Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Pretty pictures: Pink

Today we have various thoughts from the plant kingdom about the idea of "pink." In a couple cases, it's maybe more my questionable judgment, and the plant was actually thinking of "purple," but whatever. I had a whole bunch of pictures that I needed to do something with, having just sifted through almost the whole photo backlog, and this sort of post is a really efficient way of getting through a lot of photos in a hurry, even if they're not seasonally-appropriate, as some of these aren't.

Asclepias syriaca flowers in extreme close-up. Some insect life visible if you look closely and/or open the photo full-size in a new window.


Polygonum persicaria. I don't think anybody actually likes this plant, but it's awfully familiar, at least. And technically pink, so it counts.


Lamium NOID. Shortly after taking this picture, I was looked at suspiciously by two women talking to one another over their backyards' fence. I expect that the suspicious looks happen all the time, but I'm not normally in a position to see them, so it was noteworthy.


Cyclamen persicum NOID. I don't see the frilly-edged Cyclamens for sale very often. Not that I necessarily want one. I just think it's interesting what is and isn't popular.


Torenia 'Catalina Pink.' This is arguably more purple than pink, but the tag said it was pink.


Ipomoea NOID. If loving morning glories is wrong, I don't want to be right.


Zinnia 'Profusion Cherry.' I had sort of intended to get some Zinnias this year, or at least some Zinnia seeds. As with all my other outdoor-related plans, that didn't work out.


Cyclamen NOID. This is probably my favorite photo from the batch.


Portulaca grandiflora, second-generation flower. These have not yet taken off like I'd hoped, but considering how late I started them, I suppose I can't be too disappointed. I should still be able to collect enough seeds to try again next year.


Weigela NOID. Came with the house. The husband and I are both kinda meh about it, but it'd be a lot of work to take it out, and neither of us have any ideas for something we'd rather see in that spot, so it stays.


Hibiscus moscheutos 'Dave Fleming,' at the ex-job. I've seen hardy Hibiscus varieties I covet, but this isn't one of them. It's big and bright enough that I find it sort of alarming. Not the sort of Hibiscus you want to run into, walking around the back yard at night.


Monday, September 6, 2010

Animal: Graphocephala coccinea

This is the candy-striped leafhopper, Graphocephala coccinea, on a Salvia elegans leaf. They're native to North America and Central America. They make a living by sucking plant sap and are therefore, technically, pests. They can even spread viruses from plant to plant, like aphids. So they're pretty unequivocally bad.


I don't squash them, though. For one thing, it's hard to do. Though you might think that the "hopper" part of "leafhopper" is an homage to Dennis Hopper or something -- and in a perfect world maybe it would be! -- it's actually because they jump, far, on very little provocation, so you have to be really quick. For another, it seems like having to wear turquoise and red together should be punishment enough.

Mostly, though, it's 'cause I think they're fascinating to look at. (I like Bridget Riley paintings too. Do a Google image search. I dare you.)

Which I'm aware that being decorative is not a good reason to let them run free to spread viruses, suck precious sap, and knock over liquor stores or whatever.

The leafhoppers, I mean.

Not Bridget Riley.

Though she might spread viruses too, I suppose: I mean, I don't know her. And she is an artist, and you know how they are.

Not that it would be okay to squash her if she did spread viruses, obviously!

Let's get away from the Bridget Riley thing. My point is that I find candy-striped leafhoppers (see? Even the name is adorable!) too ornamental to kill. I apologize to all the outdoor gardeners.


Sunday, September 5, 2010

PATSP Crossword #3

I haven't posted one of these in forever, because they're very time-consuming to do, and I wasn't sure if people were really bothering to solve them, and if they did solve them I wasn't sure they, you know, enjoyed solving them. But it's been over a year and a half (the last one was in January 2009), which I think is enough elapsed time for the people who hate crosswords to feel like I'm looking out for their interests and concerns, plus I went to all the trouble of making one so here you go.

I have three more half-finished puzzles somewhere; it may surprise you to learn that actually putting the puzzle together, getting all the words to fit, is actually not the time-consuming part; writing the clues is. So the others will be posted when/if I manage to finish writing the clues. Here's puzzle #3:


As with the first one, a fair amount of this is site-specific, obscure, or whatever, and may or may not be of interest to you.

I recommend printing out a copy of the puzzle image, and then working on the paper. Sharpie on your computer monitor will also work, but will be more trouble. Googling should prove useful if you're stuck on one, though you know Googling makes you a cheater, right?

Feedback about difficulty is welcome. I will post the solution next Sunday afternoon.

Made with the demo version of Crossword Compiler, as was the first puzzle.

ACROSS
1 Military officer trainee
7 Where baby corn sleeps, or, a place for storing and drying corn
12 The military's favorite green
13 The part of most cacti where photosynthesis happens
14 The longest river in France
17 First and middle initials of Wilson, the creator of sociobiology
18 Women without direction
21 Hillary Rodham Clinton (abbrev.)
23 Popular material for flowerpots
24 Ordinary term for 32 across
25 The country code top-level domain for Spain (analogous to Canada's .ca or Sweden's .se)
26 Boringly stupid, or stupidly boring
28 He around whom the universe revolves
29 Cycas revoluta, for example
31 Fluffy/thorny filler plant
32 Mostly-obsolete, female-specific slang for 24 across
33 Sansevierias are sometimes called _________ plants
34 More than one peen
36 Was television about music
37 A plant adapted for conditions of little or infrequent rainfall, as e.g. Lithops or Crassula
38 LOLCat greeting
40 Outlook Express (abbrev.)
41 Untied, negated
43 They bring good things to life. Or maybe they don't anymore. It's been a while since I saw an ad.
44 Urban slang term meaning disrespect
46 ___________ of endearment
48 Or you can call it Fraxinus
49 They get hot when the sun is out, due to some kind of effect
51 Iowa (postal abbreviation)
52 Secret ______ Man
53 Bryophyllum daigremontianum's profile calls it an ___________ Genius
57 Transparent-topped enclosure for protecting young or small plants in cold climates (Hint: it sounds like it should be a new CBS crime drama)
60 Person who repots
61 Japanese plant torture

DOWN
1 Not sin or tan, but ____
2 Joyweed genus
3 What Gardenias mostly do indoors
4 Electronic voting machine (abbrev.)
5 Tellurium (chemical symbol)
6 South Dakota (postal abbrev.)
7 Annoying but deceased "Battlestar Galactica" character (as of season 4)
8 Woodwind instrument
9 Medical professional
10 Prescription (abbrev.)
11 Poetic flowers, or multiple Mayim Bialik shows [shudder]
15 Music group ______ & Glaciers (they're "post-hardcore," whatever the fuck that is)
16 Even if you kill all the adult pests with one pesticide application, you still have to repeat a few days later to catch any new pests that hatched from these
17 Dizygotheca _______________
18 Plant family names all end in these five letters
19 Interlibrary loan (abbrev.)
20 A kind of monkey
21 Howdy
22 The starchy root of Manihot esculenta (minor spelling variant), or, "house is going" in broken Spanish
27 The three numbers on fertilizer packages in the U.S. stand for the percentages of these elements (chemical symbols)
28 For example, shredded leaves, grass clippings, pieces of bark, newspapers, recycled tires, cocoa hulls, and the others
30 The gay one includes a break for brunch
33 Having worse air quality due to smoke and/or car exhaust
34 Fruits of Prunus domestica
35 Hallow___
37 Denise wanted to know how to care for her plant, ________ (2 words) looked it up on PATSP
39 Concept
42 Measure of water hardness
45 Block of metal
46 S/He's supposed to help you learn
47 _____: Your Brains (HINT: Google "Jonathan Coulton")
50 All at _______ it happened
53 Really short for "Ernest"
54 _______ deferens
55 You could get one made of Plumeria flowers in Honolulu
56 Windows before Vista
58 Initials of actor Woodside, played Principal Woods in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"
59 ________ shizzle


Saturday, September 4, 2010

Saturday morning Sheba and/or Nina picture

On Wednesday this week, I happened to look over at the terrarium and saw Nina doing something I've never seen before: she was hanging on the wall, like she does, but for some reason she wasn't staying stuck. Instead, she was slowly sliding down the wall while at the same time walking back up it, so she wound up walking in place, at a 90-degree angle. (Surely I'm not the only one here who's felt like that.)

She didn't do it for very long before jumping to the ground, but still -- it's been so long since I saw her doing anything new that I was pretty amused by it.

No idea why she would have been sliding in the first place; ordinarily she sticks just fine. Maybe she's dirty? Or the wall is? Or she's too clean? She did just shed her skin recently.


In other Nina-related news, her new plants are filling in surprisingly fast. The Pellionia pulchra is particularly surprising me; it'd gotten along in the living room just fine for a long while, not really growing a lot, but not dying back or complaining either, so I thought maybe they just aren't fast growers. But it turns out that the drier air, or drier soil, or small pot, or something was clearly restraining it, because since I planted those in there, they've been growing like gangbusters.

If gangbusters was a small, fast-growing, trailing plant.

Compare the original shot right after the plants were put in --


-- to the situation now, only about six weeks later. The Peperomia caperata's not so happy (are they ever?), and the Fittonia seems to still be getting accustomed to the new place: it's filled in a little, though not as much as I'd expected, but the Pellionia's everywhere. And such big new leaves in some places, too! I'd liked Pellionia already, but now I really like it.


In other other Nina-related news, she bit me yesterday. Granted, I was chasing her around the terrarium, trying to herd her into a more photographable location, so I was being rude.

Didn't hurt. Pretty sure she doesn't have teeth. I've met scarier clothespins. But still: bit me.


Friday, September 3, 2010

How to Pack Plants for Mailing

SPECIAL NOTE: Just to get this out of the way up front: there are any number of perfectly valid ways to send plants through the mail. I am describing a way that works and is convenient for me, but it's not the only way, not by a long shot, and persons who have mailed me plants in the past should not interpret the instructions which follow as an indication that they did a bad job packing.

First, you will need to try to determine whether you even can send plants through the mail. If you're not a business, you probably technically can send anything wherever, but some U.S. states ban the import of plant material and/or soil from certain other states. Shipping citrus fruit to California, for example, is a no-no. I've located California's list (it's the only one I've needed to find so far), but some of the other western states have similar restrictions.

For what I'd hope would be obvious reasons, sending plants known to be invasive in the state you're sending them to (i.e. mailing Ardisia elliptica to Florida), or plants which are diseased or infested with insects or other pests are bad ideas also.

I asked the Postmaster here about mailing stuff into states with quarantines, and she said she honestly didn't know what happened in those cases: she was sure they would run packages by drug- or other-contraband-sniffing dogs at some point, and maybe also x-ray them, but unless there was reason to think that there were drugs, banned plant products, or other contraband in the packages, she didn't think they were ever opened. So it's quite possible that you could send kumquats to California and get them in anyway. Which makes it all the more important that you try to find out what would be harmful: these restrictions are in place for a reason. If you send a diseased kumquat to Los Angeles and it destroys their whole citrus crop, guess who's paying more for orange juice at the supermarket.

(Me!

And I guess probably also you, but I'm less concerned about that.)

Other countries are a much more complicated situation, and I'm not clear at this moment whether it's possible for me to, say, ship a couple houseplants to someone in Canada or Mexico. (I'm pretty sure anywhere else in the world is out of the question, if for no other reason than it would take a really long time to get there and/or be prohibitively expensive.) I'm working on finding out, especially with regard to Canada, but if anybody happens to know the answer already, or where I could find the answer, please leave a comment.

In the U.S., they'll ask at the post office if what you're mailing is perishable. (I'd hope that other services like UPS and FedEx do this as well, but I don't know.) I always say yes, and that it's plants. I'm not sure what this actually means in terms of how the box is treated within the postal system, whether your box is actually kept somewhere with moderate temperatures or just gets thrown in with everything else anyway. So if it's going to be very cold along the route, or if the plant may have to sit outside in the sun for a few hours on a hot day, you're probably best to wait and send it later. I usually (always?) send stuff between April to October. Cold is more of a problem for most tropical plants (i.e., houseplants) than heat is, but extremes of either can be fatal, so think first.

Then you'll need a box. For small items, like a single Kalanchoe leaf, you could use a padded envelope, but even for small things I prefer the added strength of a box. I don't know what sort of machinery envelopes get put through.

If the recipient already knows what they're going to be getting, then you don't really need to include a list, or ID tags, but it's neighborly to do so anyway.

Usually I don't: instead I slice up an index card and tape it to the plants after they're wrapped up, but I'm getting ahead of myself here. For our first example, I actually did write a tag (piece of a plastic gallon milk jug: Mr. Brown Thumb is responsible for that idea) and stuck it in with the plant, a Hatiora salicornioides:


Next, I line the bottom of the box with some packing material. In the past, I've used shredded paper, crumpled paper, styrofoam peanuts, and plastic bags, to various degrees of success. I think I prefer plastic bags, now that I've tried them all a few times, but the particular material isn't that important. The idea is just to have a layer of something that will stay between your plant and the edge of the box. This will protect it somewhat against temperature swings, as well as some kinds of mechanical damage.

Then, I put the plant in one of the plastic bags,


loosely tie the top of the bag onto the plant with a rubber band (this keeps the soil from leaking out all over the inside of the box, and also slightly reinforces the stems against crushing forces against the top of the plant),


and then put all that into a second bag and rubber-band it far away from any plant parts. The second bag is not strictly necessary, but in this particular case I wanted to make doubly sure the soil was contained. Some mail-order sellers will insert two bamboo stakes into the soil, to hold the bag up away from the plant and protect against crushing forces against the top of the plant. It shouldn't be necessary in most cases.

Some people, instead of bagging the plant, put packing tape over the top of the soil, or fold aluminum foil up around the edges of the pot, to hold the soil in. Those both work, though I don't do them because: tape is hard to get back off, afterward, and sometimes it sticks to the plant or the packing material and has to be peeled away carefully, and aluminum foil runs a slight risk of injuring the stem.

If they're all you've got to work with, then by all means use tape and/or foil, but try to avoid it if you can. Also I should probably note here that professional plant-shippers tend to stick a wad of shredded paper around the top of the soil and then use packing tape to tape it down to the pot. Again, sometimes getting the tape back off again can be a problem, but it is probably the best way of keeping the soil in place, if that's a major concern.

Anyway. Then the bag gets set down on top of the cushioning layer of stuff you put down first. If you're going to attach a piece of index card with an ID, now's the time to do that.


For plants that aren't already potted-up, like these Cissus quadrangularis cuttings,


the process is basically the same, though I used a sandwich bag to first wrap some soil around the roots before bagging the whole plant up.

Again, tying a rubber band on -- not so tightly that you hurt any stems, but tight enough that the soil's not going to shake its way loose -- can be helpful. Not reliable on its own, but helpful.

I didn't trust the rubber band to be that great in this case, though, so I put the baggie and plant on the side of another plastic grocery bag --


-- and then rolled the bag up around it.

Fold over the loose end with no plant or soil in it, and tie it down with a rubber band like in the first example, and then it's done too and can be set on the pile.

Try not to put plants directly on top of one another if you can help it: you don't want a carefully-packed fragile plant to have a heavy pot resting directly on top of it, and since the box is going to get spun around during shipping, you don't know what direction "on top" will be at any particular moment. For this box, I did try to do a sort of lasagna-packing approach (layer of bags, layer of plants, layer of bags, layer of plants), but I don't usually if I'm working with a small box or limited number of plants; I just try to jigsaw them all in there together in a way where they can't move around much.

You may be wondering about watering. Generally speaking, if the plant is okay when you put it in the box, it's going to be okay when it comes out of the box too: it's dark in there, so it's not going to lose a lot of water to evaporation, and transpiration is reduced simply because there are so many layers of plastic standing between your plants and any dry air that might be outside the box.

Another good reason not to water before mailing stuff, unless you really have to, is that the price to mail your box will depend partly on weight, and wet soil weighs a lot more than dry. (With the U.S. Postal Service, the destination zip code and dimensions of the box also factor into the cost, FYI.) So it costs you to water first, too. If the plant really is dry, you can also just dribble a little bit of water in and then seal it all up. It's not a good way to water in general, but these are exceptional circumstances.

I should possibly take this moment to mention also that a lot of plants like Sedum morganianum, Echeveria spp., Pachyphytum spp., Crassula ovata (jade plants), Saintpaulia cvv., Begonias, etc., are likely to break apart to some degree during shipping even if you're very careful about how you do it. Generally, the plants that tend to shatter also tend to be pretty easy to start from the pieces, so it's not a huge loss, but you should warn the recipient in advance that this will probably happen, because otherwise they may open the box and see a shattered Sedum in there and think it's dead, or be angry with you, or whatever.

Echeveria leaves sprouting new plants at work.

As a final example, we have some Plectranthus 'Mona Lavender' cuttings. These were just cut, so they'd be as fresh as possible, but I still had to do something so they could ship without drying out.

So I took a paper towel, and laid it underneath the bare stems (from which I'd removed side shoots and leaves),

folded the bottom of the paper towel up over the stems,

and then rolled the whole thing up.

Then I got the paper towel damp but not sopping wet,

and proceeded as with the Cissus example, putting the plant into a baggie and then into a plastic grocery bag. (I think. I may have skipped the baggie. Two layers would have been unnecessary, whatever I actually did.)

When all your plants are in the box, you should still have a small layer of space available to put packing material on the top, bags or whatever, before closing up the box. I use packing tape to close up the top, and then often put packing tape along all the edges of the box too. This is mostly because I'm neurotic and enjoy taping things, but some of it is also so that if I've done a bad job and soil does start rattling around inside the box, at least it's not going to fall out through the edges and seams and leave trails around the Post Office.

If you've packed the box well, you should be able to pick it up and spin it around without hearing or feeling plants shifting around a lot inside. If you do hear or feel this, you probably should re-open the box and add more bags (or whatever you're using to pack); every shift is a chance for damage to happen, and your box is going to get thrown around a lot before reaching its destination. Too much packing material, on the other hand, is just going to push against the plants and add to the shipping weight, so try to add in just what you need to keep it from shifting around, no more.

Then you can address your box and take it to the post office (or wherever).

I personally try to send all my plants out on Monday or Tuesday, so as to minimize their chances of sitting unclaimed in a closed post office on a Sunday. It also seems to help them get to their destination faster if they're sent first thing in the morning, though that's a lot harder for me to do than the Monday-Tuesday thing, and may only be true for Iowa post offices or something.

Boxes sent by Priority Mail (first class), through the USPS, generally take three or four days to arrive, though I've had a couple arrive in two. Third-class mail is significantly cheaper, but it's also slower (five to ten days), so I don't recommend it unless you're sending exceptionally sturdy plants that won't mind being in the dark for a week and a half.

You should instruct your recipient (if they don't already know) to open the box and let the plants breathe as soon as possible on arrival. It's not necessarily an emergency if they don't pot up all the cuttings and stuff right away, but staying longer in the box without light or fresh air isn't probably going to do them any good, either.

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So that's my advice. Contrary opinions or experiences, questions, or comments are welcome. Also this was written quickly and without a lot of proofreading, so if you catch any redundancies, typos, misdirected links, etc., I'd take it as a kindness if you pointed them out.


Thursday, September 2, 2010

Pretty (?) pictures: Tacca chantrieri flower

The ex-job has gotten some Tacca chantrieri plants in, in bud. They're surprisingly big, maybe three feet (0.9 m) tall, with multiple flowers and buds. I didn't get any pictures of the whole plant, because when I was thinking of it, there were people in the way, and then when there weren't people in the way anymore, I forgot I'd intended to. But I did at least get photos of the flowers.

The plants themselves have big, broad, green leaves with maybe a slight iridescent/metallic shine to them. (See davesgarden.com pics here and here.) If you didn't know what they were, you'd probably guess a new variety of peace lily. Like peace lilies, they're still attractive when not in flower.


We never get them for sale around here -- these are the first ones I've seen in the area, as far as I can remember, in the three or four years that I've been going around to look at different garden centers -- and these weren't too ridiculously priced. I don't remember how much they were, but it wasn't outrageous. I was, however, not even a little bit tempted, because my understanding is that they're fussy as hell.

WCW had one, or maybe two, plants that she brought from home to overwinter in the greenhouse a couple years ago. They didn't make it, and if I remember correctly it wasn't the first time she'd tried. If WCW can't grow something, the odds are very good that I can't either, so I wasn't tempted at all.


There are at least three other Tacca species: T. integrifolia is also occasionally cultivated as a houseplant, and then davesgarden.com also lists T. nivea and T. leontopetaloides. They all have the same structural plan for the flowers: three large bracts, a bunch of "whiskers" extending out and down, and then a batch of true flowers in the middle of the whole thing. None of the pictures in this post show the true flowers completely opened: they're all flexed back away from the flowers' centers, which are the weird things with the red balls in them.

The genus is also of interest to me for being one of very few words that a person can spell using only the letters of the bases in DNA, which are A, C, G, and T. You can spell a, at, cat, tag, gaga, act, tact, and that's about it for real everyday words. Caca, maybe, if you include Spanish words. Tata or Ta-ta if slang's allowed. GATT if we permit acronyms.


Tacca also works, for a fifth letter, and if movie titles are permitted then you can get as far as the seven-letter Gattaca (which wasn't a word until the movie, but I think it counts now) before you hit a wall.

So if anybody discovers a fifth species of Tacca, I would very much appreciate it if they would name it Tacca gaga, Tacca gattaca, Tacca attacca (TACK-ah ah-TACK-ah), Tacca gagaccat (TACK-ah GAH-gah-cat -- which would also be a palindrome, for triple cool points), or something along those lines. I can be flexible on the exact name; I just care about the letters.

I thank the Tacca taxonomists of the world for their time and attention.


Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Random plant event: Abutilon seed pod

This is the first post I've written in quite a while, because I've been on a partial vacation from PATSP for the last week and a half. I consistently start feeling a slight case of burnout coming on about a month before a hiatus (next hiatus will be late September), so this time I just wrote a bunch of posts in advance and took a break from trying to write any more. This means, among other things, that I'm no closer to having the Aloe vera1 profile done than I was ten days ago. (UPDATE: But it still got finished.)

This will be explained.

However, on the glass-is-half-full side, I used some of the time constructively, attacking the considerable backlog of photos I'd accumulated (rough estimate: 2500-3500 individual photos of 750-1000 different subjects), and actually managed to deal with 2/3 of them, which had the pleasant burnout-reducing side effect of suggesting new topics for future posts. Which posts, once written, will in turn lead me back to burnout, later on. It's the Circle of Blogging. There should be a song.



Well.

Maybe not that song.

Anyway. I also had time for updating and slightly reworking the plant list, doing a full round of watering, going back in the archives to add links to recently-posted plant profiles, and playing a moderate amount of Sim City 4. I knew blogging took up a lot of time, but damn.

The actual subject of today's post was discovered during the plant-watering.


It's an Abutilon seed pod. I've never had one before, because for a long time, the only Abutilon I had was 'Bella Pink,' which is apparently not self-compatible. I bought 'Bella Vanilla' and 'Bella Red' at the start of the summer (late May), and tried to cross them both with 'Pink' when I first got them home, by mashing stamens and pistils together kind of sloppily, but nothing appeared to happen, and then 'Red' and 'Vanilla' both stopped flowering for several months, and I tried cutting 'Pink' back so I could propagate cuttings of it, so I couldn't try again until they all decided to flower again. (Which actually hasn't happened yet, though 'Pink' has been blooming for quite a while, and both the other two have buds now. I've had buds develop to a certain point and then drop before, so this doesn't necessarily mean I'll get new flowers, but in theory it's just a matter of time, right?)

Abutilon 'Bella Red.'


Abutilon 'Bella Vanilla.'

And that was where things stood until this last round of watering, which shows me that at least one of the crosses I tried actually did work, and at some point I should have seeds. Which is awfully exciting, since the attempt to propagate from cuttings was a complete disaster. Everybody says that Abutilons are the easiest plants to propagate from cuttings, you just take a piece off and stick it in the ground and away you go, but in my case, I took the pieces off and stuck them in potting mix and then watched as they all shriveled up and died within a week. Which made me very, very angry. (On the positive side, though, I got the first picture in this post by putting all the flowers that I took off of the cuttings together in a box. May or may not be pretty, but it's different.)

People say the seeds are easy too, so maybe nothing will come of me having seeds either, but at least I get to try. I'm pleased.


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1 I guess it really is called Aloe vera, not Aloe barbadensis. That's what GRIN says. Whatever is technically correct at the moment, there's so much confusion on the subject that I think I'm okay choosing the one that's faster to type. And everybody knows it as A. vera, so.