Random plant event: Homalomena 'Perma Press'

If you've ever had an idle moment to wonder whether Homalomena cuttings could be propagated by rooting them in water but then didn't actually try doing it because you're a busy person and you have more important stuff to do (and most things are more important than rooting Homalomena cuttings: you made the right choice), the answer is a qualified yes:

The back story here is that my Homalomena 'Perma Press' had gotten very tall and floppy, plus it's never been a particularly full-looking plant because it's been stuck inside in less-than-ideal conditions for most of its life. So I finally got fed up with it and cut the tops off the two long stems. I didn't want to just throw them out, especially since I didn't know if the stumps would resprout, so I put them in water, and voila.

The stumps are capable of resprouting, as it happens, though that doesn't necessarily mean that they'll always do so:

The ultimate plan is to stick these rooted tops back in the pot with the original plant, in hopes of getting a more presentable specimen. The transition from water to soil is hard for a lot of plants, but aroids (with the exception of Epipremnum aureum) usually handle it well, so I'm optimistic. I should probably do this sooner rather than later, because the roots are getting longer, and I'm not maintaining a high water level in the vase very well.

Grab Bag

Today, we have a few odds and ends that aren't a big enough deal for their own post, but are nevertheless sort of interesting.

1.

I don't think this is the first peloric Phalaenopsis I've ever seen in person, but it may well be the second. This was at the ex-job.

I can't tell if I like peloric orchids or not. I sort of feel like I ought to, but they make me strangely uncomfortable.


2.

Anthurium seedling # 198 ("Marge Hadron-Coleida") has an unexpected house guest (on the right, in the picture). I didn't plant anything else in there on purpose, and it's too small, so far, to make a definite ID, but my guess is that we're looking at a Murraya paniculata seedling. We'll have a better idea once it starts to grow some real leaves. (These are cotyledons, or "seed leaves.")

I'm not sure what to do about this. The Anthurium seedling is one of the few I've managed to get from my NOID purple-blooming plant, and as such is more valuable to me than the average Anthurium; at the same time, both the other Murrayas I've managed to propagate so far were lost in the Great Purge,¹ so a chance to start over with a new Murraya seedling would be nice.

It's possible that both plants would be just fine if I separated them, but I'm nervous enough about it that I'm at least going to wait until I'm sure what the mystery seedling is before I attempt it. And I might not attempt it then, either. And odds are they'll both get scale and have to be thrown out before either one gets big enough to transplant anyway, so probably I'm getting myself nervous over nothing.


3.

I don't talk about Homalomena 'Perma Press' very often on the blog. Mine doesn't look great, though not through any fault of the plant's -- the problem is that it's bigger than the space I can give it, so the leaves aren't able to grow up properly, but instead grow up until they hit the shelf above them, and then sort of randomly snake along in whatever direction looks good. It hasn't helped, either, that 'Perma Press' got tangled up in the Monstera deliciosa one shelf over, so I occasionally ripped leaves when taking it out to water.

That being said, though, it's been surprisingly accepting of its situation so far, and looks better than it has any right to.² And now that it's started a third growing tip, it might wind up filling in enough to be presentable in the future. Homalomenas have never done that much for me, but if this sort of thing keeps up, I may yet find myself respecting them.


4.

Some kind of miscommunication in the Petal Pigmentation Department, obviously. (Things haven't been the same since Sherri retired.)


5.

I don't know the name of this plant; it wasn't identified. It had a certain Seduminess to it, though, so that's my guess. (If you have reason to think otherwise, leave a comment.) The flowers are obviously not gorgeous or anything, but I kinda like 'em. And they coordinate well with the blog colors at the moment.

-

¹ Technically untrue: there is a third, that went in the terrarium when I redid the terrarium planting. It's survived, but not really thrived, and is in the process of being overrun by Begonias, so I don't know that I expect it to last much longer.
² As of last September:

I don't have an older picture to compare this to, because, I think, I was never certain that the plant was going to last long enough to be worth photographing. But I've had it since April 2009. At the time, it fit into a 4-inch / 10 cm pot; now it's in an 8-inch / 20 cm pot.

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

There's probably a name for the condition of having writer's block, but having it with everything you try to do, not just writing. I don't know what the term would be, but I lived the experience all day yesterday (Monday). Couldn't bring myself to water, couldn't get anywhere writing the blog, mildly depressed (the AdSense decision factored into this, but I don't think it was the main cause), couldn't even manage to take a nap. In the end, I wound up on the couch, watching Beavis and Butthead Do America, which is my emergency self-treatment of choice for depression. It worked, in that it cheered me up (it always does; that's why it's the treatment of last resort. It'd be the treatment of first resort, but I'm afraid overuse would decrease the potency, so Beavis and Butthead only get brought out in extreme situations, maybe once or twice a year), but it didn't make me any more able to get anything done.

Which is why we have transmitted light photos again. Although I traditionally try to come up with a comment about each photo individually, I'm going to stop doing that unless I can think of something worthwhile to say: not only does this save me time writing, it also saves me the agony of trying to come up with something clever (or interesting (or even remotely connected)).

For this particular batch, with one pink exception, we have a green-or-orange thing going on. Hope you like.

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

Homalomena 'Perma Press.' It's turned out to be a less-terrible houseplant than I was expecting, from my experiences with H. 'Emerald Gem.' The main problem is that it wants to be really, really big, so all the petioles are bent and twisted because I don't have a spot where they can extend themselves the full two feet that they want.

Neoregelia NOID. It's really, you know. Pink.


Anthurium andraeanum cv. I don't know what happened to cause the water-soaked patches here: I didn't do anything to the leaf as far as I know, and although it's happened before, it's pretty rare. But it makes for a more interesting Anthurium photo than usual.

Ficus benjamina 'Midnight.'

Hemerocallis NOID, flower petal.

Syngonium wendlandii. Bad photo, but it's a good plant. I'm happier with my S. wendlandii than I have been with any of the S. podophyllums, amazingly enough.

Codiaeum variegatum NOID (most likely 'Petra.').

Zingiber malaysianum.

Solenostemon scutellarioides 'Splish Splash.' Tied for my favorite picture from this batch.

Canna 'Tropicanna.' The other picture that's tied for favorite. Less dramatic than the previous Canna photo, but arguably that works in its favor. The other one was pretty intense.

Random plant event: Homalomena 'Emerald Gem' flowers

This has happened to me before, but it's been a while. I realize it's not a pretty flower (In fact, the actual flowers aren't even visible in the picture: Homalomena is in the aroid family, and so produces spathe-and-spadix-type inflorescences, where the actual flowers are on the spadix. Some aroids, Homalomena among them, won't even open the spathe so the flowers can be accessed, which I think is probably a matter of not being happy with the environment. I don't really know for sure.), but it still counts as one of the plants doing something this winter, so I get to blog about it, because that's how this blog thing works.


'Emerald Gem' and I have managed to get on better terms since I wrote the profile on it, and have been doing okay together for quite a while now, but even though it's doing better, it's still never looked as good as it did when I first bought it. I wouldn't necessarily recommend one for someone new to houseplants. On the other hand, there's something to be said for any plant that stays alive for me for three and a half years, too.

If You Were a Houseplant, What Kind of Houseplant Would You Be?

Gentle readers:

Just for shiggles, let's ponder the title question.

Obviously human beings' needs for things like water and temperature are going to be pretty similar, and we already know which plants are compatible with regular human environments, because those are the plants we grow indoors, where we live, already. Therefore, we have to resort to metaphor for this.

So what I'm asking everybody to do (if you want) is, evaluate yourselves on a 0-3 scale, as described below, for each of the criteria, and then leave a comment, containing the numbers you come up with for yourself. I'll run your numbers through Excel, match them against the ratings for plants I've already got in the spreadsheet, and then post a list of the three plants with number sets most similar to the set you've given me.¹ You may use any number between 0 and 3 (like, if you're just positive you're a 2.68 on something, the number 2.68 works as well as any other for calculating, so go ahead and tell me 2.68.). If you don't like my metaphors for which personality traits go with which plant-care categories, feel free to make up your own and give me those numbers instead.

Euphorbia grandicornis. An extrovert.
PESTS are obviously other people.
0- People are great. I love meeting new people, and get along with everybody.
1- I like most people, though occasionally I run into someone I can't get along with.
2- I don't work or play well with others, but when I have to, I have to.
3- Other people are constantly getting in my way, being stupid, or otherwise causing me problems, and I wish I didn't have to deal with them.

Pogonantherum paniceum. A hoarder.
Water is sort of raw material for doing anything, for plants. Basically "stuff." So for OVERWATERING, the question is how unsettled you are by having too much stuff, too much clutter, in your life.
0- I'm a hoarder.
1- I keep stuff a lot longer than I need to, and regularly buy stuff for which I have no immediate use.
2- Things occasionally get out of hand, but most of the time I keep my space fairly neat and organized.
3- I can't stand any kind of mess, even in space that doesn't belong to me.

Beaucarnea recurvata. A DIYer/survivalist type.
And for UNDERWATERING, it's about how big of a problem it is for you not to have the things you need.
0- I can make anything I need from scratch using only duct tape and twigs, and sometimes I don't need the twigs.
1- I can usually improvise a bad substitute from something I already have, without having to buy something new.
2- I've been known to waste time going to multiple stores, trying to find something that will work perfectly.
3- I'll drop everything and drive for an hour to get exactly the right item.

Pilosocereus pachycladus. Belongs to Overeaters Anonymous.
LIGHT is basically energy input, for plants, which I think most closely parallels food consumption in humans. So
0- I'm basically anorexic.
1- I eat sensibly, most of the time.
2- I eat more than I ought to.
3- I eat anything that isn't nailed down.

Plectranthus verticillatus. Is basically Michelle Duggar.
For PROPAGATION, you have a choice: you can either treat it pretty literally, about your chances of having actual children, and the number of children, in your lifetime (0-I want to have a house full of kids / 1-definitely want some kids / 2-I might want one kid, someday / 3-I never want to have any children ever, or I can't have any childen ever), or you can be metaphorical:
0- I'm very proud of how much stuff I've accomplished in my life, compared to others my age.
1- There have been some unproductive spells, but I think on balance I've done quite a bit of cool stuff.
2- I could definitely have accomplished more if I'd worked harder, but considering what I had to work with I think I've done a couple worthwhile things.
3- I'm not sure I've ever done anything worthwhile in my life.

Begonia rex-cultorum 'Escargot.' Voted Most Likely To Go Postal.
HUMIDITY . . . I'm going to say stress-management and ability to function under pressure, and/or ability to deal with frustration.
0- I deal exceptionally well with stress most of the time. Other people even compliment me on it and ask what my secret is. I'm thinking I should write a book.
1- I handle certain kinds of stress (like pushy co-workers or intense deadline pressure) very well, and other kinds (like disorganized workspace or lazy co-workers) not so much.
2- I work okay under moderate amounts of pressure, but fall apart when it goes on for a long time without a break/vacation or when I'm being asked to perform an exceptionally impossible task.
3- The slightest little thing will make me stress out to the point of being completely unable to function.

Homalomena 'Emerald Gem.' "I CAN'T RUSH MY PROCESS, MAN!"
TEMPERATURE is a toughie, but I'm thinking it has to do with the intensity of daily activity, kinda. Since the meaning as it applies to plants has to do with the allowable range of temperatures, this is basically a measurement of how flexible you can be.
0- Whenever and however you want it, that's when I'll get it to you.
1- It's nice to have a little advance warning about things, but basically I can work at whatever speed is necessary without getting stressed about it.
2- I need to know pretty specifically what you want and how soon you want it, and depending on your deadlines I may or may not be able to get it to you.
3- I am no good with other people's deadlines. I have to work at my own pace, which is sometimes superfast and sometimes superslow, but I can't be rushed to do things faster, and I can't wait around for someone else's input once I'm ready to go.

Zamioculcas zamiifolia. Married, 2.5 kids, lives in suburbs.
GROOMING usually works out in the plant profiles as having special circumstances or quirks of care that aren't covered under one of the other categories but make the plant more difficult. So metaphorically, if your life is unusual in some way, compared to the average person in your country, because of who you are (disabled, gay, famous, independently wealthy, mentally ill), where you live (hippie commune, military, expat), or some other way that creates challenges for you that other people don't have or appreciate (self-employed, caring for a relative with special needs, religious minority, group marriage), this is where to note that.
0- I'm painfully ordinary in every possible way.
1- My life is a little weird.
2- I'm kind of a freak.
3- My life circumstances may be entirely unique in the history of the world.

Hibiscus rosa-sinensis. Goes skydiving on weekends.
FEEDING for plants is the input of trace elements, so for people I'm going to say it's about the need for novelty and stimulation, about how bored you get and how easily.
0- I'd be pretty happy to get on a routine that worked for me and stay in that routine until I die, with no changes at all.
1- Having a stable, routine life is definitely important to me, but it's nice to get away and do something different every once in a while.
2- I like to shake things up regularly, so I don't get into a rut.
3- I have to be doing something new constantly -- going new places, learning new things, trying new forms of physical activity -- or I get bored and cranky.

My personal numbers fall out as follows:

PESTS: 2.5
OVERWATER: 1
UNDERWATER: 1
LIGHT: 2
PROPAGATION: 1
HUMIDITY: 2
TEMPERATURE: 2.5
GROOMING: 1.5
FEEDING: 1

My closest match turns out to be Philodendron gloriosum.² I'm the son of a Stromanthe sanguinea (Mom) and a Schefflera actinophylla (Dad),³ and I married a Philodendron 'Xanadu.' (So not only same-sex marriage, but same-metaphorical-genus marriage!)

Moi.
The husband points out that there could be a financial opportunity in this, somewhere. Some kind of horti-horoscopes (Rhapis: your sharp tongue may get you in trouble with your boss today, unless you remember to think before you speak."), or personality tests, which could be sold to businesses or used in marriage counseling. ("Well, there's your problem: you're an Agave and he's a Dieffenbachia. What you need is to neutralize your Agave nature by buying its opposite, which is a Begonia rex-cultorum, and then your relationship will be saved.") He's probably right.

None of this, of course, actually means a damn thing, but hey. If you need to have an answer ready just in case you run into Barbara Walters,⁴ leave your set of numbers in comments, and I'll crunch the numbers and post your results when I get the chance. You don't necessarily have to subscribe to my interpretation of the appropriate metaphors for each criterion, either. Make up your own and give me those numbers if you like.

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¹ The similarity is determined by comparing each plant-rating criterion, C, against the respondent's rating, R, for each of the nine criteria as follows:
similarity = sqrt[(C1-R1)^2 + (C2-R2)^2 + (C3-R3)^2 + . . . + (C9-R9)^2]
It's not merely a matter of comparing the difficulty numbers and picking the three which are closest. Consequently, the results that come up may vary considerably in difficulty ranking, owing to differences in how difficulty-rating criteria are weighted relative to one another, and that sort of thing.
² I ran this both with the metaphorical propagation numbers and the literal ones, and the highest-ranking plant on both lists was P. gloriosum.
³ As not all possible values are represented among the plants, one cannot necessarily figure out what the person is like by knowing what their corresponding plant is. Philodendron gloriosum, for example, is not particularly bothered by pests (I had spider mites once), even though my pest number was very high: it's just the closest fit from among the nine values, among the 300ish plants for which I have values. Dad is totally a Schefflera actinophylla, though.
⁴ In 1981, during an interview with Katherine Hepburn, Barbara Walters asked "If you were a tree, what kind would you be?" This was of course roundly mocked at the time, though Walters has since defended the question by pointing out that Hepburn brought up the whole tree thing first, by saying she would like to be a tree.
So even if it's not going to help you if you run into Barbara Walters in a dark alley someplace (*shudder*), you never know when it might be handy to have a quick answer ready for questions like this.

Site-related: Difficulty numbers

Back in November, I sat down in front of the computer with the difficulty-numbers spreadsheet and started anew, plugging in whatever numbers seemed appropriate without consulting the old numbers first. This took a stupidly long time and failed to accomplish anything meaningful: most of the new numbers came out pretty close to the old ones. However, in a few cases, the experiences I'd had with a plant since generating the old difficulty numbers meant that the new difficulty numbers were significantly different. So I've had vague plans to change the numbers over to the new ones for two and a half months now, and I've decided to do this today. The sidebar list has already been put into the new order; I'll be going into the profiles to change the numbers there over the next day or two. This is unlikely to affect you in any way whatsoever, though in theory if you click on the right profile at the right time, you might see no number at the top, or something like that.

I won't give you the full list of changes, since, as I said, most of them were pretty similar to the old numbers anyway (and in a handful of cases, they were exactly the same), but here are the biggest movers, and reasons, where applicable:

Went from easier to harder:

Clivia miniata 'Aztec Gold,' without flower.
Clivia miniata (3.2 to 4.4) -- I think the main change here has to do with the fairly extreme switch in care between summer and winter, though I also may have initially underestimated their capacity for getting bugs. (Mine don't have bugs, knock wood, but I've seen mealys on other people's Clivias often enough that I'm taking it more seriously as a risk.)


Dracaena fragrans 'Massangeana.'
Dracaena fragrans 'Massangeana' (1.2 to 2.6) -- still an easy plant, overall, but I've had a lot of weird little things happen that make me think I was overestimating it before. Growing tips have died and resprouted (a side effect, I think, of watering from overhead; they don't like to get water stuck inside the growing tip), sprouts from the side of a cane have suddenly blackened for no reason, that kind of thing.


Begonia rex-cultorum 'Harmony's Red Robin.'
Begonia rex-cultorum (8.0 to 9.6) -- subsequent bad work experiences, plus the realization that nobody else is that great with these either, leads to Begonia stealing the most-difficult spot away from Gardenia. Though I still like my 'Texas Coffee Star,' or whatever it is, and it seems not to hate me nearly as much as every other rex begonia I've ever met.


Ledebouria sp.
Ledebouria socialis (2.2 to 3.9) -- Had some watering problems last summer. I still haven't figured out whether I was watering too much or not enough, but whichever it was, they weren't happy about it. It probably didn't help that I'd divided my plant into three last spring.


Dracaena sanderiana.
Dracaena sanderiana (1.1 to 3.5) -- Part of this is sheer unreasoning hatred: I've never liked these. But I've also had some problems with a plant that used to belong to the husband, that I've taken over care of. Some of the growing tips are dying, the soil has springtails (or something), I've seen lots of other people's plants just up and die over nothing. They're not good long-term plants.


Aspidistra lurida 'Milky Way.'
Aspidistra lurida 'Milky Way' (1.1 to 4.8) -- I recently lost my third A. lurida, in the winter, to unclear cultural problems. I thought I had it figured out the first time, but then the second died. So then I bought a third one, and it stuck around for an admirably long time, but it's died too. AND I DO NOT KNOW WHY. So I hate this plant. No more Aspidistras, ever. Even A. elatior, which I've never even tried before. Just because it's related.

Went from harder to easier:

Cissus quadrangularis.
Cissus quadrangularis (2.4 to 1.2) -- I don't actually know what numbers changed here to make this jump happen.


Pilea cadierei.
Pilea cadierei (6.0 to 4.8) -- Though still more difficult than your average plant (mostly because it needs more warmth and humidity than most), I think I was overcautious when I came up with the original numbers. It doesn't appear to have particularly unreasonable humidity requirements, and it's been growing fine in the basement all winter, so temperature isn't that big of a deal either.


Alworthia 'Black Gem.'
Alworthia 'Black Gem' (3.3 to 1.8) -- I have yet to have a problem with these. It's likely I was being more skittish about overwatering than has proven to be the case. (Though some of my success there may be because I have a really lean soil mix; I'm not sure if I'd be as confident if I were using Miracle Gro or something.)


Senecio macroglossus.
Senecio macroglossus (5.4 to 3.9) -- I still don't especially like the plant, but I suspect the watering problems I talked about in the original profile were partly a matter of bad soil and overpotting. I probably also wasn't giving the plant enough light, then. They seem fairly resilient, if still a little more difficult than the average houseplant.


Homalomena 'Emerald Gem.'
Homalomena 'Emerald Gem' (5.6 to 3.8) -- We've reached some sort of agreement, is all I can say. It's possible, again, that overpotting was part of the problem originally; it always threw leaves after I watered, and then stayed wet for a long time. Lately, though, it's been getting much better about this. It wilts slightly when it needs water, I give it water, and then it sends up three new leaves in quick succession. It still doesn't look as good as it did when I bought it: by this point, the stems are getting kind of leggy, and all the leaves are pointing straight up, because I have it under a fluorescent light and it doesn't really get any light from the side. But the new leaves are large and increasingly abundant, and there are even some new suckers. So we've turned a corner.


Synadenium grantii.
Synadenium grantii (3.5 to 1.7) -- Aside from some understandable trauma very recently (I transplanted some cuttings to a large pot, and they dropped leaves), and occasional dropped leaves to let me know I waited too long to water, I've never seen Synadenium grantii have a problem with anything. Not sure how it got the 3.5 rating to begin with, but I think 1.7 is about right.


Hylocereus sp.
Hylocereus undatus (3.1 to 1.2) -- It's a fugly, fugly plant, even when it's more or less healthy (and mine actually is a little etiolated, which doesn't make it prettier), but it's not hard to grow. I actually kind of wish it were a little harder to grow, so I had more of an excuse for the extreme hideousness.

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

I will admit that this particular batch is not my best. I've pretty well run out of new plants to get pictures of. The next batch, 19, is better than this, and there's always at least one pretty spectacular picture in each set, but there's sort of an overall let's call it a lull, from 18 to 23 or so.

What happened around Part 23 was, I realized that none of you guys are going back and looking at all the previous pictures anyway, so I can go back to plants I've gotten pictures of already and nobody will know, so Parts 24 and 25 ought to knock your socks off. Seriously. You will no longer be able to wear socks. But right now, we're at 18 and I know we've all seen better and I'm deeply sorry or something.

So let's hurry up and get this over with.

(The previous transmitted light posts, many of which are considerably better than this, can be found here.)

Hoya carnosa 'Chelsea.' The venation for thick leaves like this often wind up reminding me of clouds.

Syngonium podophyllum 'Neon.' There's an odd asymmetry to the symmetry here. I like it. It's different.

Homalomena cv. 'Perma Press.' Not terribly impressed with Homalomena cvv. as houseplants, but I will say for them that they have very graceful veins.

Fragaria cv. 'Fort Laramie.' I remember this as being a much better picture when I first took it. Either my memory is wrong, or something went badly awry during the cropping and editing process.

Streptocarpus 'Purple Martin.' I really am going to write that Streptocarpus profile someday, I promise. I've had some difficulty with it, in that I find it difficult to be interested.

Phlebodium aureum 'Blue Hare.' Maybe I should get one of these sometime. No idea how they'd do inside, and the growth habit is sort of wild and random, but the venation is so cool.

Ipomoea batatas 'Blackie.' Either this one or the Polypodium is my favorite from this group, I think: there's a lot of interesting detail in the full-size view, and it's a new color for these transmitted light pictures, kinda.

Anthurium andraeanum 'Pacora,' spathe. This didn't work out at all like I wanted. It might look a little better in full size.

Alternanthera cv. 'Partytime.' Interesting colors, though no individual leaf is all that impressive on its own: you sort of have to see the whole plant at once.

Solenostemon scutellarioides 'Splish Splash.' I've become somewhat disillusioned with coleus lately: I kept one indoors for over a year, and it didn't seem so terrible, though it was kind of leggy. Then I went kind of nuts buying them, discovered I didn't have anywhere to plant them, and they've had to suffer outdoors in tiny pots or inside without enough light. I'm not sure whether I'm going to try to keep them going through the winter or not: I know it's possible, but it's questionable whether this would be worth the trouble, when coleus is so easy to get in the spring. If I do keep some, 'Splish Splash' is likely to be one of the ones I keep.