you have to be so negative all the time? Why phrase it as "plants I'm not currently mad at," instead of "plants I love," or "plants that are doing well," or something along those lines?

That's . . . a really good question. I'm pretty sure some of it is just that I'm a relentlessly negative person.¹ And there's also the issue that lots of other blogs use phrasings like "plants I love," and I'm trying to be different.

But there's also the issue of plant betrayal. In the seven or so years I've been doing this, I've been deliriously happy with any number of plants that later turned on me. Euphorbia trigona, once a darling, is now a constant struggle with fungus. Hoyas always seem to succumb to some kind of dramatic and sudden collapse.² Cordyline fruticosa never quite shook the spider mites. I miss one watering and the Episcias all collapse on me, or get devoured by caterpillars, or turn brown and dry out. That sort of thing. And I occasionally wind up looking at one of those older posts, where I'm talking about how delighted I am with a plant, and feel stupid, because I know that a few months or years later, I couldn't stand that plant anymore, or it was dead, or whatever.

Therefore, it needs a qualifier. I'm not mad at them at the moment. Three months from now? Anything could happen. This is a terrible attitude to have, but . . . .

I guess I have no conclusion to that sentence; it's just a terrible attitude. (I never promised to be inspirational.)

These six plants are also the leading candidates for the next plant profile, by the way. I have no strong preference about which I want to write about, so I figured I'd put it up for a vote. So be ready for that, at the end of the post.

Here we go. In no particular order:

1. Breynia disticha 'Roseo-Picta'

Breynia disticha turns out to be a very different plant if you let it spend a summer outside than it is if you make it stay indoors all summer taking violin lessons, or whatever it is you make your Breynias do. It's not that it was growing poorly for me inside, exactly, but it wasn't getting enough light to produce any variegated leaves, the branches were flopping over into all the plants around them,³ and it wasn't branching very much.

Once it went outside for a summer, though, all that changed. Faster growth, all sorts of color, branching -- almost everything turned around. The floppy branches are apparently just Breynia's thing, because that part didn't get any better. But still.

It had been a pretty good plant for me before this, too, as far as that goes. Aside from a brief and easily-won bout with spider mites, there have been no pest problems, and although it wilts dramatically whenever I'm the slightest bit late with the water, it always bounces right back once I give it a good soaking. I've propagated from cuttings a few times (difficult, but doable), humidity seems not to be a big issue, and it's even flowered for me once, not that the flowers are a particularly big deal.


2. Philodendron mexicanum

My original cutting of Philodendron mexicanum got too long to be manageable, so I chopped it up into two-node cuttings and rooted them in water. They all got busy building roots immediately, so now I have a pot with three plants in it, which is the one in the picture.

Like some other vining Philodendrons, P. mexicanum is maybe a little too enthusiastic for its own good (I'm already contemplating chopping up the original cutting again, and it hasn't been that long. A year, maybe?), but the leaves are really lovely (I neglected to choose a photo that shows the red-brown undersides, though if you're interested you can check out this post.), and it's easy to grow, as far as I can tell. Fairly weak artificial light, normal indoor temperatures and humidity, water every two to four weeks.

My only problem to date has been with thrips, of all things. They weren't that hard to get rid of, but they were surprisingly fond of the plant, and apparently used it as a species headquarters, from which they launched expeditions to the neighboring plants.


3. Beaucarnea recurvata

This is probably the most unexpected plant to land on this list. It's not that it was ever doing poorly, exactly; it's more that it's never done much of anything at all. The reason turned out to be pot size and light intensity: after five and a half years of leaving it alone, I repotted it and gave it some direct sun, and bam, new growth. Quite a bit of it, even. (I'm sad to think of how disappointed it will be this winter: I doubt I'll be able to spare a direct-sun spot once all the plants come in from outside.⁴)

Even without new growth, though, it was one of those plants I could depend on not to give me any drama. It was fine with the variable temperature in the plant room, it never got any pests, and if it was unpropagatable, it was at least durable.

The propagation thing is likely to continue to be a problem in the future, but otherwise, I feel like I may finally have figured Beaucarnea recurvata out.


4. Polyscias fruticosa

And then Polyscias fruticosa is probably the most obvious plant to go on the list. I've even been publicly happy with it in the past. I have some pretty serious concerns about it for the future,⁵ but right now, at this particular moment, all is well, and it's been thriving. I'm also pretty pleased with the cultivars I have ('Elegans' and 'Snowflake,' which is just variegated 'Elegans'), and have managed to propagate 'Elegans' a few times, albeit with some difficulty. They're all perfectly happy, and even pest-free (knock wood), so long as I give them some direct sun every day and don't get too unpredictable with the water (both too much and too little leads to defoliation, though too little seems to be worse).

The best part is that as it ages, the plant is developing a sort of Cousin Itt (or possibly Gossamer?) look, which I enjoy.


5. Scindapsus pictus

I have one main problem with Scindapsus pictus, which is that I tend to forget that it exists. Which is to say that whenever I'm listing plants in my mind, in whatever category, I never remember to include it.

It's a perfectly nice plant, as plants go. I treat it horribly: it's on a shelf a couple inches below other plants, which block most of the light. It gets air-conditioning blasted directly at it during the summer. I'm pretty sure the soil hasn't been changed since I bought it in July 2008. But no worries! Scindapsus just keeps plugging away, slowly building leaf after leaf, without complaining or getting bugs. It's the damnedest thing.

I've had an S. pictus many years ago that wasn't nearly as forgiving; this is far enough in the past that I couldn't guess what the problem might have been. So it's possible that I've just been bizarrely lucky for five straight years.

I have yet to attempt propagation, because it's not necessarily a plant I want more of. Maybe someday.


6. Stromanthe sanguinea cvv.

Finally, I continue to be impressed with Stromanthe sanguinea. I have two varieties of it, 'Triostar' (shown) and 'Magicstar,' both of which are much easier to grow than anything from the Marantaceae ought to be.

It's not perfect. There's an unfortunate tendency to develop spider mites, and there are limits to how large of a pot I can use here in the house, because the root systems are relatively shallow and rot-prone, so I can only up-pot for just so long before it's time to start over again with a freshly-propagated plant. Even so, being able to grow something this attractive at all is awfully cool. And when I need to propagate, it's always been game, which is a definite bonus.


So see? I can say nice things about the plants sometimes.




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¹ No. Really. I am. It's okay. I don't mind. Usually.
² Though it's possible that I'm on the verge of figuring that one out. All the Hoyas that have succumbed to Sudden Hoya Death Syndrome were also not getting any direct sun at the time of death. The cause-and-effect relationship is murky, but in the absence of any other leads, I'm thinking this must be the key, somehow.
³ Which was a problem, because the plants around the oldest and largest Breynia were mostly Euphorbia trigona. Top-heavy thorny plants shouldn't be placed next to floppy-branched leafy plants, as a rule: you wind up losing hours of your life trying to untangle them from one another.
⁴ Next summer, though: look out! I'm putting the Beaucarnea outside, and fully expect it to grow substantially before autumn arrives. A friend in town has a Beaucarnea that she puts outside every year, and it is amazing. (Had I been thinking, I'd have gotten a picture for you, but I wasn't.)
⁵ It's 1) a very big plant, with 2) brown, woody stems and 3) lots of delicately-cut leaves, living 4) in a room where scale has recently been discovered. If scale decided to take up residence there, I stand very little chance of catching the infestation early. I've added some pre-emptive imidacloprid to the soil, as well as to the soil of some of its neighbors, but if you look closely at the photo, you may be able to make out a faint aura of doom around the plant.

LOLPhilodendron

Haven't done any LOLplants for a while, but a reader e-mailed me this last week and I found it amusing, so here you go.

For those who don't know, this is an example of guttation. Guttation tends to freak out people who haven't seen it before, but by itself, it's harmless. The PATSP post about guttation can be read here.

Unfinished business: various

One of these again.

The first bit of unfinished business that I should bring up is the announcement I hinted at last Monday. I am really, no fooling, finally in the process of writing a book, as of Wednesday night.

I am doing it entirely wrong, of course. I have no idea whether it will wind up being a book. I have no publishing deals. I've not even talked to any publishers since a couple years ago, nor are there any plans to do so soon. And I don't know whether it will ever be for sale as a self-published thing either. I also don't know how long it's going to take me to write or how long it will be. Basically, I have no idea what I'm doing at all. But the thing is: I have been intending to write something for a very, very long time now. You're surely tired of hearing me say this; I'm definitely tired of saying it. And I haven't been writing anything, all this time, because I've been trying to get everything lined up properly in advance. What do I write about? How shall I format it? Should I try to write a book proposal up for a real publisher, or plan on self-publishing? Etc.

As of Wednesday, I am officially no longer caring about any of that. Those are not fun things to think about, and I don't know how to make those decisions with the information I've got at the moment anyway. So I am going to write a thing, and then I will try to decide what to do with it after that. At this point, I'm only planning to do plant profiles, and I have twenty-one candidates.¹ Probably not all of those are going to happen, and others will turn into something else. Also I might well give up on the whole idea before finishing any of them, but: what little vision I have of the future is currently revolving around those twenty-one plant profiles. For whatever it's worth, I'm starting with Madonna.

I'll eventually set up a progress page or sidebar or something to let you know how it's going.

I do not know, at this point, whether this is going to affect blogging frequency or quality. The hope is kind of that writing the profiles -- which I always used to enjoy, however much I also complained about them -- might make me more excited about, and interested in, plants again, so you may not notice a difference.

And now some plant-related content.


Random plant event: Columnea orientandina (30 August 2012)

The near-perfect pentagon formed by the leaves of the Columneas wasn't planned; I didn't notice it until after I uploaded the photos.
A few of the Columnea orientandina seedlings I started last summer are still with us, though most aren't -- I transplanted twelve pots' worth of C. orientandina seedlings, I think, and only three of those still contain living plants. Eight of the remainder got too dry or too wet or both; one got thrown out because of scale.

I've started two additional rounds of seedlings since then, but the sprouts are so tiny and stringy when they first emerge that I'm scared to handle them. Consequently, I haven't transplanted them yet, and they're probably going to die before I can psych myself up to do it. In the future, I'm going to try starting them directly on soil, rather than trying to start them in vermiculite and then transfer them. If it works, then I don't have to worry about hurting them during transfer, and if it doesn't, well, there will be more seeds later.

Though it sort of doesn't matter anymore, since the seedlings in those three pots are large enough to take cuttings from. I don't have to start them from seeds if I don't want to.


Selling and Trading (30 April 2012)

For all intents and purposes, I won't be selling or trading plants in 2013. It's the whole scale-and-thrips business, mostly: the worst of that seems to be over, but I don't know if I've actually gotten them all. There are other reasons too (mailing plants is a big time drain; sometimes people are supposed to pay for their plants and then don't; I don't always know what I'm going to get when I agree to a trade), but not wanting to mail bugs to people is the main thing. And anyway, I supposedly have a new project now; see above.

Having said that, I'd now like to undercut it by saying that if you've seen a plant on PATSP that you're desperate to have, and you've checked the "Plants I've Tried" list and I'm still claiming to have one, feel free to e-mail and ask about it. (Especially if it's something I've talked about offering for sale in the past.) I'm not going to try to be all organized and official about selling and trading this year, but there are still a few plants I could send out, and maybe a few plants I'd be interested in bringing in, so we'll see what happens. If you're looking to trade, you should check out the "Plants I Want" page first, because there's a whole big list there at the bottom, of plants I am definitely not interested in, and checking that could save us both some time.


Somewhat last-minute grab bag (3 April 2012)

The Philodendron bipinnatifidum sucker is still there. Not growing very quickly, but still there, and the parent plant keeps getting bigger (very slowly), so I guess it didn't signify anything bad.

The poor plant has been terribly, terribly abused, so it's a wonder it's even still alive, never mind growing and self-propagating and all that.

Euphorbia milii 'Candyland' eventually succumbed to the Euphorbia-ravaging fungus. The leaves kept fuzzing over. I pulled them off, but it kept happening. I tried spraying with various things. It kept happening. Finally, in frustration, I cut the top off the stupid thing. The theory was that if there weren't any leaves to infect, the fungus would give up and go home. Instead, the plant got upset about being beheaded, and rotted, and I wound up throwing it out anyway. Oh well.


Unfinished business: various (6 March 2012)

The Excoecaria cochinchinensis lasted until February 2013, so not quite a year. It wasn't dead, and I didn't have a strong recurrence of spider mites (there were occasional small infestations), but it had dropped a lot of leaves, it wasn't replacing them quickly, and it had gotten floppy in a way that was inconvenient. I could have let it stay if it had continued to be pretty, but it wasn't even doing that, and this was during the spell when I was trying to get rid of a bunch of plants I didn't like anymore, so out it went.

The Hatiora with magenta flowers is still around, but it obviously hates it here. Only two of the original four salvaged pots are still around, and one of those just shattered because I moved it up to a bigger pot. Also it's never rebloomed, though that's probably because it's in the basement, where the days are always too long for it to set buds.

The Ananas lucidus is still doing nicely. Here it is in March 2013:

Random plant event: Crassula perfoliata var. falcata (5 March 2012)

And now I'm like 0 for a billion, on Crassulas. This was the one Crassula that was halfway working for me, but then I had to move it out of the south window because it got too big, which it didn't like. Then in the late fall I dropped it, or something fell on it, or something like that, and the main stem broke off. The remaining branches grew for a little while after that, but since they weren't getting the same amount of sun, and the plant was taking up water more slowly (both because there was suddenly a lot less plant there and because it was colder), they eventually wound up rotting. So I'm just done done done done done with Crassulas. They have nice qualities, but they're not well-suited to what I can do here.

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¹ The "people:"
Juliet Capulet • Little Brother • Drag Queen • Patient Zero • Sinead O'Connor • Night Owl • Character Actor • Madonna • Lab Assistant • Stunt Double • Wanker • Fish Out of Water • Understudy • Michelle Rodriguez • Real Estate Developer • Joan Jett • Rosemary's Baby • Labor and Management • Stick in the Mud • Yayoi Kusama
I'd list the plants that go with those, but at the moment, I'm thinking I'd rather not give too much away in advance. Even if I gave you a random-order list of the plants involved, some of them are obvious enough that you'd be able to figure them out, ruining the surprise anyway. So for right now, I'm not going to say which plants, other than to note that two of them are plants I've already written profiles about, but I think I can improve on those so I'm going to attempt to write them again.

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

Goodness. It's been so long since I did a transmitted light post that I don't even remember how I'm supposed to do them.

Actually no, that's not true. It's only been like five months. But it'd been nine months before that. I'm definitely a little rusty.

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

Schlumbergera truncata NOID, phylloclade. Though Schlumbergeras are not quite as abundant in the house as the Anthuriums, they've getting there. The most recent stats for the collection: 959 plants total, 198 Anthurium seedlings (21% of total), 116 Schlumbergera seedlings (12%). None of this changes the fact that they make lousy transmitted light subjects.

Philodendron [erubescens?] 'Golden Emerald.' I don't know what the deal is with this one; it never seems to photograph as bright and saturated as it actually is. It's really much prettier than this in person.

Brassolaeliocattleya Helen Brown. Probably by now it's not Brassolaeliocattleya anymore, but who has time to keep track of these things.

Iris ensata variegata. I have no memory of seeing a variegated Iris of any kind, anywhere. I mean, I know they exist; it's just that this photo is the only evidence I have that I've ever seen one. I didn't even take a photo of the whole plant, so there's no context for this picture. It's a weird feeling.

Salvia elegans. On Sunday, I semi-accidentally wound up looking at some of the pictures of the Salvia elegans we planted in the yard a couple years ago, when it was huge and in full bloom, and: I'm afraid we're just going to have to do that again. Even though I no longer seem to be capable of overwintering them. (Probably the basement is too warm now, what with all the lights.)

Callisia repens.

Tradescantia zebrina. I didn't actually intend for this to wind up next to the Callisia, but it's an interesting comparison, since they have a nearly identical growth habit.

Caladium NOID. Not one of my best Caladium pictures, but with Caladiums, even a bad picture is still okay.

Quercus sp., autumn.

Stromanthe sanguinea 'Triostar.'

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

Hey, you know what we haven't done in a really long time? Transmitted-light pictures! (There are reasons for this, but they're really boring and not worth explaining, so let's get directly to the pictures.)

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

Ipomoea purpurea? I really like the way this one turned out. Plain though it is, it might be my favorite from this set.

Fragaria x 'Fort Laramie,' autumn. Will next year be the year we get to eat some of the strawberries our plants produce? 2009 didn't work because we'd just moved and everything was crazy-crazy. In 2010 and 2011, there were a few strawberries, but various animals got to them before we did, and there weren't that many in the first place. In 2012, they didn't produce any, because we moved them to a new spot and they needed time to recover. So 2013 might be the year that buying the plant finally pays off. Or, you know. Not.

Verbascum thapsus, with mildew. Unsurprisingly, the mildew does not improve the photo.

Philodendron 'Imperial Red.' I no longer have this plant; it never did very well for me, even though 'Imperial Green' did. I suppose they're not necessarily related, despite the names. This parallels my experiences with Philodendron 'Moonlight' and 'Autumn:' the red one limped along, the green one thrived. Coincidence?

Pilea pumila. Not sure why I thought this would be interesting. Possibly just the novelty of seeing a Pilea that lives in Iowa.

Episcia NOID. A nice range of colors, at least. Gesneriads rarely make for good transmitted light subjects.

Solenostemon scutellarioides NOID. Not sure what happened to this picture. It definitely doesn't look right.

Musa 'Zebrina Rojo.' (possibly Ensete 'Zebrina Rojo;' I don't know what specific botanical characteristics distinguish Musa from Ensete) Banana leaves are always nice.

Synadenium grantii var. rubrum. Probably the best houseplant on the list, though it's not like there's a lot of competition. And the picture doesn't do justice to the plant.

Alocasia amazonica 'Polly.' The venation here is a little ridiculous, and whoever thought chocolate brown and fluorescent lime green go together should be pointedly questioned, if not actually punished. But it's okay.

Five More Plants I'm Not Currently Mad At (H through Pn)

As explained in the first of these posts, I'm currently trying to convince myself that despite a pretty catastrophic spring and summer, some of the plants are still doing reasonably well.

Also I'm trying to justify all the new pictures I've taken recently, since sorting through them all and getting them presentable has taken a lot of my time in the last three or four weeks.


1. Haworthia limifolia var. limifolia

Haworthia spp. and I are not always pleased with one another. Watering is often an issue: their need varies depending on the time of year, and although I know this, I have a hard time remembering when it's time to switch from more water to less water. Most of my plants get the same watering year-round, so there's a tendency to try watering the Haworthias that way too. Then I overwater, and they die, and I remember oh yeah, it's [whatever season it is].

Date: September 2012.
Pot size: 3" / 8 cm (along diagonal).
H. limifolia var. limifolia hasn't had as much of a problem with this as some of the others (it's especially been a problem for H. cymbiformis and Haworthia limifolia var. ubomboensis), though, and in fact has managed to make the most dramatic progress of any of them. Here's what it looked like five years ago:

Date: October 2007.
Pot size: 3" / 8 cm (along diagonal).
Part of the reason it does so much better than the average Haworthia in my care is that it gets better light (from shop lights in the basement) than most of them do. Most of the others have been in my office or in the plant room, and I suspect¹ I've misjudged how much light some of those locations actually receive.

Aside from the light and water issues, H. limifolia var. limifolia has been trouble-free: no insects (that I've seen; it was exposed to the ongoing scale infestation, though I've yet to see any scale on the plant), no complaints about temperature or humidity. I feed by splashing with a little bit of fertilizer at the end of a thorough watering. I haven't had a chance to propagate, though I would like to -- they produce plantlets on runners beneath the soil, which can be removed and potted up individually. Unfortunately, mine has yet to produce any plantlets.


2. Leuchtenbergia principis

I actually have two specimens of Leuchtenbergia principis. The first I bought because it was a cool plant, and I had been assured by PATSP readers that I would like it. The second one I bought because it was an 8-inch (20 cm) pot for $5 (the original was a 6-inch / 15 cm for $25), and I couldn't pass up that deal, duplicate plant or no.²

They're not, as you'll see, particularly rapid growers.

The original plant.
Date: September 2012.
Pot size: 6" / 15 cm.
I probably ought to at least look at the roots sometime soon, if not do a soil replacement or move it up to a bigger pot, but I've been holding off because I'm nervous about it. And fall is a bad time to be doing that anyway.

(original)
Date: somewhere between August and November 2009.
Pot size: 6" / 15 cm.
The other plant is in similar shape:

The later-arriving plant.
Date: September 2012.
Pot size: 8" / 20 cm.
In both cases, the plants have splayed outward a bit in the middle, to try to collect more light. They're in a south window, but there are a lot of things (houses, garages, other plants, walls) blocking the light before it reaches the Leuchtenbergias. Perhaps next year they'll get to spend the summer outside.

The later-arriving plant.
Date: December 2010.
Pot size: 8" / 20 cm.
Other than the splaying, they haven't complained about anything. I wind up watering the 6-inch one about every two weeks, though I slow that down some during the winter. The 8-inch plant gets watered about every four weeks, though it's closer to every two weeks in the summer. Fertilization is as described for the Haworthia. Neither Leuchtenbergia has ever given me any other problems.


3. Pachypodium lamerei

Pachypodium lamerei got to spend the summer outside this year, and responded by growing much more and much faster than I thought it was capable of. The down side to this is that it got top-heavy, and as a result, it got knocked over a lot. On occasion, other plants got knocked onto it, too, hence the lopsided appearance of the plant here:

Date: September 2012.
Pot size: 8" / 20 cm? I'm not sure, and I'm too lazy to get up and measure the pot.
And here it is five years and two repottings ago:

Date: October 2007.
Pot size: 4" / 10 cm.
I've definitely had some problems with P. lamerei in the past: mild cases of spider mites, occasional droplets of a dark brown liquid of unknown origin or significance,³ a tendency to defoliate partially in the winter,⁴ the way they're impossible to handle because of all the stabby spines, etc. But on the other hand, it's still alive and growing after five years, it's looking pretty good, and none of the problems have ever gotten out of control or anything.

Indoors, I water it every two weeks, year-round (unless the soil feels wet -- I do still always check the soil first), with light fertilizer splashed on after the watering, as described for the Haworthia. I try to keep the temperature at or above 60F / 16C. I'd love to propagate this, but it's probably just as well that I can't.⁵ Light is my main problem: last year, it sat in a west window with a bit of supplementary artificial light, and seemed to be okay with that. This year, however, it's gotten too tall to fit in that spot, so I have to give it a less-satisfactory location. It might be a good year to try inducing dormancy, but I probably won't: see footnote 4.


4. Philodendron pinnatifidum 'Spicy Dog'

First up, I have to say: Philodendron pinnatifidum 'Spicy Dog' isn't quite what I'd hoped it would be when I bought it. Nothing wrong with how it's turned out, but it's a lot closer to P. bipinnatifidum now than it was when purchased, and we already had a P. bipinnatifidum. The leaves are a lot more deeply lobed, and the stem's lengthened inconveniently. (I have to prop it up against a wall now, which is only going to become more difficult as the plant grows.)

Date: September 2012.
Pot size: 10" / 25 cm.
It's not really visible in the above picture, but if you were looking at the plant from the side, you'd see that the stem has a fairly pronounced "S" shape to it.

Inconvenient though it is, I'm not mad at it right now because it's always grown well and been problem-free. I mean, if it's too big and has a different appearance than what I wanted, it's hard to argue that those things are the fault of the plant.

Date: April 2010.
Pot size: 6" / 15 cm.
The younger leaves were cooler, though.

It's been getting watered about once a month lately (it might be overpotted a bit). For light, it has four separate windows (east, south, south, west), but they're all at least 6 feet (1.8 m) away, and three of the four are heavily obstructed by plants. How it manages to get by on that is something of a mystery to me, but maybe it's highly motivated: perhaps it knows that it's too big to go anywhere else in the house.

It appears not to mind the temperature and humidity here; I can't recall any pests. Propagation is out of the question, for the same reasons as Pachypodium, but there'd be no space for more of them even if I could propagate.


5. Plectranthus verticillatus

Perhaps an odd choice, but I've been appreciating P. verticillatus a lot lately even though it's one of the few plants that's actually decreased in size since I've had it.

Date: September 2012.
Pot size: 4.5" / 11.5 cm.
The original plant made it up to an 8-inch hanging basket --

Date: July 2010.
Pot size: 8" / 20 cm?
-- and then I took cuttings to make a second 8-inch hanging basket. Plus a whole bunch of 4-inch pots I'd propagated from cuttings. The 4-inch pots all grew a little too well, to the point where I couldn't untangle them from one another, and they were always dry, and I realized nobody was going to buy them, so I threw them all out. And then the two hanging baskets both just kind of fell to pieces. I suspect that was a temperature problem, because I'd put them in one of the worst spots imaginable for a tropical plant: near the floor of the room with the least insulation in the house, and directly in the path of a heat vent. So when the heat was on, they got blasted with hot, dry air, and when it wasn't, they were in a cold draft.

Stupid of me, I realize, but it seemed like something they'd be able to handle (they're ordinarily very tough plants), and I didn't have anywhere better to put them. I took cuttings from those before they had completely died, and those salvaged cuttings have turned into two plants, one of which is pictured above.

As to what it's doing on this list, well, they've been living in the basement for a few months now, and the other day I picked them up to water them and I was like, hey, that's actually really pretty, all dark-green and shiny like that. And they're almost too easy to grow, if you're at all trying: mine get water and fertilizer every two weeks, normal household temperatures and humidity (except when they don't), I've never had a pest on any of them, and they're easy to propagate. They're so fast-growing, it can be difficult to keep them under control, so they require some maintenance, but the fast growth is one of the things I liked about the species originally, so I can't really complain about that too much.


Honorable mentions to:

Haworthia NOID (possibly related to H. truncata)
Hoya bella
Hoya lacunosa
Hoya obovata
Huernia schneideriana
Huernia zebrina
Isolatocereus dumortieri
Myrtillocactus geometrizans
Neofinetia falcata Amami Furan
Pandanus veitchii
Peperomia clusiifolia
Peperomia pereskiifolia
Phalaenopsis NOID
Philodendron gloriosum
Philodendron hederaceum 'Aureum'
Pilosocereus pachycladus

As before, this is not an exhaustive list, whatever it might look like: these are just the plants that I happened to take photos of in September and that are still doing well for me.

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¹ (really more like know)
² I've recently been tempted again, because the ex-job got in two or three three-inch (8 cm) pots, and they're so cute that I just about can't stand it --

-- but so far I've been able to resist.
³ Which has happened both indoors and outdoors, and at different times of the year. It also seems to happen mostly near the growing tip, though I've seen it as low as halfway up the stem. It's relatively infrequent: I think I've only seen it four times? There haven't been any signs of bugs, and the last time, this summer, it happened after a particularly bad falling-over, which makes me think it might be related to physical injury, but on other occasions nothing had happened to it before the appearance of the spots, so I'm stumped. I'll try to get a photo the next time it happens.
⁴ The defoliation isn't necessarily a bad thing: they can go dormant if you withhold water, and then come back to life again in the spring. I don't do that because there's no compelling reason for me to do so. That, and I have trust issues about letting plants go dormant, because I always worry that they won't come back again.
⁵ Supposedly they can be propagated from stem cuttings (though I have no idea how in the hell you'd cut one of these stems) or seeds, and there are on-line sources for seeds, but I doubt I could provide enough light to keep seedlings from etiolating, and I don't especially want to cut my plant down, so we'll let it keep doing what it's doing.

Somewhat last-minute grab bag

Okay, so I spent the first half of yesterday trying to work on yet another post about dyed orchids, because I saw something new about them and had All! These! Ideas! about what that signified. The further I got into writing about it, the more interesting it got, until: I realized that I'd been misreading something, and the whole case I was trying to build fell apart. Some of the post is probably still salvageable, but it may be a while before I can work on it again.

Which means I need something to write about, so here's a grab bag of recent random plant events, new plants that aren't actually new anymore, and unfinished business:


1. Philodendron bipinnatifidum sucker


I'm not sure this signifies anything particularly good; the parent plant (which started out as my mother-in-law's, and she gave it to him twelve years ago) dropped three out of four leaves at about the same time this side shoot began to grow. I worried that this meant it was giving up, but it's since produced a new leaf, so apparently it's going to stick with us a while longer. (The leaf shedding was possibly a response to being cold; it sits on the floor of the plant room.)

This doesn't mean a lot -- I don't intend to try to root the sucker separately or anything -- but it's an event.


2. Tacca chantrieri flower, close-up


Also not hugely significant, but this is the first time I've gotten the chance to take a photo of the flowers when fully open and not yet dying. (Previous attempts.) So that's what they look like.

Yep, still weird.


3. New plant: Euphorbia milii 'Candyland'


This is really stretching the definition of "new plant," since I got it last November. But I hadn't written anything about it yet, and have meant to, so here it is. This is a distinctly different kind of variegation from the other variegated E. milii I've encountered; that one was speckled, and this one has white margins. The flowers -- which I've not yet seen on my own plant -- are red. It's been a little pouty, not growing much since this photo was taken. I suspect it may be unhappy with the amount of light it's getting.


4. Springtails on a dead Cyclamen


The Cyclamen experiment is over. This is also fairly old news; it was pronounced dead on 7 January 2012. The cause of death was probably overwatering during dormancy.

I don't think I'm inclined to try Cyclamen again. It was fun getting it to rebloom the one time, and I do still think they're gorgeous plants, foliage and flowers both. It's just difficult to keep track of when I'm supposed to be watering and when I'm not. Plants with pronounced dormancies are untrustworthy. (The reader may, at this point, wish to pause for a moment to say a short prayer on behalf of my new-as-of-last-fall Amorphophallus konjac bulb.)

Also, this is the best picture I've gotten yet of springtails, which I've run across before, once when they were killing my Anthurium seedlings and baby ferns, and then again when they kept coming out of the drainage hole of our Dracaena sanderiana: I thought I'd posted pictures of the latter but apparently I never considered the photos I got good enough to post. (Also, if you're wondering: the D. sanderiana was originally the husband's, though I've been taking care of it for the past few years. I don't especially like it, and the husband actually has given me permission to throw it out, but it's one of those things: I don't feel like I can get rid of it unless it dies on its own, and it won't die on its own.)


Springtails aren't ordinarily a huge problem for indoor plants. I mean, I don't think there are any situations where they're beneficial, but they eat decaying organic matter, which is basically what potting soil is, so they generally won't do anything much to plants. The Anthurium seedlings and baby ferns suffered only because they were planted in vermiculite, and there was really no organic matter available for the springtails to eat except for the baby plants.


5. Murraya paniculata seed sprouts


Not a shock. We've seen this before, fairly recently, but in this particular case, I labeled the pot when I started the plant, so I know that germination took 28 days to reach this point. (This photo was taken 27 March 2012.)


6. Unfinished business: Furcraea foetida 'Medio-Picta' offsets


Among the plants that have responded strongly to being fertilized regularly are the Furcraeas. These two are both offsets from my parent plant, which I got in June 2009. Whichever one is oldest got started in May 2010, and hadn't really done much as of March 2011. The second one was potted up in July 2011, a year behind the other, which makes it odd that they're both so nearly the same size.


7. Question for the Hive Mind: the new Ficus benjamina


I've noticed that one of the shoots on the new Ficus benjamina has an unusual variegation to it, which none of the rest of the plant seems to have. It's sort of the reverse of the E. milii 'Candyland' situation, in that I've previously only seen marginal variegation on Ficus, not speckling, whereas with the Euphorbia I'd seen speckling, but not marginal.

I'm wondering whether this is a virus. There are, I know, some plant viruses that cause this kind of speckling in their hosts, though I couldn't find any photos of Ficus benjaminas that resembled this. The shoot in question has four leaves, all spotted more or less the same way, and it seems improbable that a virus in one tiny branch of a multi-plant pot would hurt anything much, so I'm inclined to leave it alone (or, possibly, try to propagate it, if it seems robust enough to cut back), but I'm wondering what everybody else thinks about this. Is it a virus? Might it be a virus? If it is a virus, how much should I care? And if it isn't a virus, then what the hell is it?