Specialists and Generalists

Two things have happened lately that have gotten me thinking about the plant collection and which plants are and are not valuable to me. One, I've been doing a lot of complaining about how much time it takes to water everything, so someone finally did the obvious thing and asked me, straight-up, whether all the plants were in fact necessary, whether I even enjoyed having them around. Two, I'm preparing to propagate some stuff for selling/trading season,¹ and since in the past, I've rarely sold out of any plants I offered (last year, I think the only one I sold out of was Ledebouria socialis), I'm doing the propagation this year with an eye towards which plants I have that I might actually want to have extras of at the end of the summer. No point in having thirty pots of a plant I don't even like sitting around when October arrives, after all.

What this has done for me, then, is it's made me focus pretty hard on which plants I like and don't like, which plants are and aren't working for me. Hence Monday's anti-orchid outburst, and my new realization that I never want to own another African violet, which I hadn't told you about until now.²

I've always been fairly indiscriminate in my plant purchases: there are a few plants that have just never appealed to me,³ but of the 128 options in the Rumble Among the Jungle list, I've attempted all but 19 at one time or another, and I've never felt like specializing in any particular family, genus, or species. But I'm starting to see how that could happen. Orchids and African violets are off the table today. Maybe I decide I've had enough of ferns (which have also been having a rough year here) next week. In a couple months, I finally accept that I don't have adequate light for desert cacti. In the fall, I decide no more Hoyas because of their tendency to suddenly disintegrate for no obvious reason.⁴ And so on.

The question is: is this process of gradually shrinking the field of possibilities how specialists come to specialize, or do most plant specialists only ever care about one thing to begin with? And how often does it go the other direction, where a narrowly-focused African violet person dabbles in a few Episcias and Streptocarpuses, then a Pilea or two, and eventually becomes a generalist? I'm guessing generalist --> specialist is more common than specialist --> generalist, but I don't actually know.

So I submit the question to the group for anecdata. Are you a specialist or a generalist? (If a specialist: what family / genus / species?) Which direction have you been moving, over time? Could you see yourself moving from specialist to generalist, or vice-versa?⁵ Is specialization more common among outdoor gardeners? Etc.

-

¹ (Look for an announcement around mid-April.)
² Because I know there are fans of orchids and African violets reading: it's not the plants themselves, not exactly. Obviously I've found them interesting enough to buy them over and over in the past. But I cannot keep them alive here, in my current situation, and after a certain point, buying more and more of a plant you can't grow stops being admirable perseverance and becomes stubborn refusal to acknowledge reality. Also, it's tough to like a plant when all you get to do is watch one specimen after the next slowly run downhill and die, so even if my situation changed, I wouldn't try growing them again. I'm over them. (Orchids are so 2008.)
Should maybe also note that I still have three orchids and two African violets, and I don't intend to get rid of any of them unless / until it becomes obvious that they're not going to work for me either. I have a very, very difficult time discarding healthy plants, even when I don't like them. They don't even have to be that healthy.
³ Examples: Kalanchoe blossfeldiana, Opuntia spp., Lithops spp./cvv., Nephrolepis exaltata, Rhododendron cvv.
⁴ Which has happened again in the last couple months, this time with H. polyneura.
⁵I'm not likely to get a very narrow focus on any particular group of plants anytime soon; there are too many plants already here that I like and that do well for me, but if I were going to specialize, I suspect I'd focus on the genus Anthurium. For the past nine months or so, I've been crossing plants and starting seeds every time I get an opportunity to do so, to the point where the basement now holds six plastic containers of seedlings. I don't have a particularly good sense of how many individuals are actually down there right now, but I'd ballpark it at around 150.

One of the containers. This particular batch was started in November 2011, and have 'Gemini' (medium-sized red-pink spathe with yellow spadix) as the female parent. Don't know for sure who the father was, but 'Pandola' (large medium-pink spathe with medium-pink spadix) is the one I'd guess.
Odds are that all of these Anthurium mongrels are commercially worthless, but I won't know until they get old enough to bloom, around 2016. I'm going to continue to cross them and start seeds anyway, because doing so amuses me, so the possibility is there that randomly-crossed Anthuriums will make up a larger and larger proportion of my plant collection as time goes by. At the same time, I can't imagine being without Aglaonema, Dracaena, Synadenium, Schlumbergera, and half a dozen other things. (In fact, I'd probably lean more toward Aglaonema instead of Anthurium, if only they were easier to flower, cross, and germinate indoors.)

Another shot of the same container of seedlings.

Pretty picture: Psychopsis Mendenhall alba 'Yellow Butterfly'

Since I last complained about my orchids, I've lost two more (both Potinaras). For those keeping score, that means I've attempted eleven orchids and lost six, with two more deaths likely by May:

Ludisia discolor. (Jun 2007 - Nov 2009; overpotted. There might also have been some problems with the mix I repotted it into.)

Dendrobium 'Karen.' (Oct 2008 - Dec 2011; potting medium likely too water-retentive)

Brassolaeliocattleya Helen Brown. (Oct 2008 - STILL ALIVE!)

Dendrobium "Humphrey Bogart"¹ (Oct 2008 - STILL ALIVE!)

Paphiopedilum Supersuk 'Eureka' x Paph. Raisin Pie 'Hsinying' x Sib (Nov 2008 - April or May 2012²)

Phalaenopsis NOID (Mar 2009 - STILL ALIVE!)

Oncidium NOID. (May 2009 - Aug 2009; attempted salvage of rootless plant from work that unsurprisingly didn't take)

Sophrolaeliocattleya Hazel Boyd 'Debbie.' (Dec 2010 - May 2011; thrown out due to scale)

Potinara Eye Candy 'Mellow Yellow.' (Dec 2010 - Feb 2012; slow death over a long period for no obvious reason)

Potinara Eye Candy 'Sweet Sensation.' (Dec 2010 - Feb 2012; also a slow death over a long period for no obvious reason)

Oncidium Tsiku Marguerite NN #1 (Dec 2010 - any day now; another long slow decline, and the plant is down to about 1/6 of its original size and number of pseudobulbs)

And the few plants that have survived aren't interesting to look at; the only orchid to ever rebloom for me is dead. So I am getting pretty disgusted with the Orchidaceae, to the point where I was seriously considering skipping the Illowa orchid show this year. It's just going to be all the same plants as last year, I can't afford to buy any of them, if I could buy plants they'd just die on me anyway, the pictures often don't turn out that well and need a lot of after-the-fact manipulation, and maybe I just don't want to look at fucking orchid flowers this year.

But. We're going to go anyway, assuming cooperation from the weather, vehicle, and venue, because:

1) I'll probably be less mad by then. (It's scheduled for March 10, at Wallace's Garden Center in Bettendorf, IA; see their website for directions.)
2) There will be other plants there too -- probably not very many, but enough. (Last year I saw my first Pinguicula!)
3) I haven't been to Wallace's in forever, and feel bad about it.³
4) I can't really pass up an opportunity to take 30-40 posts' worth of blog photos in a single day, however I may feel about the subjects.

So if you're there and you see a guy taking close-up pictures of the flowers with kind of a sour, contemptuous expression on his face, say hi! Just don't start talking about how wonderful and easy orchids are to cultivate, or I will have to kick you in the shins.

Unsolicited orchid-troubleshooting advice will also result in shin-kicking.

And I will probably be wearing boots.

In fact, you're probably best not to mention the orchids at all. I realize this will be difficult under the circumstances, but do say hi anyway.

-

¹ My name for it; it was a NOID.
² I know the approximate date because if it survives to April or May, I'm sending it to someone else. Details to be announced.
³ I like them; we just don't have compelling reasons to go to the Quad Cities very often.

Saturday morning Sheba and/or Nina picture

So I'm sure you're all dying to know how Sheba's been, since her injury of unknown origin from last week.

Well. The injury happened on or around Wednesday the 15th, she saw the vet on Thursday the 16th, and she seemed to be hyper enough while "resting" with the pain meds that we tried not giving them to her on Sunday the 19th. Which made her grumpy, so we resumed them, and then tried going without a couple days later, on the afternoon of the 21st. We couldn't tell any difference in her behavior, so she's been without the painkillers since Tuesday morning, and whatever it was appears to have resolved itself. She's not going to be chasing tennis balls for a few more days, just to be sure, but I think the problem is basically over. It's a little frustrating not to know what it actually was, but if it's over, I will take that and be quite happy with it, thank you very much.

The photos are from Wednesday, when Sheba accompanied the husband and me into Iowa City and we stopped at what Google Maps calls "Sand Lake Park." It's just a man-made lake or pond, a little over 1000 feet (305 m) long and about half as wide. Nothing terribly special, but I can recognize a photo opportunity when one smacks me in the face like this.

Random plant event: Aloe x humilis

These pictures are from the ex-job, in early January. They've never exactly had an ID for the plants, but they were sold as "hedgehog" Aloes, and there's a plant I've seen elsewhere, sold as A. x humilis 'Hedgehog,' which I'm guessing is the same plant even though that specimen was larger. So that's what I'm calling them for purposes of the post, though the name 'Blue Elf' has also been proposed as an ID. In any case, I bought one of them from the ex-job a couple years ago, and it's been a good houseplant. No pests, propagated a few times, no abrupt declines -- if it can make it through another eleven months without any major problems, it'll qualify for All-Star status.

Aloe x humilis 'Hedgehog,' according to the tag.
I, of course, have never gotten flowers on my plants indoors. Which is a shame -- even a bit after their prime, as in these pictures, the flowers are still pretty. But then, most of my Aloes don't bloom; the only one that ever did so with any consistency was A. 'Doran Black,' and the parent plant of that one disintegrated on me about a month or two ago. I've restarted what few offsets I could salvage, but it'll be a long time before it's back to blooming size.


I've gotten flowers on A. 'Grassy Lassie' once indoors, too, though they didn't photograph well and were gone by the time I figured out that they hadn't photographed well. Not that the flowers are really the point, for any of my Aloes and Aloe hybrids. They're just nice.

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

Catch-up week continues. This particular batch has an unfortunate tendency toward greenish-yellow, which I fear will clash with the background, but this is the set that was queued up and ready to post, so this is the set you get. Wear eye shielding if you feel it's appropriate to do so.¹

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

Commelina communis. Is it weird if I admit that I'm looking forward to seeing the first C. communis sprouts coming up outside this spring? I mean, I know it's a weed and all, but I really enjoy the flowers.

Aglaonema 'Silver Queen.' I recently cut my 'Silver Queen' back, and am trying to root the tops in soil. This had to happen -- the plant was too tall and gangly -- but the stumps haven't resprouted yet, and I can't tell whether the tops are rooting, so I'm a little anxious about the whole thing. It's a variety that used to be all over the place but doesn't seem to be anymore, so if it doesn't survive the beheading, I may have trouble finding a replacement.

Cordyline glauca, dying leaf. My goodness, some of these photos are ancient: I only realized it because I haven't had a Cordyline glauca for nearly a year now.

I like this picture. It has something to do with the colors, but I'm not sure how to explain.

Arctium sp.

Philodendron 'Congo Green.' The line across the top of the photo isn't a shadow; it's actually part of the leaf coloration. Because Philodendron leaves start out curled up (or at least those of 'Congo Green' and a lot of other Philodendrons do), a freshly unfurled leaf will sometimes be darker on the portion of leaf that was exposed to light during development, and lighter on the part from the interior of the spiral, which is what's happened here.

Mahonia aquifolium.

Alpinia zerumbet variegata. Alas, this is not turning out to be as easy to care for indoors as I'd thought it would be. I still have one, and if it continues to live, I'll continue to keep it, but if it dies on me, I don't think I'm going to try the plant again.

Aeschynanthus longicaulis. On the other hand, A. longicaulis is remarkably easy and vigorous, at least for me. Tons of flowers this winter, too, which would be easier to get excited about if the flowers were more colorful. But still. Hard to dislike a plant that's so easygoing.

Quercus sp., autumn. Either this one or the next one is my favorite from this batch. I like both the geometry and the colors on this picture; I want to say it reminds me of an afghan my grandmother crocheted.

Caladium 'Fire Chief.' This is a little more BANG! POW! In your face! than the other, but Caladium pictures tend to be that way.

-

¹ It may surprise the reader to know that the Preview function in Blogger does not render the post as it will appear on the blog: the words and pictures are all present, and in the right sizes and positions relative to one another, but the background is plain white, and there's no sidebar. This isn't a huge deal, but sometimes not being able to view an actual preview means that I post pictures that clash uncomfortably with the background, or a video gets posted that overlaps part of the sidebar, or things of that nature.

Other: "Botanica"

I'm not sure what to do with this exactly, but I got an e-mail from a reader about it, and it does appear to be the sort of thing I should report to the rest of y'all, so here we go.

WHAT: a (live!) drama called "Botanica," written by Jim Findlay. I found it pretty hard to get a handle on, because the reviews and promotional materials seem to be trying very hard not to say much about it, but the short synopsis from the "Botanica" website reads:

The narrative of BOTANICA tracks the scientific experiments and the developing relationship between two botanists who are sealed in a research facility — a human terrarium. They share their habitat with the janitor/plant caretaker, who seems unremarkable except for his curious habit of reading aloud to the plants late at night the most salacious sections of books by Bataille and Aragon, along with his own self-penned blue poetry. Initially the experiments seem to demonstrate an astonishing scope of plant consciousness, but eventually the botanists hit a dead end. They decide to bring the janitor into their research. The introduction of this human subject reinvigorates their investigation but leads to unforeseen consequences and unleashes a flood of unusual findings that end in chaos as the constraints of science and social norms are overturned.

Or you can read the New York Times review.

WHAT?: I don't know. Apparently it's experimental, and artistic or something. Also there's some plant-fucking involved, though you should have assumed that when I said "artistic."

UM, OKAY. WHERE?: 3LD Art & Technology Center (80 Greenwich St., New York City)

WHEN?: February 22-25, 8 PM.

TICKETS: Can be purchased here, and are $10-30.

SERIOUSLY?: I realize most of my readership isn't going to be able to see this, and only some of those who are able are going to want to, but it seemed like the sort of thing I should say something about, because obviously one is curious. I mean -- plant-fucking? How does that even work? In any case, if any reader happens to be in New York later this week and decides to attend, I insist that you report back and explain to me what it is that you saw and whether it was any good.

Random plant event: Billbergia 'Foster's Striate'

Gentle readers,

This would be a good week for you not to expect too much from me, blogularly speaking. Everything's fine, but the combination of Sheba's mysterious pain last Wednesday and my own all-day headache on Sunday has thrown off my delicately-balanced blogging and watering routine, so I just don't have the usual amount of time to spend blogging.

That said, here's a thing that's happened here lately:


The plant is Billbergia 'Foster's Striate,' which I've had since a reader trade last May. It's been well-behaved: no pests, no excessive leaf drop, no burnt tips or margins, no loss of variegation. This isn't the first new offset since it got here, but it's the first one I've noticed so early in development. Mine hasn't bloomed yet, but it's my understanding that the flowers are similar to those of B. nutans.

If you're interested in having one of your own, to love / pet / squeeze / call George, check with Grower Jim at Garden Adventures; he is selling some, or at least was at one time. (1 for $4, 2 for $5, plus shipping. PayPal. U.S. only. No shipping to HI, AZ, CA, TX, LA, MS, NC. Other restrictions may apply; see link for details.)

Pretty picture: Masdevallia Caraway Moon

I don't really see what's caraway-like (or moon-like, for that matter) about this flower, but that probably just shows I'm a dull, uncreative person.


Google has no records of an orchid by the name of Masdevallia Caraway Moon. (Image searches for "Caraway Moon" bring up lots of images of shoes; I declined to investigate the reason, but I suppose someone might have named an orchid for a shoe? Or vice-versa?)