Pretty picture: Paphiopedilum Pinocchio

Paphiopedilum Pinocchio is a primary hybrid (hybrid between two species, as opposed to a hybrid of a hybrid) between Paphiopedilum glaucophyllum × Paphiopedilum primulinum. I can't say I see anything particularly Pinocchioish about the flower here, but I gave up a long time ago on expecting orchid names to make sense.

The flower looks more or less exactly like most of the primulinum pictures on Google; I can't tell from looking at it what this hybrid is getting from the P. glaucophyllum side.

One last reminder: today is your last chance to enter the drawing for the book giveaway.

Random plant event: Canna NOID

Last year, I saved as many seeds from the Cannas as I could collect, with the intention of starting all of them as new plants. Because everybody -- I in particular -- always needs more Cannas. It wound up being about 150 seeds, which I sanded down and soaked in water for a couple days, as you do, and then I made a bunch of little holes in a bed in the yard and dropped a seed in each hole. Flooded the bed with water a few times, and then . . . nothing happened. There was a long enough delay that I concluded that the seeds had died, and I was really disappointed about that (not to mention all the time I thought I'd wasted on seed collection and sanding and so forth).

But after I'd given up, the seeds began to sprout. I don't have anywhere near the 150 I tried to start, but I counted 22 up five days ago, and 37 yesterday, so we may be getting there.

I can't remember where I saw it, but at some point I was doing research about whether or not Cannas can bloom in their first year from seed, and if I'm remembering correctly, it's possible but not certain. I don't really have any strong feelings either way: I'll have flowers from the parent plants whether the babies flower or not. At this point, all I really care about is that 1) it turns out to be possible to start Cannas from seed, like everybody says, and 2) whether they're going to grow fast enough to shade out all the weeds. (I'm already pretty tired of pulling weeds, and it hasn't even gotten hot yet.)

I should also remind readers that the book giveaway remains open until Friday, so if you missed that post, check it out and leave a comment.

Book Giveaway: America's Romance With the English Garden (Thomas J. Mickey)

Book Give-away Rules: To be eligible to participate in this Book Give-away for a copy of Thomas Mickey’s book America’s Romance With the English Garden, you must comment on this guest blog entry between 8:00 a.m. (EDT) Monday, June 3, and 5:00 p.m. (EDT) Friday, June 7. LIMIT one entry per person. The name of the winner will be drawn from the list of those who comment. The winner will be contacted on Monday, June 10 to obtain a shipping address, and will receive a free, signed copy of the book. Open to US residents only.

The following post is an excerpt from the book America’s Romance with the English Garden:

How the Lawn Became Essential in the Landscape

Ohio artist and landscaper Frank Scott dedicated his book The Art of Beautying Suburban Home Grounds (1870) to his friend and mentor, America's premier landscape designer Andrew Jackson Downing. Scott saw his task as teaching Americans the principles of English landscape design. He wrote, "The half-acre of a suburban cottage may be as perfect a work of art, and as well worth transferring to canvas as any part of the great Chatsworth of the Duke of Devonshire."

A front lawn scene from Vick's Illustrated Monthly in 1879.
Although Scott recognized that compared to the English "we are yet novices in the fine arts of gardening," along with the English he considered the well-kept lawn as the essential element in the landscape. The lawn, Scott suggested, should be open, so that neighbors and passers-by could see and enjoy it. His book presented plans and also a listing of trees, shrubs, and vines suitable for the suburban home landscape. In his book Scott quoted New York seedsman Peter Henderson for the amount of seed needed for a lawn.

The lawn, as Scott discussed it, connected one house to the next by its placement at the front of the property, along the street. One property seemed to flow right into the next, forming a sense of neighborhood.

Discussion of the English lawn as the basis of the home landscape was quite common in the seed and nursery catalogs. Here is what the seedsman C.A. Reeser wrote in his 1886 catalog: "A beautiful lawn. It is hardly necessary to say, is one of the most satisfactory and pleasing outside adornments that can be procured, and is rightly deemed a most essential adjunct to rural and suburban homes." The home landscape, according to the nineteenth-century garden catalogs, needed the verdant sweep of a lawn. Front lawns first began as a luxury of the wealthy but later in the century they became a symbol of the middle class. The lots in suburban Takoma Park, Maryland, for example, included a large setback from the street to provide front space for a lawn.

The seed companies generally sold lawn seed. They were happy to recommend the amount of seed needed for the size of a particular property. Downing wrote: "We advise him who desires to have speedily a handsome turf, to follow the English practice, and sow three to four bushels of seeds to the acre."

Rochester, NY seedsman James Vick, in his 1873 catalog, echoed the words of Scott: "No arrangement of beds, or borders of box, or anything else, will look so neat and tasteful as a well kept piece of grass."

-This is an excerpt from the new book America’s Romance with the English Garden (Ohio University Press).

UPDATE: The randomly-chosen comment was #8, which was Dave. Dave, please contact me by e-mail (address in the sidebar; please note the instructions) to let me know where to have it sent, as your links do not include an e-mail address.

SECOND UPDATE: Dave didn't respond, so I re-drew. The winner is now comment #2, Paul. Please e-mail me with your address and I'll have your copy sent.

Question for the Hive Mind: Iris cvv.

Three or four weeks ago, I was talking to my Dad on the phone, and he mentioned that the Irises where he and Mom live (fairly close, south of us) had buds on them already, and that they were sufficiently developed that you could tell what color the flowers were going to be.

We didn't have any Iris buds at that point, but about a week after that conversation, I saw a couple stalks were forming.

Whew. What a relief. They're going to bloom after all.

And they did:

Iris NOID blue-violet, 2013.
And then it was over. Two flower stalks, with three or four flowers apiece, both from the NOID blue variety. Nothing from 'Shelly Elizabeth.' The end.

I had been anticipating, you know, more, so I looked for information on-line about non-blooming Irises, and came up with this page at Garden Web, which lists several thousand possible reasons why Iris might decline to bloom, few of which seem to apply in my particular case:

Not adequately established -- well, they were established enough to bloom last year.

Iris 'Shelly Elizabeth,' 2012.
Inadequate sun -- again, it was enough last year, so it couldn't be that they're planted in a part of the yard that doesn't get enough sun. However, it's plausible that the town in general didn't get enough sun this year; the state of Iowa has had its wettest spring in 141 years of recorded history this spring. We even have mushrooms growing all over the yard:

A representative sample of the back yard. Seriously, it's all like this.
So it's probably been unusually cloudy, too. Neither the husband nor I recall seeing a normal number of Irises around town, but it's not really something we have a great sense of in the first place, and we didn't know it was going to be important to keep track, so that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

Nutrient deficiencies -- doubtful; this is only the second year they've been growing in this spot, and the soil contains a lot of compost.

Inappropriate watering -- see above re: wettest spring in 141 years. Though last summer was a significant drought, too, with the lawn cracking and stuff, so if blooms are strongly related to watering from the previous summer and fall, maybe.

Planted too deeply -- don't think the planting depth has changed since last year; we certainly haven't added any soil. They did have some oak and maple leaves on them during the winter, because leaves just accumulate there. I don't recall making a point of removing them (though the husband might have), so this is sort of plausible, depending on how much mulch counts as deep planting.

Overcrowding -- I have no reference points for how close Iris rhizomes should be, so you tell me:

It should probably be noted that the more isolated rhizomes aren't blooming either (though they could still be a little crowded, just not so much by one another):

Weeds -- not among the Irises; there's no room. Everywhere else, sure.

Ill health -- doubtful. If anything, it seems like there are more and bigger leaves this year than previously. True, lots of them are also weirdly sickle-shaped, but they don't seem ill.

Late freezes -- I couldn't tell you for sure. We did have some temperatures near-freezing in early May, but I don't think we were forecast to have an actual freeze. And I'm not sure about earlier than that. Could this cause the sickle-shaped leaves?

Immature rhizome -- nope. Lots of blooms last year.

Irregular bloomer -- I wouldn't necessarily know, I suppose. They bloomed last year. Didn't in 2011 (though they sort of tried). Freshly-divided and immature in 2010.

So . . . is anything jumping out at anybody as being the obvious problem? (Ideally something that's easily fixed?)

Pretty picture: Phalaenopsis OX Little Moon

This was tagged as a Doritaenopsis, but science appears to have more or less settled the question of whether Phalaenopsis and Doritis are the same thing with an exuberant "YES!," so I've changed the name. (The hobby and retail communities' collective response appears to be more along the lines of "We would prefer to continue making the distinction!")

Not the world's best phal or anything, but I suppose this is nice. It at least appears to be well-grown.

(Phalaenopsis OX Little Moon = Phalaenopsis OX Little King x Phalaenopsis OX Firebird.)

Random plant event: Hoya bella

Well, Ivynettle kind of beat me to this post, by posting a larger, better-looking Hoya bella with more flowers on it, but I don't have a lot else going on at the moment, so it's what I'm going to post. I don't think these pictures require a lot by way of context, but I'll note that:

• Hoya bella flowers have been the subject of PATSP posts before (last year; three years ago),

• this is the most flowers my plant has ever had on it at once (in the neighborhood of 15-20 simultaneous umbels, though not all are fully developed),

• and I've managed to detect a somewhat stronger fragrance from the flowers this time around, which still strikes me as being sort of generically floral and not anything to get terribly excited about. Though it's still nice.

Maybe not entirely missing from retail. . . .

I've been on the lookout this spring for the plants from last fall/winter's Missing From retail series, just to see how absent they really are. For the most part, the plants I said were missing around here still are, but there have been a few sightings.

I guess Cyperus spp. have been around every year and I just wasn't paying attention until this one, because I've seen them in two stores so far, one of which was the ex-job. If they've got them this year, they must have had them in previous years.

Cyperus involucratus 'Baby Tut.'
I've considered buying a Cyperus, though so far I've managed to talk myself out of it, on the grounds that they'll die the first time they dry out. But there's a great "person" possibility for profile-writing, so I might do it anyway, just so I can say I have some actual experience with the plant and write the profile.

I've also seen some Eucomis bulbs, though at Costco, not any of the local garden centers. I'm not sure what that means. I've been very, very close to buying those, too, and the only thing that's stopped me has been that they were initially $12 for 9 plants, and I wasn't sure I wanted nine more of anything, particularly not nine more of a plant that I wasn't sure would be able to grow in the first place.

Costco also had Crinums, I think. Not at all interested in those.

The ex-job has Cobaea scandens seeds.

I don't think I'm particularly interested in Cobaea -- everybody made it sound like more trouble than it's worth, and please note the small print on the package ("10' - 70' tall;" the metric equivalent is 3-21 m) -- but nevertheless, they exist, relatively close by.

There have been plenty of Bougainvilleas around town this year; either they've gotten more popular lately, or I hadn't been paying close enough attention before. I doubt many of the customers buying them are intending to grow them indoors, though. (Ditto for Catharanthus, Pittosporum, Fuchsia, Euonymous, Limonium, Acorus, Acalypha, Pentas, Nicotiana, and Liriope, all of which I've seen at least once this year.)

Shrimp plants (Justicia spp. and a few other genera) are showing up all over the place. They've never been completely absent, but I'm seeing new species and new forms this year. (For example: I saw a topiary standard shrimp plant this year.) Manettia luteo-rubra is showing up a lot more too, for some reason.

I've seen quite a few Dyckias in Iowa this year, mostly D. 'Raspberry Ice,' which I think genuinely is a new thing. I'm pretty sure I would already have fifty of them, if they'd been available in Iowa before this. I haven't bought any, because I'm not entirely sure I can grow them still. The first one I had died more or less immediately, and the second one has both survived for a full year and grown substantially larger, but I still don't feel like we've really reached an understanding.

Dyckia no-name F2 hybrid of 'Burgundy Ice,' as of last September. It's substantially larger than this now.
Faucaria spp. are here and there, though I have zero interest in them. (Too closely related to stuff like Lithops and Fenestraria.) Most of the ones I've seen this year have been at Reha's, in Wellman, IA. Ditto for Gibasis geniculata: they're around, mostly at Reha's, and I have no interest.


Faucaria sp. (pic is from a previous year, though)
And then finally, the ex-job had a couple pots of Russelia equisetiformis the last time I was there. They were much too large to pose a serious temptation, never mind the question of whether Russelia could be successfully overwintered indoors in Iowa, but they're neat-looking plants, even when not in bloom.

Russelia equisetiformis.

Pretty (?) pictures: Aerangis citrata

At the moment, I'm going through another spell of being unenthused with plants, mostly because it's been cool again here and I've spent a bunch of time and energy putting them out in the morning, watering like mad so I can be finished before it's too cold to have them outside, and then dragging them all back in again. And even then, I've still damaged a couple. (Whatever the books and websites say about the cold tolerance of Aloes, don't believe it.)

So posting might be kind of light for a while, at least until it warms up a little. Not that I'm complaining about having cooler temperatures, goodness knows.

As for today's orchid, these are pretty lousy pictures, but my camera finds black/white contrasts challenging sometimes. I found some much better photos on another blog, which the reader may find of interest.