Showing posts with label Orchidaceae. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Orchidaceae. Show all posts

Friday, March 31, 2017

Pretty picture: Paphiopedilum Delightfully Wood

And the very last of the orchid show orchids, possibly ever,1 is Paphiopedilum Delightfully Wood, which is either a dramatic climax or an anticlimax, depending on your feelings about Paphiopedilums.

This particular one is another Lehua Orchids hybrid, though I can't prove that because the page is no longer there. I copied the text on the page, though, because I've been burned before by trusting commercial sites' pages to stay up, and this particular text raised so many questions.

The start of our oxymoron series (what can be delightful about Wood?). We were conned into naming 12 mottled leaf Paphs. Naming the last one we were drawing a blank on a name. One of its parent was Zellwood Station. What could be more natural than Wood Wonder (because you always have to wonder about Wood). Paphiopedilum Wood Wonder went viral. At the time it was, and probably still is, the only AQ awarded in Japan to a non-Japanese cross. Just classic great spots.


Like, I don't know what most of that means (What's an AQ hybrid? How does an orchid go viral?2 Why are the spots "great?" What would "crappy" spots look like? How does one get conned into naming paphs, how much does it pay, and how could I make that happen to me?3), and I'm a little irked by "what can be delightful about Wood?" part. What isn't delightful about wood?4


Anyway. Now that that's out of my system --

This seems like a nice enough flower, I guess. Lots of different colors in it, and the leaves are attractively speckled.

Paphiopedilum Delightfully Wood = Paphiopedilum Wood Wonder x Paphiopedilum Odette's Charm (Ref.)

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1 (For the next year, at least: I didn't go to the show this year. Maybe starting in April 2018, if it turns out that I really, really miss the orchids.)
2 (I assume they mean viral in the social media sense. I know how orchids go viral in the biological infection sense.)
3 I mean, seriously, if you know of a job out there somewhere where a person just names plants all day, shoot me an application, because that sounds wonderful. I'm not fast, but I am thorough as a motherfucker. And enthusiastic, obviously.
4 No, seriously. It's strong, it's flexible, it removes carbon from the atmosphere, it's solar-powered, it's endlessly renewable, it's long-lasting (or at least can be), it comes in every color of the (brown) rainbow, it's biodegradable, it's (mostly) nontoxic, you can make paper, rayon, furniture, cellophane, vomit-absorption material, fuel, baskets, imitation vanilla extract, musical instruments, art, and cardboard out of it. Even rocks, though that's a slow process. Probably not very practical, while we have so many rocks just lying around all over the place.
It's worth having for the metaphors alone: wooden acting, morning wood, not out of the woods, two roads diverged in a wood, knock wood, coming out of the woodwork. The only things I can think of that aren't wonderful about wood are its susceptibility to termites and fire. So, seriously: how dare Lehua question the delightfulness of wood. If they hadn't already taken the page down, I would have to write them an angry e-mail.


Saturday, March 25, 2017

Pretty picture: Bulbophyllum mastersianum

I like the whole pretend-daisy (or Gerbera, Gazania, or whatever it's trying to do) thing, though I feel like it could be trying a little harder to do a full circle of flowers. Only the insects without any standards are going to bother with 75% of a flower. Have some self-respect, Bulbophyllum mastersianum.


I'm kidding, of course.


No insects have standards.


There was a Bulbophyllum mastersianum in 2014 as well, which is possibly even the same specimen. I mean, the 2016 one was bigger, but of course the 2016 one would be bigger than it was in 2014. So maybe.


Monday, March 20, 2017

Pretty picture: Rhyncattleanthe Mary Weiss (?)

Yet another roller-coaster in trying to track down an orchid name.

So. The tag said "C Mary Weiss." The International Orchid Registry doesn't have a Cattleya Mary Weiss, but it does have a Rhyncattleanthe Mary Weiss. So I was like, cool, problem solved.


And then I looked for photos of this orchid in previous years, as I do, and found one from the 2013 show that looks nothing like this. Where this one is mostly white, with a lavender / orange / magenta labellum, the other Rhyncattleanthe Mary Weiss is mostly pink, shading into coral or orange here and there, and then with a pink / coral / orange / magenta lip.

So, great. While it's possible, I guess, that they could be very different seedlings from the same grex (and it's worth noting that the shape of the flowers is almost exactly the same in both cases, whatever the colors might be), I wanted to find confirmation that the grex had that much range in color. So I went searching.

Which is how I discovered that Rhyncattleanthe Mary Weiss is completely ogooglebar. Why? Well, both "Mary" and "Weiss" are common enough names that there are lots of people by the name "Mary Weiss," which would be a problem in any case, but more particularly, one of the singers in The Shangri-Las is named Mary Weiss. So a first search for Mary Weiss will get you more than you ever wanted to know about "Leader of the Pack,"


but nothing about orchids.

Okay, you're thinking, so just search for "Mary Weiss orchid," or maybe "Rhyncattleanthe Mary Weiss," then.

If only it were so easy, because there's a Mary Weiss who was famously big into orchids, presumably the Mary Weiss that this grex is named for. So any search of "Mary Weiss orchid" gets you stories about Mary Weiss' love of orchids, and "Rhyncattleanthe Mary Weiss" yields every web page where Mary Weiss and Rhyncattleanthe are both mentioned. Of which there are many. Because Mary Weiss was super into orchids. Plus of course some percentage of the information about the grex would have the plant listed under the obsolete name Cattleya Mary Weiss instead.

Presumably, it would be possible to get to images of Rhyncattleanthe Mary Weiss if you're already in an orchid photo database, but I don't actually have one of those bookmarked (partly because I've been unimpressed with the quality of the ones I've seen -- they generally have lots of names but are not so good with photos).

Rhyncattleanthe Mary Weiss = Rhyncattleanthe Memoria Christine Sineni x Rhyncholaeliocattleya George King (Ref.)

I did manage to locate a large group of photos of pollen parent Rhyncholaeliocattleya George King last March when I was preparing these posts, at orchidroots.org, but even that was a pain in the ass, because orchidroots.org changed into orchidroots.com at some point over the last year so my initial link was broken and I had to search for orchidroots.org to find orchidroots.com. In any case, the range of colors of George King (variously white, pink, yellow, coral, lavender, or orange, if the photos are to be believed) makes it plausible that Mary Weiss might be similarly variable, so there's a good chance that this plant and the 2013 plant are in fact from the same grex and are both properly called Mary Weiss. I would check the Mary Weiss photos on orchidroots.com for myself, except that there are no photos on the Mary Weiss page. Because of course there aren't. And there doesn't seem to be anything about the seed parent, Rhyncattleanthe Memoria Christine Sineni, anywhere on the internet either.

So I'm basically left to throw my hands in the air and just say I don't know if this is correctly identified. It may be correct to call this plant and the 2013 plant Rhyncattleanthe Mary Weiss, and if forced to guess, I'd guess that these are both Mary Weiss, but that's me gambling on orchid show tags being reliable. And if we've learned nothing in the last seven years, it's that orchid show tags are not reliable.


Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Pretty picture: Phalaenopsis Jiuhbao Queen Diamond

This was a lot nicer in person; the lighting kind of screwed with it, alas.



Phalaenopsis Jiuhbao Queen Diamond = Phalaenopsis Chian Xen Queen x Phalaenopsis Haur Jin Diamond (Ref.)

This particular grex hasn't been on the blog before, but its seed parent (Phal. Chian Xen Queen) has, under the incorrect name of "Phal. ChAIn Xen Queen." That one is also a bad picture, on top of being misnamed. I feel like I should send the plant an apology card or something? (In fairness to myself, I was using the name from the tag -- it was only my second year with the orchid show and I hadn't yet learned to distrust the tags.)


Thursday, March 9, 2017

Pretty picture: Dendrobium parthenium

This one is at least kind of novel.


The camera had trouble with it (mostly-white flowers on a mostly-white background), but you can maybe kind of get the general idea anyway. It was tagged as Dendrobium sanderianum, but D. parthenium is, or at least was for a brief period last March, the correct name. Most of the photos that come up on-line for the species show a prominent purple throat on the flower (e.g.), as opposed to the greenish-yellow with a few thin reddish-purple lines here; a substantial minority are pretty uniformly white (e.g.).


The streaky leaves were interesting in person; I don't think they're actually supposed to look like that, based on the photos I found in image searches, but I don't know what would cause the streaks.


As far as I'm aware, Den. parthenium isn't related to any of the previous orchids I've posted about on PATSP, but it wouldn't necessarily surprise me if it were. I haven't always bothered to go into orchid genealogies at all, and I've only rarely followed the trail all the way back to the original species, so I wouldn't be surprised to find some Den. parthenium connection in the previous orchids if I were to look hard enough. All I know for sure is that there doesn't seem to be a connection to any of the Dendrobiums I did bother to investigate.


Saturday, March 4, 2017

Pretty picture: Oncidium Tiger Brew 'Pacific Holiday'

I'm not normally a big Oncidium Alliance guy, but I like this kind of thing.


It was probably my second-favorite orchid at the show, even.1 I really like the big flowers, and the patterning on them. (Yellow/brown isn't my favorite color combination; I'd rather have seen just about any other color scheme. But you get to photograph the orchids they have, not the orchids you want.)


Oncidium Tiger Brew = Oncidium Memoria Rudolf Pabst x Oncidium Tiger Hambühren (Ref.)

Previously, we've seen a half-sibling (Odontocidium (now Oncidium) Tiger Crow 'Golden Girl,' related via Oncidium Tiger Hambühren).

There is also Wilsonara (now Oncidium) Sheila Anne,2 which is Onc.Tiger Crow x Onc. Wearside Pattern. I spent a really long time staring at the relationships here and wound up not quite being able to figure it out, but I think Sheila Anne is the half-niece of Tiger Brew, or something along those lines.3

This orchid, and the other two previous orchids, all look pretty similar anyway. Tiger Crow is yellower, and lacks the brown outline around the tepals that Tiger Brew has, and Sheila Anne has large blotches of brown where the other two have a number of smaller spots, but even if you didn't know they were related, you'd probably suspect they were related.

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1 The actual favorite being Oncostele Midnight Miracles, which was, strangely enough, also an Oncidium Alliance orchid. Maybe I like them better than I think I do?
2 Spelled as "Sheila Ann" in the blog post, because apparently I still trusted the tagging to be accurate in 2011.
3 Not that concepts like "sibling" and "cousin" have a terribly distinct meaning anymore, once you're talking about hybrids of hybrids of hybrids, with everything so inbred and all. But orchid genealogy amuses me, so:
Oncidium Tiger Brew = Oncidium Memoria Rudolf Pabst x Oncidium Tiger Hambühren,
Oncidium Tiger Crow = Oncidium Crowborough x Oncidium Tiger Hambühren,
Oncidium Sheila Anne = Oncidium Tiger Crow x Oncidium Wearside Pattern.


Monday, February 27, 2017

Pretty picture: Paphiopedilum Sumurun 'Pearl' (?)

This was tagged Paphiopedilum Sumurum, but the International Orchid Registry doesn't have a plant by that name, and I think we all know how seriously to take orchid tags by now. The IOR does know of a Sumurun, though, which is what I'm assuming this is, and there's sort of confirmation at the Eastern Iowa Orchid Society newsletter from March 2014, which shows a very similar-looking flower on page 5, identified as Sumurun 'Pearl,' presumably the same specimen.


Further confirmation: among many other very interesting plants photographed at the Montreal Botanical Garden,1 this page includes a Sumurun 'Boholt' that resembles this flower, which is the best I could do for confirmation.


Paphiopedilum Sumurun = Paphiopedilum Boltonii x Paphiopedilum Christopher (Ref.)

I was unable to find photos of either parent, when I looked back in March. I did find a half-sibling (on the Boltonii side) that is also mostly white with some faint spotting, though I apparently didn't save the link so I can't show it to you.

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1 (In particular, I really like that Lycaste schilleriana 'Our Tropics Daiquiri.')


Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Pretty picture: Epidendrum Hokulea

Another Epidendrum of the type I don't like. Though at least the ID is fairly solid this time, unlike the last one.



Epidendrum Hokulea = Epidendrum Joseph Lii x Epidendrum cinnabarinum (Ref.)


Thursday, February 16, 2017

Pretty picture: Lycamerlycaste Jean Tolliday Kendolie

This looks a lot like the year's other Lycaste and Lycamerlycaste specimens. It's possible that I shouldn't have taken so many photos of them.


I mean, not that they're not nice and everything. There's just not a lot of variety.


This is the plant I described back in August as having "two flowers of almost exactly the same size, facing almost exactly the same direction," with the result looking "like I took a picture of one and then photoshopped it using the clone tool." Which is an exaggeration, but not by a hell of a lot:


I would also like to mention that the shape of the flowers in the above photo reminds me of acetylacetone,


a chemical I have strong, pleasant personal feelings about (because I am the sort of person who has feelings about specific chemicals sometimes1).

I should note that the plant was tagged as Lycaste at the show, but the International Orchid Registry has one of the parents as a Lycamerlycaste.2 And as goes the IOR, so goes my nation.

Lycamerlycaste Jean Tolliday Kendolie = Lycaste Shonan Harmony x Lycamerlycaste Geyser Gold (Ref.)

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1 Also in the "strong positive feelings" department: benzaldehyde, crown ethers, isopentyl acetate, eugenol, and, weirdly, thalidomide, which I like not for causing birth defects but because the shape of the molecule is strangely and inexplicably pleasing to me. So many molecules, especially pharmaceuticals, have their atoms arranged in an ugly way.
2 Lycamerlycaste is the nothogenus for crosses between Lycaste species and Sudamerlycaste species. The genus Sudamerlycaste was split off of Lycaste in 2002, says Wikipedia.


Saturday, February 11, 2017

Pretty picture: Zygolum Louisendorf [grex]

For reasons I do not understand, but would like to understand, some sites include "grex" as part of the name of this plant, i.e., "Zygolum Louisendorf grex" instead of the more typical "Zygolum Louisendorf." I don't believe I've ever seen this before. So if you know why people are bothering to write an extra word that would normally be assumed anyway, please leave a comment, 'cause I'm curious.


I appreciate the oddness of the brown/purple color combination, but I don't particularly find it pleasant.1 It's kind of what the Zygo- hybrids do, though, see Zygoneria Adelaide Meadows, Zygopetalum (Kiwi Klassic x Mishima Goddess), Zygopetalum Art[h]ur2 Elle, and Zygopetalum Jumping Jack. (The resemblance to Artur Elle is particularly strong, which makes sense, since Artur Elle is the pollen parent.)


Zygolum Louisendorf = Zygosepalum labiosum x Zygopetalum Artur Elle (Ref.)

Zygosepalum labiosum has a very broad, white labellum (lip), and doesn't look much like Louisendorf at all. In case you were wondering.

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1 Most of the photos on-line show a much darker brown, sometimes verging on black. (e.g.) Which I kind of like better, I think, but it'd still be a stretch to say I liked it liked it.
2 Some sites have this as "Artur Elle," without the "h," though I included the "h" in the previous post because that was how it was tagged. I didn't feel like spending the time today trying to find out whether or not the "h" belongs there, but I'm guessing that the h-less version is correct, since it's what the International Orchid Registry has. So I'm going h-less for this post.


Monday, February 6, 2017

Pretty picture: Paphiopedilum Imperial Jade 'Timberlane'

Yellow-brown is, as noted in a previous post, an allowed color for jade, so I suppose technically I have to be okay with a yellow-brown flower named "Imperial Jade."


But secretly, deep down, I am not okay with it.1


I'm pretty sure the spotting at the top of this flower is mechanical damage. I have in my notes from last year that I'm pretty sure it's not mechanical damage, but, you know, we were all a lot dumber and more naive back then.

Imperial Jade is a primary hybrid (hybrid of two species, as opposed to a hybrid of a species and a hybrid, or a hybrid and a hybrid):

Paphiopedilum Imperial Jade = Paphiopedilum stonei x Paphiopedilum primulinum (Ref.)

I haven't seen Imperial Jade before, but I've seen some of its relatives. Related on the Paph. stonei side is Paph. Lady Isabel (from the 2013 show), which is also a primary hybrid. On the Paph. primulinum side of the family, we've seen Paph. primulinum itself (2016), Paph. Pinocchio (2013), and Paph. Prim-N-Proper (2012). I don't feel like Imperial Jade particularly resembles any of its relatives, but I suppose you can decide about that for yourself.

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1 (I realize I have no room to point fingers about color accuracy in plant names, considering how some of the Schlumbergeras have behaved.)


Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Pretty picture: Phalaenopsis [probably not] Minho Princess

Of all the reasons not to go to the orchid show this year, I think the one closest to my heart is that it will prevent me from seeing a new batch of incorrectly-spelled orchid ID tags.


It's not that misspellings are traumatic in themselves. This one isn't even that bad, all things considered: a simple transposition of two vowels from a combination which doesn't appear that often in modern English (AE) to a combination that does (EA). Totally understandable. What really gets to me, though, is the lack of proofreading. You've already made the sign, it's sitting there right in front of you, you're looking at it -- how do you not pause for a fraction of a second to ask yourself, does this look right?

Or maybe it did look right. Which is perhaps even more upsetting.

Anyway. Thank you for indulging me in one more grumpy orchid-proofreading ramble before I stop doing the orchid posts. To reward you, I will tell you that the letters of the word "Phalaenopsis" can be rearranged in 59,875,200 distinguishable permutations,1 including "a snail shoppe," "a posh spaniel," "hapless piano," and "polishes a pan."


So this is the plant in question. I think there's a pretty good chance that it isn't Minho Princess. Why? I couldn't find any photos of Minho Princess on-line that looked like this. I mean, I suppose it could just be a really variable grex, but the photos I found all showed a mostly white flower, with a little pink-purple along the largest veins, and some more pink-purple at the margins. (Example 1, example 2, example 3, example 4, example 5, example 62) The online photos for a highly-variable grex shouldn't be this uniform. So I conclude that somewhere along the line, the wrong ID became associated with the plant, probably at the original seller. Sellers don't think their customers give a crap about IDs, so they don't feel like they have to give a crap about IDs either.


I like the plant. The blooms are obviously pretty striking close-up, but the contrast was visible from surprisingly far away, too. I wish there was some way of, you know, learning the name of this plant that I like.

[Phalaenopsis Minho Princess = Phalaenopsis Sun Prince x Phalaenopsis Ta Lin Freeds (Ref.), though that doesn't matter because this isn't Minho Princess.]

In (now somewhat-old) Anthurium news, I purged the Anthuriums in the living room, the ancestral varieties that produced all the original seedlings. 'Pandola' is gone. The NOID red is gone. The NOID dark red that never bloomed is gone. 'Gemini' is gone. 'White Gemini' is gone. 'Peppermint Gemini' is gone. 'Orange Hot' is gone. All three copies of the NOID pink are gone. 'Krypton' is gone. The NOID red-violet that might or might not have also been 'Krypton' is gone. All four of the 'Florida's are gone (though I'm pretty sure they never contributed anything genetically. Moral support, perhaps.).

There were also a couple ancestral plants in the basement, pre-purge. The NOID pink-green is gone. 'Joli' is gone. The small pot of salvaged cuttings from the NOID purple, which had only just gotten old enough to bloom, is gone.

My goodness. So what isn't gone, Mr. S.?

The NOID purple, and two backup copies of 'Red Hot.' And one 'Red Hot' is looking a little shaky, to be honest.

I'm not sure how to feel about this. On the one hand, in theory, the genes from the founding generation are present in the surviving seedlings; the founders had already made themselves redundant. Not to mention that there were ghost mites, Xanthomonas, or both, on all the plants I threw out, and it's good to get rid of pest/disease reservoirs. On the other hand, this means that if I were to decide to start over with the seedlings, I'd have to buy new Anthuriums to start over with. And, as it happens, the ex-job is now even more of an ex-job than it used to be, because they're no longer in business, so I'm not even sure where I'd get the replacement Anthuriums from.3

In any case. The founding-Anthuriums purge is upsetting, and also it's not.4 Just like the ex-job closing is both upsetting and not. Ditto the really big plant-related thing I've alluded to a few times now but haven't been able to bring myself to name and describe yet, which was both devastating and an enormous relief. The last three months have been fucking weird.

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1 Assuming that my math is correct. A twelve-letter word in which no letters are duplicated should have 12! (= 479,001,600) different permutations; since "phalaenopsis" has three letters duplicated (a, p, and s), I think the number of combinations should be 12!/(2^3) = 59,875,200.
2 In March or April last year, I found two more sites which showed Minho Princess with the same coloration as the others; those links have since 404ed. But six examples should be enough to get the idea.
3 They announced this in mid-November. I think this was a deliberate decision to retire, rather than the owners finding themselves forced out by the economic climate or whatever. But they'd been talking about closing or relocating since at least 2008, and since I didn't go back to chat with them or anyone else who worked there, I'm not sure that it wasn't motivated by declining sales.
I never understood how they could price plants at triple the big-box and grocery-store prices and stay in business in the first place. But then, I don't have a keen business mind.
Should note that I don't feel particularly upset about the ex-job being gone. I rarely visited anymore; when I did, I didn't generally buy anything. There are also some not-great memories associated with the place, which time has faded but not eliminated entirely: although things weren't super-ugly when I left, the bad was outweighing the good by that point. (Some of this was my fault, some of it wasn't. Somewhere in my various files is a draft for a blog post titled "Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Garden Center Workers." Which is still good advice. Eight years since I left, and I still can't look at poinsettias without a small jolt of dread.)
Still. End of an era, and all that. I don't entirely understand why I didn't go back to see the place one last time, or talk to the people who still worked there. Had I visited early enough, I could even have picked up some new houseplants for a mere 2.25 times the big-box price. It wasn't that I didn't care, but -- the idea of going back to see the store gradually clear out made me uneasy in some difficult-to-explain way, so I never did. And now it's gone. Or gone-ish, anyway.
Also: if a family-owned garden center in the area had to close down, why couldn't it have been Pierson's?
4 Watering the living room for the first time, post-purge, took me 3.7 hours. That no doubt sounds like a lot of time to spend watering, but the most recent five pre-purge waterings took 4.3, 5.1, 5.4, 5.5, and 6.4 hours. Not only do I save time watering, but I no longer have those periodic pangs of should I throw this one out? Is that Xanthomonas? Are those ghost mites? to deal with. It's definitely not all bad.


Thursday, January 26, 2017

Pretty picture: Coelogyne Jannine Banks 'Snow White'

It's maybe a little bit odd that there have only been 2 Coelogyne in PATSP history, and both of them happened this year.

Not odd as in mysterious beyond all human fathoming or anything. But it's weird enough to acknowledge.


Sort of a stereotypically orchidy flower, the sort of thing that should be on a shampoo bottle or something. It's fine, but it didn't photograph well, and it's not like my jaw dropped when I saw it either. Truthfully, I'm more impressed with the foliage. There are better photos of the flowers here and some much better photos here, if you're interested.


Coelogyne Jannine Banks is a primary hybrid (a hybrid of two species), which is a little bit interesting, maybe:

Coelogyne Jannine Banks = Coelogyne mooreana x Coelogyne flaccida (Ref.)

They're both white (though flaccida is sometimes more of a cream or tan); in my opinion Jannine Banks takes more after (and is aesthetically inferior to) mooreana, but if you say it resembles flaccida more, I'm not going to challenge you to a parking lot knife fight over it or anything.


Saturday, January 21, 2017

Pretty picture: Paphiopedilum hirsutissimum

I was looking through previous orchid posts for some other previously-posted plant when I ran across a 2011 post about Paphiopedilum esquirolei, and I thought, huh, that looks an awful lot like this year's Paphiopedilum hirsutissimum, I wonder if one or the other was misidentified.


So I looked into it, and it seems that Paph. esquirolei is now officially Paph. hirsutissimum var. esquirolei, a variety "having shorter hairs on the ovary and peduncle and less hairy flowers." (Ref.)

Orchid taxonomy being what it is, this is probably no longer true either, but it looked true last March.


As the name implies, the flowers are covered in tiny hairs (much easier to see in the full-size version of the photo).

Paph. hirsutissimum is native to southeast Asia; I could try to describe the natural range for you, but it's easier on all of us if you just look at the map I found.


Sunday, January 15, 2017

Pretty picture: Rhyncattleanthe Hsinying Catherine 'Dogashima'

Supposedly fragrant, but as usual, I can't verify that.


The internet failed to give me much interesting information on this one; the most interesting comment I ran across was "to be pronounced at one's own risk," which maybe I've just been doing this too long but I don't see anything especially difficult in the name, long and unfamiliar though it is. Is it not, "RIN-kat-lee-ANN-thee SIN-ying KATH-ur-inn doh-guh-SHE-muh?" 'Cause that's how I pronounce it in my head.1


Doesn't do much for me one way or another, but sure, it's fine, whatever.

Rhyncattleanthe Hsinying Catherine = Cattleya Fair Catherine x Rhyncattleanthe Love Sound (Ref.)

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1 The site has it as a Brassolaeliocattleya, instead of a Rhyncattleanthe, which seems even easier, pronunciation-wise: BRASS-o-LAY-lee-o-KAT-lee-uh.
I looked for an official pronunciation for Rhyncattleanthe on-line and found a page that has a lot of orchid genus pronunciations on it; they say I have it wrong, that it's either (rin-KAT-lee-AN-thee) or (rin-kat-lee-AN-thee). I'm pretty sure I was close enough for casual conversation.
And as I've said previously, it's dumb to let yourself get too hung up on trying to pronounce botanical names correctly, either as a novice scared to make the attempt for fear of getting it wrong or as an expert chastising novices for errors. Make the attempt. If someone else has a pronunciation that seems more reasonable than the one you're using, switch; if not, keep doing what you're doing. And if someone gets all superior with you about pronunciations and tries to make you feel stupid, punch 'em in the dick and move on.
(Punching someone else is assault, and you shouldn't do it. I've just been looking for an excuse to link the video for a long time now. Should have known it'd come up in the context of orchids.)


Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Pretty picture: Tetratonia Dark Prince

The purge of the 4-inch Anthuriums has come and gone, and the losses were much less severe than I'd expected,1 largely because I'd underestimated the degree to which the 4-inch plants had been purged already, but also because many of them were still young enough plants that they hadn't developed any serious problems yet. Is this a good thing? Is it a bad thing? *shrug* Who knows.

I haven't really tried to purge the 3-inch Anthuriums -- I threw out four plants on 3 January, out of 398 (so 99% survival), but I didn't have the time to examine each seedling individually and make decisions. As I watered, I just threw out seedlings that were obviously in bad shape, which is what I should be doing all the time anyway.2

In any case. Discarding the 4-inch Anthuriums was less painful than expected,3 but the 3-inch purge hasn't really happened yet. And there's your purge report.

Now, the orchid of the day:


We've seen Tetratonia Dark Prince before, in 2014. That post complements this one well, since I got close-up and wide shots this year, and a medium-distance photo then.


Tetratonia Dark Prince is allegedly easy to grow (Ref.), and supposedly blooms a couple times a year for months at a time (Ref.). Though one of those sites is trying to sell you a plant, so some skepticism is probably warranted.

Tetratonia Dark Prince = Broughtonia sanguinea x Tetramicra canaliculata (Ref.)

The patterning on the lip appears to be mostly a Tetramicra trait; see the photos of T. canaliculata near the bottom of this page.

Wikipedia has a page for Broughtonia sanguinea that strikes me as sort of interesting.

Both parents of Tetratonia Dark Prince are Caribbean; Broughtonia sanguinea is native to Jamaica, and Tetramicra canaliculata is fairly widely distributed: Puerto Rico, Trinidad, Hispaniola, Florida,4 and the Lesser Antilles.

Hoping to get a Schlumbergera seedling post up before the next orchid; the delay is mainly because I'm having difficulty settling on names, and difficulty settling on a process for generating names. One seedling had a perfect name show up immediately, so I can write about that immediately(-ish); for the rest of them, I'm keeping a list of plausible names for each seedling, and I guess adding to the lists until I have a certain number of good ones, and then I'll agonize and choose. This means I'm not going to be blogging them in the order they bloomed, like I did in previous years. You won't notice the difference, but it's going to bother me.

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1 (127 seedlings to start with, 33 discarded, 94 kept, 74% survival)
2 I don't always bother because sometimes I'm having to rush through the watering, and throwing out seedlings is a lot more of a pain in the ass than you'd think, because there are so many spreadsheets to update afterward.
3 Most painful loss of this round was probably 0072 Beth Rowe, which bloomed well and had interesting-colored flowers, but also had thrips damage, pretty clear Xanthomonas, and possibly also scale. I tried, but couldn't rationalize keeping Beth.
0515 Diane Torr was hard too. Her blooms never quite lived up to their potential: one bloom had, like, one or two good days, which I was lucky enough to catch in a photo, but she didn't bloom a lot, most of the blooms never had a photogenic day due to thrips damage, occasionally spathes would refuse to open, and the leaves had a lot of thrips damage as well. Really interesting color, though.
4 In my notes, I have a question mark after Florida; the claim is debated.


Thursday, January 5, 2017

Pretty picture: Oncidium Heaven Scent 'Redolence'

Usually, when an orchid at the show has a scent, I can't confirm it, either because there are so many competing fragrances that I can't tell which one belongs to the plant in question, or because the plant is inaccessible. In this particular case, I was able to confirm that there's a scent.


Which it really ought to be fragrant, considering that the name for both the grex and clone makes reference to an odor.

The flowers resemble Onc. Sharry Baby so much that I was expecting the smell to be similar too. Sharry Baby smells a lot like sweet, vanilla-heavy chocolate, and is really pleasant, so that's what I was expecting, but that's not what I got. Instead, it was "more floral," according to my notes from March, and I didn't actually like it. It may be that being primed to expect vanilla/chocolate made the floral smell less pleasant than it would have been otherwise; it's also possible that it's just a disagreeable fragrance, though the name suggests that the breeders didn't think so.


It also turns out that Onc. Heaven Scent is half descended from Onc. Sharry Baby. I mean, you can totally see it in the appearance, but I wouldn't have guessed from the fragrance. So that's also interesting or disappointing or something.

Oncidium Heaven Scent = Oncidium Ruffles x Oncidium Sharry Baby (Ref.)

In other news, as I write this (Tuesday morning), I have completed the first part of the Anthurium purge, getting rid of 32 seedlings, 3 parents ('Joli,' NOID green/pink, and salvaged cuttings of the NOID purple), and one miscellaneous other plant (Aglaonema 'Sapphire Suzanne,' which was overdue for discarding: it hasn't been happy since it arrived here.). I was also probably more lenient with certain highly beloved plants than I should have been, which will no doubt make the whole process completely futile, but even so: only a 39% pass rate on the first round.

The 3-inch and 4-inch plants will be both harder and easier to deal with. They're harder because there are a lot more of them, and because in most (3-inch) or about half (4-inch) of the cases, there's no bloom to evaluate yet, and I'll have to gamble, in part, on what I think the bloom might look like. Easier because in the cases where there are blooms to evaluate, the blooms are disproportionately garbage (if they were good blooms, the plant would have been promoted to a 6-inch pot and then purged on Monday), and many of the 4-inch plants have been around a very long time without ever even trying to bloom, so it's probably safe to conclude that they don't intend to and I don't need to keep taking care of them. So my expectation is that the pass rate for the 3-inch plants will be higher than 39%, and the rate for the 4-inch plants will be lower.

Some non-Anthuriums will be dumped here and there too, eventually. I'll be focusing particularly on the Dracaenas (bacterial or fungal leaf spot) and Aglaonemas (ghost mite reservoir).


Saturday, December 31, 2016

Pretty picture: Phalaenopsis Norman's Jade

By now, the reader will have noticed that PATSP has been nothing but orchids for the last six weeks or so, and I feel like I should explain. The plants, led by the Anthurium seedlings, chose November to try to break my heart. It's not yet clear whether they succeeded in breaking it, exactly, but it's at least pretty damaged. And this is on top of the episodic panic attacks and what have you; the plants waited until I was weak to strike. As they do.

November was shitty.

How did they try to break your heart, you may be asking. Well, on top of the scale that I've been trying to get rid of for the last five years or so, which I periodically get really close to eliminating via imidacloprid and then discover that nope, it's still here, and on top of the thrips, which have been uglifying the Anthurium flowers and leaves for nearly as long, and for which the only remotely effective cure is "white oil," which not only makes the whole house smell like rancid vegetable oil for weeks afterward but also causes all the Anthuriums to drop any flowers or buds they might have, and doesn't even eliminate the thrips, I've added two new ongoing and ineradicable1 plagues to the Anthurium seedlings.

The Xanthomonas infection has been spreading through the Anthuriums for most of this year (also likely before this year -- I suspect it came in on the NOID pink/green Anthurium -- but bacteria that spread via water droplets really go nuts when you start spraying all the foliage with water every time you water, in an attempt to blast off the thrips, which didn't even work), and is now uglifying some of the seedlings which had remained more or less pristine through the thrips and scale. There's also, as far as I can tell, nothing I can actually do about it, save for throwing out all the affected seedlings. I'm aware of a treatment that places beneficial, or at least non-harmful, bacteria on the leaves, making it harder for Xanthomonas to establish itself, but as far as I can tell, that's only a preventative measure, and doesn't do anything to cure plants once they've been infected. If there's a way to cure infected plants, I haven't run across it yet, and if I did run across it, odds are good that I wouldn't be able to afford it. So it's possible that the only option I've got is to throw out all the affected plants and hope to outrun the Xanthomonas, which I'd be more optimistic about if that had worked for me with any plant pest or disease ever.

And then in just the last couple months, the mysterious unidentified mites from this post in 2014 have made their way to the Anthuriums downstairs. (They'd been on the upstairs ones, intermittently, for longer, but I hadn't made the connection between the mites and the leaf damage until the last few weeks: I'd been assuming thrips. The ghost mites2 prefer to feed on larger leaf veins, and appear in such numbers that affected leaves wind up looking like they've been hit by especially anal-retentive thrips: dead brown streaks that follow all the large veins, with relatively little damage in the spaces between them. The ghost mites also seem to be perfectly happy hitting older leaves, as opposed to the thrips, which prefer new growth, so really there was no reason to ever think that this was thrips damage, but perhaps I can be forgiven for not being willing to believe that I had another plant pest in the house, given the circumstances.

And it hasn't just been the Anthuriums, of course. Had a scary bunch of defoliation happen on the Neofinetia falcata out of nowhere, which briefly had me convinced that it was in the process of dying. (It has since stabilized, or at least wants me to think it has. No doubt waiting until I'm weak again.) A number of Dracaenas have broken out in spots that remind me of pictures I've seen somewhere. I can't remember if the pictures were of a bacterial leaf spot disease or a fungal leaf spot disease, as if the distinction matters. A very tall Pilosocereus pachycladus fell into my shoulder during watering, which hurt (spines in the shoulder! Lots of them!) and then hurt (the part of the cactus that hit me the hardest hollowed out and turned blue, purple, and finally black -- it's not clear whether the damage is continuing to spread).

I had decided in the spring of 2016 that I was done with the Euphorbia grandicornis. It was a salvaged cutting from a much larger plant that had never done very well for me, due to inadequate light, but I couldn't quite bear to just throw it out, so instead I planted it in one of the Canna beds, figuring that it could live (for a while) if it wanted to, and we'd see how that went. Naturally it loved it outside, even after the Cannas grew over it and I forgot that it was even there. Saw it in the fall and was like, holy crap, that's pretty impressive, maybe it deserves a chance to live in the house after all.

So I pulled it up and brought it inside,

You can probably figure out which is this year's new growth, yes?

and gave it its own pot of fresh soil. Whereupon it immediately shriveled, blackened, and died, proving once and for all that the Euphorbiaceae is the least appreciative plant family. A Gasteria seedling (the last one in this post, the light green one with thin leaves) died on me without warning or explanation. Lost another Polyscias seedling (#10), and now #8 isn't looking so hot.

Even the Schlumbergera seedlings are letting me down a little bit this year. As predicted, I've finally seen some colors outside of the red / orange-red / red-orange / orange / light orange spectrum, which should be good. But A) not nearly as many as I had expected, and B) the non-red/non-orange seedlings have been very similar to plants I already had: the NOID white seedlings have been either white/white or magenta/white, and the NOID magenta seedlings have been magenta/white, white/white, or in the red-to-orange spectrum. The three second-generation seedlings (all from 025A Clownfish) have been orange/white (239A), orange/pink (240A), and red/pink (244A). So I'm not breaking any new ground at all, color-wise.3 Plus, the most recent first blooms have been all chewed-up,

(Seedling 069A, first bloom)

because the thrips have finally eaten enough Schlumbergera petals from the early-blooming seedlings that they've multiplied and prospered. Now the thrips can start attacking the late-blooming buds, meaning the late blooms look like shit as soon as they open.

And this isn't even all; there's one plant-related thing from November/December that is literally still too painful for me to tell you about,4 there's the usual steady stream of Anthurium-seedlings hitting the walls and exploding5 (28 seedlings since mid-November), there are the mostly-disappointing new Anthurium blooms,6 there's the first scale sighting on a Clivia since I've had Clivias. And, mostly, there's the increasingly firm conviction that nothing I do is going to make any of these things go away. There are too many plants, too many hiding places -- the only way forward is to dump a bunch of them, cure the remaining ones, and then build back up again. Or maybe the smart thing would be not to build back up again.

So the reason I haven't been blogging about the plant collection is that the plant collection is horrible, and hurts just to think about, and I've been on the verge of throwing out like 95% of the Anthuriums for something like the last six weeks but haven't been able to bring myself to do it. Throwing them all out is clearly an overreaction, throwing none of them out is obviously an underreaction, throwing some of them out requires hard choices about who lives and who dies and why, plus if I keep a seedling I should have thrown out then I don't even get rid of the problem. So I've been continuing to water and despair, postponing the decision, while everything gets worse. I'm no longer starting new Anthurium seeds already, as of 23 October: the berries just wither and die on the spadices now. This wasn't originally a conscious decision, but once I realized I was doing it, I decided it was just as well, so it's a conscious decision now. Not sure whether I'm going to bother potting up all the seedlings that have already germinated: I'm postponing that decision too.

I'm toying with the idea of going on indefinite hiatus from the blog as of late March, when the last of the 2016 orchid photos is scheduled.7 This is more likely to happen than not, I think, because the plants have been steadily less and less fun over the last five years and there are things I would rather do with my time,8 but I do still want to get the Schlumbergeras named -- hardly urgent, but I've come up with some names I like and want to use them -- and although I'm not sure you need to see all ten, at least half of the Anthurium blooms since the last Anthurium seedling post are interesting in one way or another. So there will probably be some non-orchid posts coming eventually. We'll see how I feel about plants in March. (If you hear me humming "Freedom 90" a lot in February,9 brace yourself.10)

Almost doesn't seem worth bothering with the orchid, but I promised a Phalaenopsis in the title, so here you go.

*deep breath*

"Jade" seems like an exaggeration. I mean, yeah, yellow jade is a thing, as an image search will confirm for you, but it's not the color people think of when they hear "jade." I have a note here that the bloom closest to the tip of the spike was darker yellow than the others, but I can't remember whether that means it was the youngest bloom or the oldest bloom. Which direction do Phalaenopsis buds open, again?


I also noted that I got really tired of light yellow, when I was going through the photos from this year's show. Didn't notice it as a theme when I was taking the photos, though.

I found photos of a couple named clones of Norman's Jade ('Green Angel' and 'Montclair Canary'), the first of which seemed sort of green, but alas, both were on a site that sells orchids, and the pages have been taken down since I found them, presumably because they're no longer selling those particular clones.


I suppose in the abstract, this is a nice color,11 but it doesn't do much for me as a Phalaenopsis.

Phalaenopsis Norman's Jade = Phalaenopsis Prospector's Dream x Phalaenopsis Norman's Mist (Ref.)

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1 (?)
2 (My own term; I still don't know what they are. I'm positive they're not cyclamen mites or spider mites, though. Or at least not the normal species of cyclamen/spider mites: they're not rounded and shiny enough to be cyclamen mites, and they're the wrong color, and not mobile enough, to be spider mites. They also don't produce webbing like spider mites. Therefore: ghost mites. Until I come up with an ID.)
3 It is beginning to seem plausible that the cross that started this whole thing, the 'Caribbean Dancer' x NOID peach, was the only cross I could have made that would have resulted in anything new or interesting, and it's just dumb luck that it happened to be the cross I started with.
4 Q: well Jesus, Mr. S., if you're not going to tell us what it is then why even bring it up?
A: I don't know. I'm sorry.
5 Dramatization (you have to imagine that the cars are seedlings):
6 As well as two that weren't disappointing at all. Or, well, one that wasn't disappointing at all -- 0802 Dana International, my first dark(ish) purple -- and one that looks likely to be my first green seedling, provided that the bud doesn't drop (1268 Lil' Miss Hot Mess). It'll be a while before 1268 is officially not disappointing.
7 Why not immediately? Well, I made notes on the orchid posts when I uploaded the pictures, so I don't have to work as hard to come up with something to say about them. Schlumbergera- or Anthurium-seedling posts require more work. Posts about other plants are even more work than that.
8 Like what? I dunno. Maybe I'll dye my hair. Maybe we'll move somewhere. Etc.
More seriously, I'm working out a lot. Like, a lot. It helps with the panic.
9 (♫ Take back your pictured pollen grains / Take back your yellowed, dead dumb canes / I just hope you understand / Sometimes the plants do not make the man ♩♪)
10 Also, RIP George Michael. :^(
11 I mean, if you get abstract enough, any color is as nice as any other. They're just varying proportions of photons, of different energies, hitting your retina and being interpreted as color by your brain. Seems silly to say this combination of photons is beautiful but that combination of photons is disgusting. But we say that. All the time.


Sunday, December 25, 2016

Pretty picture: Paphiopedilum (Mildred Hunter x Adam Hausermann) x Winston Churchill

Well. Chalk up another cross for good ol' Winston Churchill, I guess. This one's nice, if not particularly different. Which is just as well, since it's Christmas and no one is going to see this post anyway.


Ancestry stuff:

Paphiopedilum Mildred Hunter = Paphiopedilum Atlantis x Paphiopedilum Everest (Ref.)

Paphiopedilum Adam Hausermann= Paphiopedilum Telesis x Paphiopedilum Gigi (Ref.)

Paphiopedilum Winston Churchill = Paphiopedilum Eridge x Paphiopedilum Hampden (Ref.)


We've seen Paph. Winston Churchill 'Indomitable' previously, in 2012, and various half-siblings have shown up in 2013 (Paph. Cheryl Ann Boyd) and 2015 (Paph. (Adam Hausermann x Winston Churchill) and Paph. Keyshill). The half-siblings are all pretty similar: some variation of shape, a little variation in color, but otherwise basically the same.


Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Pretty picture: Epidendrum Petticoat Pink

. . . or maybe it's Epi. Sun Valley 'Pink Petticoats.' I couldn't find a "Petticoat Pink" in the International Orchid Registry. I did find a Sun Valley 'Pink Petticoats' on the internet, but the color isn't a close enough match for me to be confident about the ID. So I don't know what this is for sure.


And I mostly don't care, either. Not only am I not that into this kind of Epidendrum (though I like the ones with the orange/green/magenta combination, like Epi. pseudoepidendrum, the hybrids tend to be shaped more like this one, e.g. Rose Valley 'Caribbean Dream' or Neon Valley. I appreciate the distinct shape and arrangement of the hybrids, I guess, but they're just not my thing.