In Memoriam III

Dearly beloved. We are gathered here to honor the memory of my latest assassinations. Take comfort in the knowledge that, in death, they serve a greater purpose... making room for more plants.

Roll call!

Adenium obesum - incurable and debilitating case of the uglies; also mealybugs

Nephrolepis exaltata - scale

Ficus pumila - mealy bugs

Schlumbergera NOID - ritual seppuku

Leptinella squalida - root nematodes

Plumera rubra - mauled to death

Microsorum diversifolium - scale

Jasminum sambac 'Belle of India' - thirst. This cultivar should really be called 'Candyass of India,' or perhaps 'Viola,' because it's a pansy. Yeah, that's right, I killed you and I'm NOT sorry. You were not well-suited to indoor culture. In fact, as a species, you Jasminums need to get your shit together! Until then, friendship cancelled.

 If you would like to express your condolences, feel free to send me more plants. I'll be out, grieving. And shopping. For plants.

Mah Derpday!

a birthday drawing of me, courtesy of boyfriend assassin

Stop! Tubertime.

Just in case you were curious...

this is the difference between a typical colocasia and a typical alocasia tuber. neat, hanh?

I know the sign says "caladium," and in fact both tubers were labeled caladiums. But nope; I spoke someone who was working the booth, and he identified them. He also gave me REALLY good advice on the different ways to overwinter an alocasia!

Houseplanters of the World, Unite and Take Over.

The Chicago Garden and Flower Show was fantastic once again. The venue was huge, the exhibits were lush, and the vendors were varied and fun. I got to converse with Cactus Bill of Ted's Nursery, the dip people were there, there were even packs of seeds in the press room... what more could a girl want?

Of course there were the greenscapers exhibits, where businesses show off their talent for garden, patio, and "water feature" design with interactive displays. The Shedd Aquarium, Garfield and Lincoln Conservatories, and Chicago Botanic Gardens also had beautiful walk-throughs to showcase their conifers, tropicals, and bonsai, respectively. The theme/concept this year was something goofy having to do with the theater, but it was kept to a tactful minimum. We can't forget why we're here, after all... the wine tasting! I mean the plants, the plants.

Flowering Nymphaea (noid) amongst some floating Pistia (noid)

Unfortunately, the "New Varieties" exhibit was less than exhilarating. I was anticipating wild hybrid Aglaonemas from Thailand and psycho Asiatica-caliber ferns. But alas, the selection was limited to the Ball horticultural company's latest dabblings in coleus and petunias. If I sound a little disappointed, I am. I mean, Jesus christ, I love coleus, but who cares about ANOTHER new one? Let's get some tropicals up in this bitch!

To be fair, the majority of attendees at this event are likely gardeners of the... um... garden variety, and not houseplant freaks like you and me. So perhaps I'm not the target market. And I'll admit that Petunia 'Sophistica Collection: Lime Bicolor' was pretty neat; I would party with that Petunia.

Ball's Petunia 'Lime Bicolor:' you and me, chilling at the Holiday Inn. Bring your friends.

I was also thoroughly surprised by the amount of tropical houseplants that were displayed as landscape material. Indoor gardener that I am, each of my plants feels very precious to me, and I take pains to keep them alive year after year. So it seems a bizarre practice indeed to plant a yard full of tender plants for summer, only to pull them up and throw them out in fall. And what Chicagoan in their right mind would plant a yardful of tropicals? What are you gonna do, store 'em all in your garage for the winter? I know that ultimately these displays were only for decorative effect, but let's keep it real people. Achmeas belong in conservatories or in pots, not en masse between your sprinkler and your grill:

Phalaenopsis orchids and calatheas in your yard? That'll look good for about, mmm, eight days:

Aphelandras (they know that these don't spread, right?):

A battalion of Sanseverias and Campanulas. Now, Campanula can be grown as a houseplant or a perennial groundcover, but you won't be seeing those Sans again in spring. Not around here, mon frere!

Primulas and Clivias. Primula is another houseplant that is commonly planted outdoors in the yard or in patio baskets, and then discarded in fall. Clivias, though? What would Thalassa Cruso say? Probably "Balderdash."

And now, the story you've been waiting for with baited breath: The Houseplant Competition! I wish I could have been there during opening weekend to see the judging. It would have been a delight to see all of the entries, but the winners were still interesting. Each division had its own table; here we see winners of the "Non-Flowering Plants" division (what is that begonia doing in there?).

The Araucaria excelsa looked small but pretty for an eight-year-old specimen; the judges gave it 3rd place and recommended turning to improve symmetry. Although the growth pattern of Araucarias is radially symmetrical, it can be difficult to see in a small specimen, so the issue isn't worth dwelling on, in my opinion. Likewise, choosing the Malpighia pendiculata for first place (far right) seemed odd, although it was well deserved of the Youth Horticultural Award, since its keeper was only ten years old. The orchids were seriously underrepresented:

The Cactus division had a couple of cuties, including this Ancanthocalycium thionanthum, which was awarded second place. The judges suggested was aesthetically overpotted, and again, I have to disagree. Why go smaller with such unique specimens?

The real ass-kicker was this Bowiea volubilis, which took Best in Show. I have never even felt an inkling of desire over a Bowiea, having previously regarded them as nothing more than botanical curiosities. But this plant (which was nine years old) blew my mind. I daresay it was pretty!

So I think the message is pretty clear: next year, we take over the horticultural competition! Given all the garden bloggers that attend this event, we could really bring in the noise. I want to see gesneriad lovers getting in fistfights, and cactus nuts chucking gymnocalyciums. Mr. Subjunctive could give a lecture on zombie-gardening while we spitball the landscapers. Then, we storm the Botanic Garden exhibit and take the bonsai collection hostage until someone agrees to validate our parking. Garden Show Smackdown 2011: Rumble At Navy Pier.

Photo credits for this post belong to Boyfriend Assassin, who was kind enough to take pictures while I zipped around making glee-noises.