Tropical and Temperate Beauty

It's been a good year for Hibiscus here among the leaves. I don't usually have serious problems with my Hibiscus rosa-sinensis plants. Oh, there was that attack of aphids a couple of years ago. And there was some serious leaf loss due to underwatering last winter. But with diligent use of insecticidal soap, and a good pruning, all turned out well. They bloom sporadically during their cool months indoors, and more regularly during their summer outdoors.

Hibiscus rosa-sinensis 'Carolina Breeze' enjoying summer on my front stoop.

The cold-hardy garden plant Hibiscus moschuetos is usually another story. Oh, mine grows vigorously enough every year, but it is also the Japanese beetle magnet from hell. While those voracious little demons (Popillia japonica) will eat almost anything, they do especially love the Malvaceae, the family to which Hibiscus belong. They are also particularly drawn to white flowers, which my particular H. moschuetos has. (Alcea, aka hollyhocks, are also in the Malvaceae, and the beetles go after them as well. Strangely, they tend to leave 3 out of my 4 H. rosa-sinensis alone. They do like my peach double-flowered Hibiscus, which has thinner, more tender leaves than the other three.)

So this year, I planned to get rid of the H. moschuetos, since I never got to enjoy the flowers without those nasty bugs crawling all over them. I cut it down to within a few inches of the ground in May or June, with plans to dig it out later. But I never got around to doing so, and the plant started to grow back. This year's beetle season turned out to be quite light, so the foliage remained relatively untouched. And because bud formation was delayed due to the drastic pruning, the plant is just coming into bloom now, instead of its usual bloom time of early August. (The peak of the beetle season is generally July through mid-August in my area, though in heavy infestation years, it can start earlier and go much later. )

Hibiscus moschuetos, cultivar unknown. The photograph doesn't fully capture the tinge of pink at the edges of the petals.

I'm thrilled that for once, I get to fully enjoy both types of Hibiscus in my garden.

I'm Going to Miss Them

One of the things I really like about the northwest suburbs of Chicago is that it is a nursery-rich area. I greatly miss living in the New York metropolitan area, (it will always be Home) but I have to admit that when it comes to places to buy houseplants, suburban New York is somewhat lacking.

So one of the first things I did, once I became comfortable finding my way around on my own here in Illinois, was to check out the various nurseries in the outlying areas. In 2004, I discovered Geimer's Greenhouses, in Long Grove. I will never forget the first time I walked in. They had a nice selection of houseplants, but what really floored me was the array of cacti and succulents. I had never seen so many for sale in one place in my entire life. The variety was impressive as well. They had things I had previously only seen offered for sale by specialty mail-order companies. Sansevieria species other than S. trifasciata. Lots of Haworthia varieties. Succulent Peperomias. Euphorbias. Okay, some of the larger plants were out of my price range. But there were reasonably priced smaller plants as well. That first day, I purchased an Aloe juvenna, a mystery Aloe that might possibly be Aloe sinkatana, a Peperomia dolabriformis and Sansevieria ballyi. After that, I made it a habit to visit Geimer's at least three times a year, (Long Grove is a bit too far from home for frequent casual shopping ) and I never left empty-handed.

Mystery Aloe, possibly Aloe sinkatana, purchased in 2004. I don't really care what it is; this is my favorite of the Aloes that I own. This photograph is from last summer, but the plant is still going strong. When I purchased it, the main stem was about the size of the two pups seen here, and the pups were just getting started.

The Sansevieria masonia on the left, the dark Sansevieria trifasciata variety at the rear center, and the Sansevieria kirkii var kirkii to the right are all from Geimer's. (The S. kirkii var pulchra 'Coppertone' in front was purchased elsewhere.)

Well, on Thursday, I decided to stop by on the way home from the Chicago Botanic Gardens, and discovered, to my dismay, that Geimer's will be closing as of Labor Day. Apparently, they hadn't been doing well enough lately to be able to renew their lease, and announced their upcoming closing last spring. Somehow, I missed this information when I visited in spring and early summer. Statement from their website here. If you click through to their gallery page, there is a picture of their succulent selection near the bottom. That is what I saw when I first walked into the place six years ago.

Ten plants purchased from Geimer's on Thursday. I purchased eight of them for under thirty dollars, (full price would have been nearly $100) then went back and purchased two more (The Sansevieria parva on the far left, and the grey Euphorbia mammillaris to its right). Also pictured, Sansevieria dawei, Agave victoria-reginae, Aloe nobilis (I think) and Sansevieria kirkii var kirkii. (Yes, I just had to have another one.) There are also yet-to-be identified Gasteria, Haworthia, Ledbouria and Crassula varieties shown.

When the cashier commented on my considerable savings, I said that I would be have been happy to pay full price if it meant that they were staying open. And I really meant it. I've only known Geimer's Greenhouse for 6 of their 82 years, and I wish it could have been more.

I've Been a Naughty Plant Lady

Earlier this summer, I vowed that I would go on a six-month plant buying hiatus, starting the day after my birthday, July 16.

Well, I made it for about a month. A lot of little things in my personal life have been getting me down lately, and frankly, plant retail therapy, while not a cure, is definitely palliative. Besides, now is the time when nurseries put their annuals on sale. And as savvy shoppers know, several plants sold as annuals are actually tropical perennials in disguise. So in the past few days, I purchased these:

According to the tag this is Iresine herbstii 'Aureo Lime Green,' which I suppose is a variation of Iresine herbstii aureo-reticulata. Sold by a local nursery as an "annual" for containers, these make decent houseplants with lots of light and regular watering.

Closer view. I love the contrast between the variegated leaves and the shocking pink stems.

Another "annual," variegated Tradescantia pallida

A replacement for the Hedera helix 'Goldheart' I lost to spider mites last winter. This was actually the plant that broke the hiatus, about two weeks ago. I tried to convince myself that replacing a plant didn't really count as buying something new.

The following plants aren't naughty, since I purchased them before the original cut-off date. I just hadn't gotten around to showing them off until now.

According to its tag, this is Aloe 'Fire Ranch' If you click for the larger view, you can see the nice red teeth, though I think the name is actually for its red and orange flowers.

Aloe 'Wamsley's Bronze' variegated, according to the seller.

This aloe, an eBay auction win, arrived with its rootball almost completely severed from the stem, due to a less-than-stellar packing job by the seller. I told him I wasn't going to ask for a refund immediately, since I thought I could reroot it, and he said to let him know if that didn't work out. (I still think he should have offered a refund regardless of the outcome, but c'est la vie.) It did root, surprisingly quickly, and is even putting out a new pup. I also won the Huernia below from the same seller, and it arrived undamaged in the same package.

Huernia zebrina ssp zebrina, nicely colored in the sun

I had a better experience with my next eBay transaction. I won the auction for the Aloe dorothea, and the seller included the lightly variegated Aloe brevifolia as a free bonus. (She had been selling a more strongly variegated A. brevifolia in another auction.)

Aloe dorothea

Aloe brevifolia. There are faint lines of variegation in some of the leaves. One leaf had a bigger area of variegation, which seems to have gotten lightly sunburned.

I've decided to abandon the idea of a buying hiatus for now, because being naughty has, quite frankly, been quite nice.

Not Forgotten

It seems that lately, most of my posts have either been about my succulents, or my outdoor garden. This is probably because I'm a summertime girl, and I try to spend as much time outdoors as possible. This doesn't mean that I've forgotten about my leafy tropicals. As I've noted before, most of these stay indoors year round. I grow houseplants because I like having plants inside my house. Carting them all outside for a significant part of the year would defeat that purpose.

One thing that always pleases me is having my Monstera deliciosa produce new leaves, which it doesn't do too often. Considering how huge the plant is already, this is probably not a bad thing. (Click on the "Monstera" label to see previous posts that show just how huge.)

Two freshly opened Monstera deliciosa leaves

In looking over my previous posts about this plant, I realize that I never wrote about the attack of scale insects that it suffered last year. I am happy to report that it responded well to treatment, which consisted of removing a couple of the most seriously infested leaves, wiping away visible scale with alcohol-soaked cotton pads, the application of a systemic insecticide to the soil, and periodic misting with an alcohol and water mixture for a few weeks. I was devastated to find the insects, and relieved that I managed to rid the plant of them. I am not a fan of strong insecticides like the imidacloprid formula I used, but I have a sentimental attachment to this plant, as it is the most successful houseplant I ever grew from seed.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, August 2010

Once again, I am happy to participate in Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day. August is a bit of a slow month for blooms in my garden. The flowers of June and July have faded, and the September show of Sedums, Asters, and Sweet Autumn Clematis have not yet begun. And since I tend to grow my houseplants more for foliage and form than flowers, there is not a lot going on there either. But I do have a few things to share.

Indoors:

Aglaonema 'Sethimankong' with its greenish spathe-and-spadix flower

Aglaonema 'Siam Aurora' The white flower stands out against the red-patterned leaves. There is an old spadix visible as well.

Gymnocalycium stenopleurum bud just shy of opening. Photographs of a fully open flower can be seen here, in a post from last October.

Outdoors:

Coreopsis verticillata 'Zagreb'

Salvia nemorosa 'East Friesland.' My older plants are pretty much spent, but the ones I planted in a new bed this spring are still going.

Rudbeckia fulgida 'Goldsturm'

Weigela florida 'Red Prince' June's big show of blooms is long past, but a few new flowers pop up all summer.

I have self-sown Hollyhocks (Alcea rosea) every year; the original planting was in 2005, I think.

Delosperma dyeri cultivar

Container planted with Portulaca grandiflora

A recently purchased Echinacea 'Harvest Moon' planted in a new bed we've made in our backyard. The Echinacea varieties elsewhere in the garden are looking a bit weathered at this point, since they've been in bloom for more than a month.

Here's hoping that every day is a happy bloom day for my fellow gardeners.

Upsides, Downsides, and an Update

I live in a relatively new subdivision. One of the downsides to this, so I thought, was the relative lack of mature trees, both as street trees and in people's yards. I like neighborhoods full of graceful, mature shade trees. However, there are a couple of upsides to this. For one, much of my front yard is in full sun, the better to grow the types of annuals, perennials and bulbs I enjoy most. I'll get to the other upside in a moment.

Swath of Crocuses in my garden from last March. There is a reason why I'm reposting this unseasonal picture, which will become clear later.

Since we no longer have dogs, we've been able to seal off our doggie door to the outside. This means that our cats, which we intended to be indoor pets in the first place, cannot let themselves outdoors at will. The major upsides to that are that we don't have to worry about our cats being endangered by traffic, or having encounters with dangerous animals. (We have raccoon and foxes around, and a coyote was spotted once, several years ago.) The second major upside is that we don't have to worry about the cats having encounters with animals to which they are dangerous. Over the years, Luke and Peppermint have brought in numerous birds, mice, chipmunks and baby rabbits, some alive, some dead. The dead ones were distressing enough, but capturing and freeing the living creatures was always a frustrating task. The downside to the loss of the doggie door, is, of course, that it came about due to the deaths of Jenny and Laces, who we miss very much. But there is also a downside to not letting the cats out, which will follow.

Closer view of some of my favorite Crocuses.

The other upside to the lack of mature trees, which I was alluding to above, is that we have had very few squirrels in our neighborhood. The number has been slowly increasing over the years however, which leads to the downside of not having cats patrol our yard. With Luke, and especially Peppermint, no longer giving chase, at least one squirrel has found our yard to be a safe place to hang out, which has led to this:

Holes where at least one squirrel has dug up and consumed a number of crocus bulbs. In the second picture, with the two holes, you can see the debris from the consumed bulbs. These shots are from the same place as the drift of crocuses in the first picture I posted. I'll have to do some replanting if I want to have a nice display of flowers to herald the arrival of spring.

Since I don't want to resort to inhumane methods, I've been spreading blood meal (a readily available fertilizer) in the beds where the crocuses are planted. This, supposedly, will discourage squirrels from digging in those areas. I also lost my patience the other day, and threw a couple of rocks in the general direction of a squirrel who was hanging out in my maple tree. I wasn't aiming to hit him; I was trying to scare him away, which it did, at least for a while. It upsets me that I feel this way; I used to like squirrels, honest.

And on a cheerier note, the update:

Thelocactus lloydii in bloom

I posted a picture of this cactus shortly after I purchased it, last May. Since it has been outdoors this summer, it has bloomed three times, the third of which was the other day.

Possible Identification of "Mom's Plant"

In a February, I made post about my uncanny ability to zero in on, and purchase Mammillarias, despite preferring cactus with showier blooms. In that post, I wrote about a cactus that I could never seem to identify, a gift from my mother. Here is what I wrote then:

"About ten years ago, my mother took a trip to Las Vegas. As a side excursion, she and her friends also visited the Grand Canyon. At a gift shop nearby, she spotted a tiny plant in a tiny pot with "Grand Canyon" handpainted on the side and decided to pick it up for her plant-loving daughter. She flew home to New York with it in her purse. (Can you imagine what airport security would say if you tried to put a cactus in your carry-on these days?) She told me "I thought you'd like this to go with your other cactuses." The thing is, I didn't have any other cactuses, and the only succulents I owned were some Sansevierias. My apartment had obstructed west windows, and wasn't sunny enough for succulents. But I was determined to keep my gift alive and well. I balanced the little pot directly on the top of a window sash, right near the lock, so it would get the most sunlight possible. Three years later, when I moved to Illinois, it was still alive and moved with me. In its first summer outdoors, it bloomed. It had kind of nondescript, straw-colored flowers, but I loved them anyway. It is in a bigger pot now, but it still spends winters on top of a window sash, for optimum light, and it blooms every year....

I've never been able to identify it, despite asking in a couple of different forums and poring over picture after picture. It is small, solitary and plain. But I will always treasure it. My mom died suddenly last year, so it is now something special to remember her by. It gave me great pleasure to be able to show it to her in bloom in 2005 when she visited me here in Illinois. And I'll always smile when I think about her with a cactus in her purse."

Well, I now think I know what it is: Mammillaria formosa subsp. microthele.

Mom's plant, just beginning to bloom, this week. It will eventually have a ring of these small, pinkish flowers. (This photo is especially large when opened in a new window.)

Its solitary growth habit thus far is what was throwing me off, I think. Most pictures I've seen show it forming a clump of several heads.

But, ID or no ID, I will always treasure this plant.

In Praise of Succulents: Euphorbia edition

In a post from last November, called An Unexpected Favorite, I shared my thoughts on my largest Euphorbia lactea. I also mentioned that I find Euphorbias in general fascinating, and a little scary, what with their often vicious spines and equally vicious (and viscous) sap. But I delight in their dangerousness, not unlike girls who go for bad boys. And like certain so-called bad boys, who are real sweethearts once you get them home, these have all been a pleasure to have around the house.

The Euphorbia lactea that I wrote about previously. The non-crested portion of the plant continues to grow at a much more rapid pace than the crest. I have finally noticed some growth in the crest this summer.

Another view of the same plant on the porch along with the NoId Euphorbia I wrote about last week, and two small crested E. lactea. At least I think the pinkish one is an E. lactea.

Euphorbia milii. There are two different varieties in one pot. As seen here, the variety with the darker, more rounded leaves has pink flowers. The plant with the longer paler leaves has bi-colored flowers that are predominately yellow.

Known in my household as the "Evil Pointy Plant of Death" my Euphorbia tortirama, here and below, is currently in bloom.

I took particular delight in taking some pictures of Euphorbias during my last few trips to the Chicago Botanic Gardens:

Euphorbia abyssinica variegata, the full plant in all its convoluted glory above, and a closeup below.

I'm sorry that I didn't note the name of this species, but I love its variegation, which can be seen more easily here below. The flowers in both pictures are from a nearby Aloe. Edited to Add 9/9/10: I saw the tag today. The plant is Euphorbia pseudocactus.

Last, and certainly not least, is a Euphorbia lactea crest that puts my little plants to shame.

Of course, I haven't had 100 percent success with Euphorbias; I've lost both Euphorbia obesa and Euphorbia suzannae in the past. But those small setbacks have left me eager to try both again in the future.