Saturday morning Sheba and/or Nina picture

Yes, Nina is still around. I don't post about her a lot, both due to embarrassment over how water-spotted and overgrown her terrarium has gotten and because she just doesn't really do that much that needs documenting -- I mean, if you've seen one Nina photo then you've pretty much seen all of them. But yes, she's still here. I also still need to replant the terrarium (possibly without the Pellionia pulchra -- I'm happy that it's done so well in there, but it might be nice to have more than one species represented, too¹). Replanting is one of those things I think about every few months but never actually attempt, partly because I dread trying to catch Nina, partly because I can't decide what I want to plant in there instead.²

But in any event, Nina herself is doing fine. I think so, anyway. Not really sure what a lizard "acting out" would look like.

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¹ There was a Fittonia in there at one time as well, but no longer: between being eaten by crickets, rebounding poorly from the inevitable droughts, and being outcompeted by the Pellionia, it faded away to nothing some time ago.
² I've spent a lot of time thinking about this, but never manage to come up with a plan. Most of the options are also problematic because they have the same advantages and drawbacks as Pellionia -- I have lots of material from which to start new plants, and I'm confident that they'd root, but they'd also quickly take over the terrarium, and then I'd be back in this position again.

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

This isn't maybe the prettiest set of transmitted light photos I've got, but what they lack in beauty, they make up for in having unusually diverse textures. Or at least that was the feature that jumped out at me when I first looked at them as a group.

Ordinarily when I post a set of transmitted light photos, I'm doing so because I can't come up with anything else to post. Not the case this time, though: this time, I'm doing it because I had the realization that if I don't start posting them once in a while, I'm never going to end up publishing them all.

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

Ficus microcarpa.

Alcea sp. Obviously a leaf from late in the season: a spring leaf wouldn't be as scarred and torn.

Acer sp., autumn.

Pulmonaria 'Raspberry Splash.' One of the two Pulmonarias I planted when we first moved in died this spring; the other had to be relocated and, I fear, may not come back. It needed to be divided, I think, but the husband was the one who moved it, and I hadn't told him it needed to be divided, so . . . we'll see what happens, I suppose. I think I like Pulmonaria well enough to buy replacements if the survivor doesn't come back, but maybe I won't need to. We'll see.

Polyscias scutellaria. The photograph is, I think, a technical failure but an artistic success: the shadows are maybe excessive, but they also make me think of bubble wrap, which I like. (Who doesn't like thinking about bubble wrap, after all?) This is actually, I think, my favorite photo from this set, despite being plainer than most of the images that follow.

Strobilanthes dyerianus.

Epipremnum aureum. It's strangely impossible to come up with a decent transmitted light photo of E. aureum, and I have no idea why. It's like Dracaena deremensis varieties and Tradescantia pallida -- however many different ways I try of doing it, I still always get crappy photos. But what do the three of them have in common that Philodendron hederaceum, Dracaena fragrans, and Tradescantia zebrina don't? It's a mystery.

Glycine max, dead leaf. This improves a bit when full-size. It's also one of the more map-like leaves in this set.

Begonia 'Soli-Mutata.' The texture is pretty striking by reflected light, too, though the colors aren't going to make anybody's list of most colorful Begonias.

Calathea makoyana.

To the Person(s) From Cedar Rapids Who Keep(s) Checking PATSP for Updates:

[Please ignore if you are not in Cedar Rapids, IA.]

If you are who I think you are:

1) You really should have sent me an e-mail a loooong time ago;
2) You will probably be interested in the addition at the top of this post;
3) The post you are so eager to read won't go up until Friday, at the very earliest, and there's a good chance I won't get it together until Monday.

If you aren't who I think you are:

1) The above probably made no sense to you at all;
2) You're now confused,
3) And I'm sorry. Please disregard.

Random plant event: Hatiora (?) NOID

This is a good news / bad news random plant event. The good news is that there was a bloom --


-- and the bad news is that I think it's probably the only one I'll ever see.

And it's already finished.

I got the plant in question from a reader last May. It was very large and full then, and got larger and fuller for several months, which was great. And then in early October, it began to shatter, dropping a few segments here and there. Which was disturbing. Then it did it again in mid-October. Finally, at some point in early November, it blew itself completely the fuck up. (I think the largest remaining piece had about six segments to it. Just, segments everywhere. Oh the humanity.) Also, it got a sort of dusty look to it, like maybe there were spider mites, though I didn't see spider mites on any of the plants that were nearby. And we have a lot of dust here, so it's sometimes hard to be sure.

So I sprayed with neem oil and dishwashing liquid. And was rewarded with another shattering. I pulled all the pieces out, cleaned off any rotten bits, and replanted all of them into new pots and new soil, carefully balancing them against one another so they would stay more or less upright. Then a couple weeks later the husband decided to wipe off the table they were sitting on, and moved the pots of rooting segments, which then all fell out and had to be replanted again, with the careful balancing and etc. But did I say anything mean to him about this? I did not. Because I am a saint.

In the midst of all this chaos, though, a flower bud formed on one of the segments, and against all odds, it developed fully, was open for about 3-4 days, and then dropped off. And then it was over.


The segments have now been sitting for maybe three weeks, undisturbed, and I don't think they're rooting terribly well. Even if they are rooting, they probably aren't going to root upright, like the plant was when it arrived, and I'm not optimistic about the long-term prospects of the plant, but both hope and the plants are still alive.

From the Schlumbergera profile, I see I wrote

Easter cacti aren't particularly popular because they're harder to grow: if they're in a draft, too wet, or too dry, they shatter, dropping all the stem segments, which is obviously kind of a jerky, passive-aggressive thing to do. Also they're less consistent bloomers. Which is also passive-aggressive. Basically Easter cacti are pricks, is what I'm saying. Care is basically the same as Schlumbergera, but the margin for error is much narrower.

The most likely cause, according to that, would be draft, followed by too wet: they're in the plant room, and the door we use most to get in and out of the house is in there too.

There's a pretty good chance, based on the flower color and flower timing, that it wasn't an Easter cactus (Hatiora) after all, but was instead a true-Christmas Christmas cactus (one of the older Schlumbergera hybrids). I have no way to tell at the moment.¹

I don't have any immediate plans to write a plant profile on Easter cacti, but if I did, I'm thinking I'd have to choose Suicide Bomber, or possibly Patsy Cline,² as the "person."

Probably Patsy. Very few suicide bombers blow themselves up more than once. Though an argument could be made for suicide bombers being more passive-aggressive than Patsy Cline.

Hmm.

My other Hatiora NOID, which was sold to me as a wildly-overpriced Rhipsalidopsis, has orange flowers, has doubled or tripled in size since I got it (also last May), and has yet to shatter at all. They've been right next to one another, getting the same care, same temperature, same humidity, so the fragility is soil-related, cultivar-related, or both. For whatever that's worth.

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¹ Easter cacti were previously known as Rhipsalidopsis, and are often sold under that name, though at the moment our botano-taxonomic overlords are preferring Hatiora to Rhipsalidopsis. These Hatioras also strongly resemble Schlumbergeras, especially the older Christmas-blooming Schlumbergeras, so misidentification is common.
Hatioras are a lot more prone to shattering, as a rule, but both genera can shatter. (My Schlumbergera x buckleyi, also a reader trade, has done a tiny bit of this in early December.) I'm continuing to assume that the plant I'm talking about in this post is a Hatiora, because: that's how it's written down on the spreadsheets and elsewhere in the blog, that's what the original owner thought it was, it allegedly blooms in spring, and the shape and texture of the segments is subtly different from the plants I have that I'm pretty sure are Schlumbergera x buckleyi.
On the other hand, I have no way of ruling out that it's a Schlumbergera either, since both plants could produce actinomorphic magenta flowers in early December. Either time will tell, or the plant will die and make the question moot.
² "I Fall to Pieces" (YouTube)

Pretty picture: Paphiopedilum Lawless Zauberflöte

To answer the obvious question: Google Translate renders "Zauberflöte" as "The Magic Flute" in German.


I might have gone with something more like "Paphiopedilum Lawless Really Fucking Yellow," but that's me: no imagination.

Also I wouldn't necessarily be surprised if it were mislabeled, since 1) almost everything at the show was to some degree or another and 2) the coloration is similar but different on all the photos that Google Image Search comes up with. Specifically, the long, narrow petals (sepals? I forget which is which, on orchids.) to the left and right usually have some brown or pink streaks or spots in them.

Of course, those photos are posted by amateurs and/or eBay sellers, and can't necessarily be trusted either. So it may not be Paphiopedilum Lawless Zauberflöte, but there's a solid chance that it's at least a Paphiopedilum. And failing that, I'm like 95% certain it's an orchid.

Maybe only 90%.

Saturday morning Sheba and/or Nina picture

Apparently a more comfortable position than it looks, 'cause she's willing to sit like that for a good ten, fifteen minutes at a time, if we're moving at a more or less constant speed and not making too many turns.

One of the pluses of pet ownership that doesn't get mentioned enough is their capacity for acting goofy.

Music video: Isosine "Psychosocial Baby" (Justin Bieber / Ludacris / Slipknot mashup)

This was put on YouTube in March, but I'm only finding out about it now.

I don't know that I like it exactly.

Frankly, I'm not sure what the hell I think of it, but -- it's definitely the acme of whatever the fuck it is.

It's also a fairly good example, I'm pretty sure, of a mashup being significantly better than either of the component tracks (Slipknot: "Psychosocial;" Justin Bieber feat. Ludacris: "Baby"), though more research is needed before I can say for sure. And the research would likely destroy my brain, so we will probably never know.



In case you were wondering -- and why wouldn't you be wondering? -- Slipknot's lead vocalist and lyricist Corey Taylor has heard the mashup, and approves of it.



I couldn't find any evidence on YouTube that Justin Bieber knows about the mashup, but one supposes even if he did, he probably isn't free to comment. If he says he likes it, that's bad for his squeaky-clean non-threatening boy image, and if he says he hates it, he risks the wrath of a thousand rabid Slipknot fans.

Poor Justin Bieber.

Top 16 PATSP posts of 2011

2011 was a weird year for my relationship with the blog, which I've recently described -- ad nauseam -- so coming up with this list was a stranger experience than usual. I had a lot of good stuff at the beginning of the year, I think, and then basically nothing after July. But it was a very good year for photos, and if pressed, I imagine I can come up with nice things to say about some of the text too. So here are the highlights of 2011:

16. Music Video: "Russian Unicorn" (Bad Lip Reading / Michael Bublé) (29 Sep 2011)


Okay, so this is kind of a cheat, 'cause I didn't have anything to do with making it. But I'm still unbelievably fond of the song,¹ and wanted another chance to say so, because it's worth repeating. Also it's my list and you can't stop me.


15. Wednesday morning Marcia, Jan, and Cindy picture (25 May 2011)


Don't know what became of Marcia, Jan, and Cindy, of course: no way to tell them apart from any other robin,² and the odds are unfortunately high that they didn't all survive to the fall. (The deck is stacked against robins to a surprising degree.) But one hopes. Same for barn swallows Greg, Peter, and Bobby, though we didn't get as much time to get to know them.


14. Random plant event: Breynia disticha 'Roseo-Picta' blooming (8 Aug 2011)


I'm not sure why this one makes it into the top posts post. I think I'm maybe just pleased by how strange the flowers are, and how well the photos turned out. Breynia turns out to be just full of surprises (if you bother to feed it), as you'll see later this year if I ever get it together to sort some photos.


13. In Which I Lose All Respect for the Burgess Seed and Plant Co. of Bloomington, IL (3 Mar 2011)


Not that I had a lot of respect to begin with. Included in the list mostly because "This Ficus is my god now!" still makes me chuckle.


12. Fungus Gnats: Like Puppies That Try To Fly Up Your Nose (15 Mar 2011)


I feel a little bad about writing a post to help people get rid of their fungus gnat infestations, 'cause I actually find fungus gnats kind of adorable.


11. Random plant event: Kalanchoe tomentosa flower (14 Jun 2011)


Not a fan of the plant (more accurately: they're not fans of me), but I hadn't seen the flowers before, and the photos turned out nicer than I'd expected.


10. Storm Review: 2011 Blizzard (2 Feb 2011)


Winter 2011-12 has been a huge disappointment so far: we've only had one snowfall of any consequence, and that snow was only around for a day or two before it all melted. But we've had good snows in the past, and winter's only 1/3 over, so there's still hope, I guess.


9. Pretty picture: Convallaria majalis flowers (23 May 2011)


It's a little too easy to take a nice picture of Convallaria majalis, actually.


8. Phalaenopsitrocity (28 Mar 2011)


2011 will be remembered as the year in which plant retailers finally gave up and decided to sell artificial plants instead.³ I don't do New Year's resolutions, never have, but if I did, I'd resolve to find a way to kill the market for dye-injected plants in 2012. All ideas welcome.⁴


7. Mary Richards and the Incredible Plant Lady (18 Feb 2011)


In which Helen Hunt is dethroned as the patron actress (possibly "actress mascot" would be more accurate? Less oxymoronic, anyway.) of PATSP and replaced by Mary Tyler Moore (with an assist from Valerie Harper).


6. Pretty picture: Paphiopedilum St. Swithin (3 Jun 2011)


Best orchid ever, yeah?


5. Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Houseplant (11 Apr 2011)
I had trouble figuring out what I was trying to say with this one, or whether I was trying to say anything at all. I'm not sure I ever figured it out, actually, but my readership sure seemed to like the post anyway.


4. List: Plants Which Someone on the Internet has Said Bring Bad Luck (12 Oct 2011)


I'm not sure if the people who read this post will come away less superstitious or more superstitious. It probably depends on how superstitious they were when they started reading it: people who were already prone to see plants as lucky or unlucky now have longer lists, and people who aren't, don't. But I tried.


3. Widower (Persea americana) (16 Feb 2011)


As I explained in last year's list, I try to leave off the plant profiles when making these lists, because the point of these best-of lists is to call attention to posts readers might otherwise have missed, and I figure the profiles are already linked in the sidebar so there's no need. But, also like last year, I'm making an exception for the profile I liked the best, because giant ground sloths and gomphotheres are were kind of awesome, and more people should know about them.


2. Pretty pictures: Rime ice (12 Jan 2011)


Several kick-ass pictures at the rime post, but this particular one is probably my favorite photo for the whole year of 2011.


1. All the Rumble Among the Jungle posts (14 Sep to 15 Nov 2011)


Probably cheating to include this, too, since the Rumble wasn't a single post, and y'all did at least half the work there, but, you know, the Rumble was a big deal. It kinda has to be #1.

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¹ It may not be my favorite Bad Lip Reading song; there's like a four-way tie between "Russian Unicorn," "Black Umbrella (The Right Stuff)," "Morning Dew," and "Rockin' (All Night Long)." The one I listen to the most often, though, is "Rockin' (All Night Long)." It took a while to get into, but I listen to it all the time now.
² (Though the one that chirps with a lisp is probably Cindy.)
³ Quote from this article:

"We are an industry of plant nerds who hold our plants and Latin naming on a silver platter," says Olivia Sellards, Syngenta Flowers. "But we are first a service industry and should hold our customer demands before our personal preferences. Absolutely sell a (dyed) plant, a glittered poinsettia or a bunch of blue tie-dyed cut flowers. Remember, if they aren't buying real plants, consumers will buy fake ones."

Well. Cleeeeeeearly the solution is to blur the line between real and fake, then: take real plants and spray-paint, dye-inject, or glitter-bomb them until they look artificial. (That was my sarcastic voice, in case that was unclear.)
Also, Ms. Sellards: I care that you've created a plant that people can only enjoy once. This has nothing to do with Latin name snobbery; this is about deceiving customers and creating impossible expectations. It's fine to sell people plants they're clamoring for; my question is whether the customers know what they're getting. (I'm also upset with y'all for creating a tacky and garish product. But mostly the deceiving and the expectations-setting.)
I would also question whether it makes any sense to disparage an industry of plant sellers for holding their plants "on a silver platter." Ms. Sellards' thesis is that the plants should be . . . less important?
⁴ (#OccupyTheXylem!)