Ficus Pumila...

... can just go to hell. And nearly did.

I JUST got this plant and I've already maimed it. I had heard so much about this plant being tough, so I was really surprised when half of the foliage crisped up in ONE DAY, and I had to cut it all back. With hanging pots I'm usually concerned about overwatering, because excess water has no means to drain and can easily cause root rot. Thus I held back on the water and amped up the misting in an attempt to meet moisture needs through humidity... and killed it with kindness. I also neglected to repot it with a better, healthier mix when I brought it home, which was simply foolish. It shouldn't take too long to bounce back as long as I'm careful about the watering. I'll be keeping a much better eye on it - as you can see, it's a spider mite infestation waiting to happen. Apologies for catbutt.

After the loss of my asplenium bulbiferum and the rather accidental assassination of my Dryopteris erythrosora (previously and erroneously labelled "Davallia"), I needed a new fern to cheer me up.

According to the greenhouse people, "It's a red fern. A red-leaf fern." Erm... okey dokey. Hopefully I'll find out what it actually is before I kill it. In other news, I have resumed the terrarium art project...

These globes are on the fifth day of their quarantine. In case my ingredients were not perfectly sterile, I decided to give each little microsystem a week or so to start "breathing" properly and send up any volunteer stowaways. Next week I'll add a thin, thin layer of wet peat to the top, and then my Kyoto moss spores. The labels indicate different watering techniques (I'm trying to find the best way to prevent mildew and compaction).

Shoop!

Here I go, here I go, here I go again.

Girls, what's my weakness?

"Home Depot!"

Ok then. As anyone involved in the arts can attest, Home Depot is a dangerous place to be. Sculptors, painters, costume designers... you walk in and out of those motion-sensor doors, and all of your drinking money for the week has gone the way of the dodo. Now that I'm older and out of art school, I make fewer purchases like "plastic lawn deer to melt down" or "blacklights for neon velvet tableaus," but Home Depot has still figured out a way to take my money. They take it with their shitty, shitty plants.

Seeking fortifications for our domicile, the boyfriend and I make the long and treacherous journey from Rohan (Rogers Park), past Minas Tirith ("Minas TV," our favorite video store) and finally arrived at the encampment at Helm's Deepot. Here is a map (click to enlarge).

So I'm in there, chillin, chillin, minding my business, and what do I see? A big variegated Ficus pumila (probably "Sunny") for sale, on the cheap. I mean yes, it had lots of dead foliage, and probably spider mites, and root rot. But I understand that what when you buy plants from a store like the 'Po, you just want a holla for a dolla. So I grabbed that, and several other sickly little bastards. All the while, my boyfriend is shaking his head in disgust.

"Why do we need that?" he says of the beacarnea.

"Well it's only three dollars, and there's nine plantlets in there... if I raise them and sell them, we could make a profit."

"Uh huh," says he, "what about that?"

"Cotyledon tomentosa?" I struggled for an answer. "Well... look, it just has to come home with us. It looks like little furry paws, reaching out for help. Plus I don't have one yet."

And so...

Now to separate the beaucarneas. As I said, there were nine beautiful little plantlets in the pot.

First I teased out the rootball as much as I could. When no more dirt would come out I gave the rootball a good rinse and eased the plants apart very gently.

In an attempt to preserve the roots and create as little damage as possible, I used my fingers to untangle the knot of roots, literally pulling out each root at a time. Luckily it went well and there was little breakage. At this stage I should have sprinkled on a little rooting hormone, but I forgot.

I decided to pot the plants in several different mediums, just to see what would work. Nobody needs nine ponytail palms, so if some of them die I will say, "IT WAS IN THE NAME OF SCIENCE!" I labeled them with my goofy shorthand.

While I washed my hands, one was immediately eaten in its entirety by the cats (RIP). Five of them went into a mix of equal parts cactus soil (CS), perlite (PL), and small lava rock (pum). Two of these are a sort of control group, outside in plastic pots. Then two of them are outside in clay pots, and one is inside in plastic. Finally, one plant apiece went into plain cactus soil, plain perlite, and plain potting mix (PS).

Good luck, baby ponytails!

Nothing like that Homegrown

What started as a humble windowbox on my back porch has become an urban catnip lab. It must be the good stuff, because I've got stoners and layabouts of the feline persuasion howling and running in circles every time someone goes out the back door. My lavender smells heavenly, and just became full enough to warrant a little harvest:

Finally... pictures of the ledebouria (socialis?) bloom:

The recently separated aloe parvula "Jacobsonii" pup:

And that's all for today.

In Memoriam II: Letters

Dear Chelianthes tomentosas;

Is it ironic that I thought, "If I use a different potting medium for each one, one should be guaranteed to live?" Or is it ironic that my boyfriend named you both after death metal bands, and now you're both dead?

Dear Colocasia "Black Magic;"

"Magic" my ass. Why don't you summon some magic and learn to water yourself? Avada Kedavra, bitch!

Dear Nematanthus gregarious;

Here's my impression of you. "Too hot," "Too dry," "Too dark," "Too bright," "I'm hungry," "I don't like this fertilizer," "I made a mess all over the floor." Here's my impression of me: "I am going to kill this fucking nematanthus right now."

Dear Asplenium nidus "Fimbriatum;"

I regret to inform you that your request for more time to deal with your scale problem has been denied.

Dear Arachniodes simplicior;

It's hard for me to say this... but it was me, not you. You were so beautiful, and I treated you badly. I'm sorry I never told you about the other East Indian holly ferns... I thought this time would be different. Rest in peace, and take comfort in the fact that even though I'm going to replace you with a younger, better specimen, you were really special.

Sincerely,

-Nature Assassin

With a nerdy yell

... she cried "spores, spores, spores." Look what I found on my microsorum thailandicum (formerly microsorum steerei). Somebody has been getting busy. I guess since they reproduce asexually, the more accurate Idol reference would have been "Dancing with Myself." We all know what that song is really about.

Welp, get your squirrel hair brushes and your field lenses. It's time to get geeky. Don't forget to have a clean paper envelope on hand to collect your spore casings.

Ferns reproduce with spores very much like seed, so if you find some strange dusty bumps under the fronds of your fern, don't panic. It's a sign of good health, and you can save the spores to make baby ferns later (if you are very patient). All you have to do is gently remove the spores with your brush - any small paintbrush will do - and set them aside to dry. I collected my spores on a sheet of white paper, which I then funneled into my envelope. Mark it, and place it in a cool, dry, dark place for a couple of weeks. A drawer is fine.

Photos of "how to sow your spores under glass" are soon to follow. With any luck, my wimpy strap fern will one day rival the specimen at the Missouri Botanical Gardens. If photo depth perception is obscure, let me tell you that this fern was many feet taller than am I. Click for larger view.

Did you know...

That peperomias will root in water? Neither did I!

I gave my good friend Julia a jar of cuttings from my peperomia argyreia (watermelon... see this post), blathering on about the correct way to root a petiole cutting. "Don't leave them in the water," I chided her, "pot them as soon as you get home." Julia, who has a life, stuck them on a shelf and forgot about them. Weeks later, she showed me this:

Hellz yes! Now that I know, I'm going to root these bitches on the daily. I love to have spare cuttings for swapping. I wonder what members of the peperomia tribe have this quality? I would guess caperata over obtusifolia, on the other hand, argyreia is a succulent variety and caperata is not. Hmm.

WHAT IS IT?!

It's our old friend scindapsus pictus. Scindapsus argyraeum is fine too, I think. Ok, now what ISN'T it?

1) It's not philodendron sodiroi, though I have seen it mislabeled as such

2) It isn't philodendron ornatum, I don't know how anyone even got that idea but they did

3) It's not even remotely oreopanax sanderianus, although the Missouri BG tagged it so

4) It it NOT silver philodendron. There are in existence some silvery philodendrons... this ain't one. I don't care what google says.

5) Epipremnum pictum: no no no no no. This name is very often applied to this plant but it is not an epipremnum, mon frere!

6) Satin pothos: it is not an epipremnum, which mean's it isn't a pothos, although a pothos isn't an epipremnum technically. Those goshdarn rascally botanists! 

7) Silk pothos: come on now. 

It is a scindapsus, which from what I can tell means it's just like epipremnum... only not. There is a tiny difference in seed pods. I blame google for the chaos. Roll back, google, you fuckers is dumbern'a post. 

*image courtesy of davesgarden