Saturday morning Sheba and/or Nina picture

The Pellionia pulchra is really getting out of control. I have plans to replant the tank, honestly I do, and I feel like a terrible lizard father every time I look at it. Replanting is a big production, unfortunately, so it's difficult to find the time to do it.

Also still trying to get the availability list presentable, so the selling can commence. Not doing a terribly good job on that either.

Walkaways Part 18

None of these are quite as unusual as the Tillandsia dyeriana, but I thought they were interesting.

Anthurium 'Sensa.'

(close-up of flowers: new on left, old on right)
Anthurium 'Sensa' is the one I most wanted to buy, which makes little sense, really, since I already have a lot of Anthuriums, including a couple with similar spathe colors. I just have a hard time resisting Anthuriums, I think is the deal. It's still a nice color, though, and Anthuriums are particularly tempting to me now because I'm trying to cross mine and start seedlings, so I see a plant with a newly-emerged flower and all I can think about is all the pollen it's going to be producing, and how desperately I must have said pollen.

Sedum indicum var. yunnanense, crested form
Plant List says that the actual name is Sinocrassula yunnanensis. This didn't do a lot for me, though I suppose I can see how someone might find it interesting. From the internet, I see the main use of S. yunnanensis is as a rock garden plant (they're hardy to zone 7, googlegedly), but I ran into a few pictures of them in containers. They apparently never do much more than this, forming little clumps of rosettes.

Dieffenbachia 'Delilah.'
This picture didn't turn out anywhere near as well as I'd hoped it would. (There's a better one here.)

I probably shouldn't try to grow Dieffenbachias. It's not that I can't: with a few exceptions ('Camouflage,' 'Sterling'), they grow fine for me, as long as I keep them out of direct sun and warm, dry air.

Instead, the problem is that after growing well for a while, they'll reach the point where they're too tall and leggy to fit in their spot, or they're always threatening to fall over, or they just don't look good anymore, and then I have to decide what to do with them. I don't have the patience (or experience) for air-layering, so I've always just cut them back and tried to root the tops. Occasionally this has worked, but usually it doesn't. And the stumps are supposed to resprout: occasionally that has worked, but usually it doesn't. (Some varieties seem to be better about rooting and resprouting than others: 'Tropic Snow' does well, as does a NOID that resembles 'Triumph.') So 'Delilah' is appealing, but I think I'm going to have to wait on getting more dieffs until I've figured out how to air-layer them.

Adromischus maculatus.
I had a bad experience with a plant I think was an Adromischus, a few years ago when the plant obsession was just starting up. It stayed alive, but the new growth was weak and pale and it was obviously not getting enough light, so I gave up on it after about five months. I could probably do better now, because although I don't have southern exposure, I do have artificial lights. Perhaps someday.

Guzmania NOID.

Same plant, from top.
Finally, a Guzmania coloration I haven't seen before, and think is really pretty. No ID tag, though. Of course.

The good news is that Guzmanias are pretty easy to keep alive. The bad news is that their strong will to live means I don't treat mine particularly well, so they're not very big and they've never rebloomed. (I know about the apple trick. I just don't think my plants are strong enough to bloom, so I haven't pushed.) This is a fascinating (to me) variety, though: I really like the white/black/orange combination.

Pretty picture: Phalaenopsis NOID

No tag at all, but that's okay, since it's just a Phalaenopsis. I mean, I know Phalaenopsis cultivars have names too, but it's so rare to find one that's identified that I've more or less stopped expecting IDs.

As for the flower itself: I kind of like these varieties with the big dots, even if Phalaenopsis don't do much for me in general. Has anybody ever seen this in a color combination besides white and purple?

Somewhat last-minute grab bag

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

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


1. Philodendron bipinnatifidum sucker


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

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


2. Tacca chantrieri flower, close-up


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

Yep, still weird.


3. New plant: Euphorbia milii 'Candyland'


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


4. Springtails on a dead Cyclamen


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

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

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


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


5. Murraya paniculata seed sprouts


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


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


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


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


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

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

Pretty picture: Miltassia Charles M. Fitch x Odontocidium Black Beauty

The tag just said "C. M. Fitch," but the internet says the C is for Charles.

I'm not sure why, exactly, but I kind of like this even though it's plainer than the orchids I normally go for. Perhaps it's just that the color is unusual.

Saturday morning Sheba and/or Nina picture

This is a little blurry because it was taken (via a side mirror) while the car was in motion, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.

This week was the anniversary week of bringing Sheba home from the shelter. I checked my personal journal to confirm this, and ran into the list of names we were considering for her.

One option I'd considered privately, but didn't include in the poll, was "Pandora," after the contestant from Season 2 of RuPaul's Drag Race, and I kinda wish I'd gone with that now, since it's nicely symmetrical with Nina (also a RPDR contestant name) and Pandora is my favorite from that season, like Nina was my favorite from the first season.

This would have obligated us to get a third pet a year later, who we would have had to name Yara, and then a fourth pet this year named Chad, Sharon, or Latrice,¹ so it's probably all for the best that I never got started down this particular road. We only have just so much in the budget for pet food. (Though the idea of a pet guinea pig named Yara is surprisingly compelling. . . .)

But.

I am occasionally still bothered by the name "Sheba." It's not that I find it objectionable on its own; it's just that we didn't pick it out, so there's no personal significance to her name; it doesn't reflect our tastes or whatever. And then sometimes I'm concerned when we're telling someone else her name, that they'll think we picked it out, and I want to make sure they know we didn't, which doesn't even make sense because it's not like Fervor wouldn't come across as way more off-putting and harder to explain.² In any case, I'd wondered whether going with the shelter-assigned name would bother me, back when we were making the decision, and it turns out that yes, it does. Lesson learned.

-

¹ I can't decide on a favorite this year! On the one hand, Sharon Needles is originally Iowan, and very weird and creative (I'm particularly fond of her plastic surgery and pea-green/coral glam outfits.), and has the best name.
But Latrice, though not quite as fabulous with the outfits (check out her Ursula hair and makeup, though), is still a lot of fun to watch, and it would be awfully nice for a big girl to win a season, especially after stick-thin Raja won last year.
Chad Michaels has done the most outfits I've found jaw-dropping (the gold/hologram dress, the Florence Welch dress, and most recently an AMAZING green 50s politician's-wife number (full view, close-up).
I don't ordinarily give a damn about fashion, but it seems like there's always one runway outfit every week that I find fascinating, and I've become mildly obsessed with the show this year, which is new. The point being that I have no idea who is my favorite for Season 4. I'd be happy with Chad, Sharon, or Latrice as winner, though I think if I were forced to choose one, I'd pick Chad.
Which would make a terrible pet name.
² Our next dog will of course be named "Rural Juror."

New plant: Ficus benjamina

I know what you're thinking. You're writing a post to tell us you got a Ficus benjamina? Who, exactly, did you think would care?

And okay. I'll grant that this is not a particularly exciting plant to be talking about. But it's not so much about what I got as how I got it.

Also you don't have to be so mean.

It was basically a case of somebody coming up to the house, knocking on the door, and asking if we wanted a Ficus -- one of our neighbors had one which had outgrown its spot in their house, and they were looking for someone to take it, being the gist.¹ When I actually walked to their house (about a block away), to see the plant, it didn't look that bad. I mean, it was a house I'd never been in before, so I didn't have much sense of what was "normal" for the space, but I'd originally pictured some 8-foot tall, five-foot wide monster in a 100-pound ceramic pot, with branches growing horizontally along the ceiling, and it was nothing like that. The (clay) pot was maybe eleven inches (28 cm) in diameter, which is big, but, you know, I've probably got twenty plants that are in pots bigger than eleven inches. So no big deal.

So I agreed to take it home, and the pot got broken along the way, for reasons which aren't really very interesting and would take a lot of time to explain properly. So I had to find a new pot to move it into, and it turned out that the only one I had that was big enough was 16 inches (41 cm) in diameter.

As it was sort of an emergency and I didn't have any other options, I went ahead and used the 16-inch pot,² and . . . that thing happened. You know that thing? The thing where when you have a small plant in a small pot, and then you move it into a big pot, it suddenly looks like the plant got bigger too, even though you know that only the pot changed size? That happened.

Oh, shit.
So now I have a new plant that's about 4 feet tall and 3.5 feet wide, all of a sudden, in a house that was already kind of full to overflowing with plants, and no place to put it. I mean, we'll figure something out -- I could never turn away a Ficus in need -- but this isn't quite what I thought I was getting into when I said yes. When PATSP gets made into a sitcom, this will have to be one of the episodes.

P.S. For the record, I gave her a plant back, to fill the new empty spot in her house. (She picked one of the variegated Yuccas.)
P.P.S. She also said I could go over and dig up some of her Sempervivums and Mertensias sometime if I wanted to plant some here. Not sure about the Mertensia -- there's not really a good spot for one right now, though I do want one eventually -- but I'll definitely take her up on the Sempervivums.

-

¹ You might think that our plant-crammed windows had something to do with this, but no. We weren't even the first or second household they asked. (Maybe we looked like we had enough plants already?)
² I would ordinarily never do this, or advise anybody to do this. The general rule of thumb is to go up two inches (5 cm) at a time, so I should have moved it to a 13-inch clay pot, ideally. I went ahead and jumped it five inches in one go because: it sort of needed to be repotted anyway (it wasn't bad, but close enough), the two-inch rule matters less once you get into the really big pots, and Ficus roots are so aggressive and robust anyway that the plant will likely fill the pot within a year regardless. I'm semi-inclined to keep it outside this summer, in which case having some extra soil there will help keep it moist when I forget to water it.

Pretty picture: Paphiopedilum Hsinying Makurow x Paph. Raisin Magic

And the 2012 orchid pictures begin. (Hooray?)


There will be a lot of Paphiopedilums this year; this isn't because I was obsessed with them or anything. (I like them, enough to attempt to grow one, but nothing beyond that.) They just seemed to have a lot more of them this year. As always, a lot of the plants were crammed so closely together that it was more or less impossible to get decent pictures of some of them (you'll notice a stray Phalaenopsis in the background on the left, and a ribbon -- I swear they gave every plant that showed up a ribbon, and then the ribbons were all angling themselves to get into my pictures), and the way some of the displays were set up, a lot of nice plants went unphotographed because I couldn't get close enough. Not that I didn't get plenty of photos anyway: my point is just that there was a higher percentage of paphs than in previous years, and the paphs were also in more accessible displays, for the most part. Hence lots of paph pictures.

As usual, it was impossible to distinguish smells, there being too many scented plants (and not a few fragrant people) around and lots of air currents, so that piece of information will be lacking, again, for this year's pictures. Which is sad. Even if I could distinguish individual smells, though, it's not like I have an easy way to record them for later discussion, so maybe it's better this way.