Those Glowing Eyes...

Can only mean one thing: Happy Halloween!

This is our cat Luke, investigating the Hedera helix cultivars in the tub after their bi-weekly soap-and-water rinse.

Luke is not particularly photogenic, but in person, he is a very handsome cat indeed. Unlike our other cat, Peppermint, Luke is quite shy, but he is also very sweet. I call him my "little boyfriend," much to my husband's annoyance.

Below is a bonus Hedera picture. Had I known I had a photograph of this particular plant, I would have included it in this week's Ivy Chronicles.

I think this is Hedera helix 'Yellow Ripple'

Pictures from the Chicago Botanic Gardens

It has been a hectic week here among the leaves. Our golden retriever, Laces, had to have some unplanned surgery, as a benign growth in her ear ruptured. She's fine now, back home and pretty much herself, but travel and anesthesia always exacerbate her mobility issues, so we were a bit worried. And I didn't have a lot of time for blogging.

So I thought I'd share some pictures I took last summer at the Chicago Botanic Gardens, mostly in their greenhouses.

A beautiful specimen of Begonia 'Looking Glass.' Since it is a favorite of mine, I've tried to grow Looking Glass a couple of times, only to have it succumb to powdery mildew.


Silvery fan palms. I neglected to copy the name from the tag, but I think they are Bismarckia nobilis

A tree of epiphytes, most notably Phalaenopsis orchids, Tillandsia usneoides (Spanish moss) and other orchid and Tillandsia species.


Nepenthes (Pitcher plants) in a bed of Selaginella

A couple of outdoor shots:

Rudbeckia hirta 'Autumn Colors' and Rubeckia hirta 'Prairie Sun' in the English Walled Garden at the CBG. I already grow Prairie Sun in my own garden and love them. I'm going to try the 'Autumn Colors' as well.

Whenever I visit the CBG during the warm months, I alway stop at the water garden and say hello to the ducks. As far as I can ascertain, these are American Black Ducks, Anas rubripes

As always, a click will enlarge the pictures. I especially recommend the Begonia and Rudbeckias in their large versions.

The Ivy Chronicles, Part II

So about a week after I ended up with three additional ivy plants, I was shopping at another store, checking out the annuals. Not only can a girl always use a few more petunias for her outdoor baskets, but lots of plants that other folks consider annuals are actually tender perennials that make fine houseplants. (This year, I scored another Asparagus “fern”, a Crossandra , and a Pilea cardieria, and decided against a Dragon Wing Begonia. But again, I digress.)

And while shopping, what do I spy among the annuals? More ivy! And these are different from the ones I already have. There is a variegated type whose leaves remind me of yellow-edged flames, (possibly Hedera helix 'Yellow Ripple') and a beautifully patterned green and white variety, which I have tentatively identified as Hedera helix ‘Kolibri’ Of course I buy them. At this point, I’m not even pretending that they are for my wreath. These will be houseplants.

I think this is Hedera helix 'Kolibri'

So I was up to six plants. And I’ve made a little pact with my husband: Starting on June 1st of 2008, I’m not going to buy any more houseplants for six months. My husband is a great supporter of my houseplant hobby. However, he was a bit worried about me back then. I had been suffering from plant care burnout. And our budget needed a break. So I stop visiting the houseplant sections of nurseries, and my ivy acquisitions ceased.

Summer comes and goes, and I bring my ivies indoors, to live in my bedroom window shelves. This window is ideal for ivy in the winter. It gets quite cool at night, because I break a cardinal houseplant rule: I let the plants stay between a window and the closed curtain during the night. I’ve never had a plant object to this treatment, though I might remove a few tender plants temporarily when the Chicagoland night temperatures hit the single digits, Fahrenheit.

The six months of our pact pass relatively quickly. The ivies have all done well under the mist-and-wash regimen described in Part I. And since I think they look so lovely in the red pots, I decide that if I do buy more ivies in the future, that is what I will use for them all.

In late January, Bob and I are in Lowes shopping for who-remembers-what, and I wander into the houseplant area. And what do I see? Another Hedera helix that I don’t have. This one has small, lobe-less leaves, with a hint of chartreuse coloration.

NoId as described in the paragraph above

And so it continues. A trip to my favorite nursery yields a Heart-shaped Hedera. I don’t know if this is actually Hedera hibernica ‘Deltoidea’ or one of the heart-shaped H. helix varieties, but I had to have it. Then I’m at the supermarket, and I decide that if I’m going to have an ivy collection, I need a plain green variety in the classic ivy shape, so another plant finds its way into my cart.

Hedera hibernica ‘Deltoidea’ ?

And then there were nine. A midwinter trip to Home Depot finds me scooping up an ivy with curled leaves and stems, and another with small, nearly lobe-less leaves and white variegation (maybe H. helix ‘Little Diamond’)

I’m up to eleven now. Another nursery trip nets me a Hedera with gray-and-lime green variegation.

NoId Hedera helix with gray and lime variegation
Edited to add: This may be H. helix 'Minty'

And last but not least, a mail-order purchase, pictured below:

Hedera helix ‘Fluffy Ruffles’

There have been some setbacks. In early May, a crisis in my personal life, which involved a certain amount of travel, caused me to neglect my ivy regimen. This, combined with a warming trend in the bedroom window, causes an outbreak of mites. (Just as it gets cold between the window and the curtains on winter nights, it gets quite warm in the spring and summer.) I was heartbroken, as two of my favorites, the original plant that started it all, and the needlepoint, are the most affected.

I immediately move the ivies outside, where I spray them down with soap, then blast them with the hose. I also pick off the most damaged leaves. A couple of days later, I spray everyone with fish emulsion, in the hopes it will help the leaves that were only minimally damaged to green up a little. This actually seemed to work pretty well. I promise myself to never let the mites take hold again.

So, here I am in October 2009. I added a few more plants, so I now have 15, all in their red pots. (I did have two more, but they were tiny plants that didn’t survive the summer.) I’ve started the regimen again, and I’m hoping in the future, the transition from winter to spring will be easier. I’m not as obsessive a collector as I pretend to be; I do pass up plants, even Hederas, that don’t appeal to me, all the time. I don’t find every ivy beautiful (or every Aloe, or every Sansevieria–these are the other genera that I always look for.) But there are a lot more out there that I will find beautiful, and quite of few of them will be coming home with me.

This, and the plant below, are two Hedera NoIds I've added this year, but aren't mentioned in the text of this post.

Love those elongated leaves!
Edited to add: this is probably Hedera helix 'Hester'

The Ivy Chronicles, Part I

I've always loved Hedera helix. It's just one of those plants I find beautiful. But it was on my "never again" list for at least seven years. (Well, I suppose the list should really be the "Never-again-as-of-this-moment-but-I'll-probably-change-my-mind" list, but I digress.) Ivies always succumbed to something, usually spider mite troubles, exacerbated by the warm dry air of the apartments where I lived. In fact, even if they didn't have mites, the warmth, plus my tendency toward erratic watering, proved their downfall. I even tried to get that ivy look by trying Senecio macroglossus variegatum, which looks very much like Hedera helix. But that plant comes with its own set of quirks, and didn't work out for me, either.

Then, in the fall of 2007, I was offered some Hedera helix cuttings in a situation where it felt awkward to turn them down. Although I loved the shape and petite size of its leaves, the source plant was not especially attractive. It was a bit straggly and its leaves looked rather bleached out, which I attributed to mite damage. But I accepted the cuttings, and brought them home to root. I washed them thoroughly with soapy water, gave them a good cold-water rinse, and placed them in a nice blue glass vase to root in water. I had to admit that they looked kind of pretty. I never had luck rooting ivy cuttings back in the day, so I didn't really expect anything to come of my efforts. But at least I could say that I gave it a try.

I was wrong. The cuttings rooted eagerly. And once I potted them up and started to fertilize regularly, the leaves actually greened up nicely. The pale coloring hadn't been mite damage after all; my best guess is that the source plant was probably just underfed, under lit, and kept overly warm.

My original ivy, as of yesterday

I was psyched. I had a pretty plant. Now all I had to do was keep it alive and mite free. So I started my ivy regimen: Misting it with water every morning and giving it a soap-and-water washing and cool rinse every other week. Now, I do not believe in misting my houseplants for humidity; studies have shown that to be ineffective. However, it is my understanding that spider mites love things hot and dry, and are repelled by cool water. I do have a few air plants (Tillandsia species) that I mist daily as their source of water. So I kept my ivy in the same window, so as not to forget to give any incipient mites their daily discouraging blast of water. With this system, my plant thrived and made it through the winter, looking lovely and full.

View showing whole plant

So spring of 2008 arrives, and I have an idea. I always wanted to try a living wreath, and I always thought that different cultivars of Hedera helix would look gorgeous in such a display. I knew from observation in previous years that the big box stores sell ivies as ground covers and outdoor annuals quite cheaply. So off I go to Home Depot. I found a couple of different ivies with white variegation and yellow variegation with the outdoor plants, as I expected, so I get a few of those.

White variegated Hedera helix, possibly H. helix 'Glacier'

Then, indoors among the houseplants, I found some plain green varieties in a standard ivy shape, and a needlepoint shape. (I don't know if it is the actual cultivar called 'Needlepoint,' so I'll leave it uncapitalized.) They were the same price as the outdoor plants, so I buy a few pots of those. So I'm all set. These will be for my outdoor wreath only. Hah! I make my wreath and of course, I have ivy left over (both variegated types and the needlepoint.) I pot them in pretty red pots, and place them on my porch, where they join my original plant, which is enjoying a season outdoors. So now I have four plants. "That's not so bad," I tell myself, as I slip into denial.

Hedera helix with pointy leaves. The leaves are thinner than pictures I've seen of the cultivar called 'Needlepoint'

Tune in tomorrow for part II.

Who Ordered the Salad?

Welcome to the weekend slacker post. This is Jenny, litter mate and lifelong companion to Laces, who was featured last week. Jenny doesn't have the same health problems that her sister does, but she doesn't have the same sweet and easy-going personality, either. But she's cute, and we love her. She decided to investigate the Haworthias that I put on the floor to photograph on Thursday. In an unusually smart move, she decided not to taste them.


(No, Jenny doesn't usually eat houseplants. But she does love vegetables. And these were in bowls on the floor, like her food. And she's not the smartest dog in the world...)

Blooming this week

Except for Wednesday, when it was partly sunny and nearly 70 degrees F, it has been a dreary week here among the leaves. So, I went hunting around the house for some cheerful plant life. Here are some pictures of the few things that have been blooming (or, in one case, has been preparing to bloom) during the past few days:

A Schlumbergera 'Thor Alex' bloom nestled in the leaves of a Phalaenopsis orchid. You can see its own foliage to right.

A Pelargonium still blooming on my front porch. I ought to bring it indoors one of these days.

NoId Aloe cultivar blooming in the basement under lights. A bit sparse perhaps, but still nice.

Gymnocalycium mihanovichii (or maybe G. stenopleurum) in bloom

The same cactus with a better view of the plant. I have seen Gymnos of this color grafted, as with the yellow and red varieties, but this one is clearly thriving on its own. It has flowered (usually more than once) all three summers that I've owned it.

Astrophytum asterias. It has two flower buds, but they will probably bolt, as they did last year when I brought the plant in for the winter. I am keeping my fingers crossed, though. It did bloom during the summer.

As usual, all pictures open larger when clicked. I especially recommend looking at the first Gymnocalycium picture, as well as the photo of the Astrophytum, in their larger versions.

Haworthia Bowls

I love succulent dish gardens. However, making them can be problematic. There can be a surprising range of water and light requirements among cactus and succulents, as well as varying dormant seasons. Another problem for those of us with limited window space can be the size of the dishes. It can be hard to get plants close enough to the windows.

My solution? Haworthia bowls. Haworthias species and varieties can vary greatly in appearance, making for very attractive, non-repetitive designs. The cultural requirements among the varieties are almost always compatible, requiring infrequent watering and relatively low-light (at least for succulents.) Their dormant season is usually in the high heat of summer.

Here are four of my bowls. I like to use small mineral specimens as accents.

Sansevierias, Before and After

I had planned to save this picture for a weekend "slacker" post, since it shows our two cats, Peppermint and Luke, with some plants. However, I was struck by how much the Sansevierias have grown in the three years since that picture was taken. So, since it was mild out today, I decided to take all four plants out to my front porch for some "after" shots. (All photos will open larger when clicked)

From the top: Sansevieria hargesiana, Sansevieria francisii, Sansevieria hallii, NoId Sansevieria.

Sansevieria hargesiana, three years ago, in a 6-inch pot

Sansevieria hargesiana, now

With a ruler to show current pot size

The S. hargesiana leaves are a trifle etoliated. Since it is rather unwieldy, I haven't always been able to give it a good, sunny position in the wintertime.

Sansevieria hallii has gone from one leaf to five

Sansevieria francisii, after remaining unchanged for most of the three years, sprouted an offset this summer

NoId Sansevieria, with the pot from the original picture

Eye of the Beholder

Yes, that is what is peeking out at you, here from behind the leaves.

Originally, this post started out in an entirely different way. I was planning to confess that I am a bit of a plant snob. Not the kind that avoids commonly grown plants. I love Epipremnum (pothos), Sansevierias and most Dracaenas just as much as I love the rare and the unusual. Rather, I was going to say that I’m the type of person who has high standards regarding the appearance of plants, both mine and other people’s. I was going to say that on occasion, when people on plant forums would proudly post pictures of their plants, and others would praise them, I would wonder: “That is what other people consider to be good-looking plants? Really?” Many of them seemed to me to needed pruning, or grooming, or more suitable pots, or, most commonly, a lot more light than they were getting.

Just this weekend, something happened to change that. I had an exchange with someone who has really high standards for plants, and I found myself defending, (more in my mind than in the exchange itself) the beauty found in all plants, whether they are show-worthy specimens or not. The true joy I find in plants is in growing them, tending them, learning their likes and dislikes, and feeling a connection with living things–not in producing a perfect specimen. When I look at a landscape, I see a vista of pure beauty, not the flaws of each individual plant.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not going abandon all standards and discernment. Plants should be healthy, and I love looking at exceptionally well grown show plants. I love it when one of my plants looks really healthy and pretty. I’m definitely going to hold with my opinion that getting them into more light would do a lot of people’s plants a world of good. But I am going to try to be more open and encouraging, and less snobbish in my outlook.

A plant of mine that I'm proud of: Monstera deliciosa

I’m also going to work on being more forgiving of myself when my own plants don’t live up to my standards. A couple of years ago, my husband wanted a plant for his office. We decided that a Sansevieria trifasciata would do well in his conditions, and I assumed that we would buy one. But what Bob really wanted was one of my plants, and he chose this one:

This Sansevieria trifasciata 'Laurentii' has been in Bob's office for almost two years

A view showing the plant, and Bob's artwork. Left to right: drawing of a Red-Shouldered Hawk, painting of an American Kestrel and a drawing of a Broad Winged Hawk

It is certainly not my best Sansevieria. The leaves are healthy, but the growth is kind of sparse. It’s okay, but it isn’t a plant I’m proud of, exactly. But what surprised me most is how many compliments he received from his coworkers. And the great pride he took in telling them that the plant was one of my “rejects.” Apparently other people are way ahead of me in seeing beauty in something green and living. And even more special, the love of my life thinks that I have a gift with plants, and he is proud of that.

This post has meandered a bit, and I attribute that to the rather pensive mood I’ve been in for a couple of days. (I also suspect that I’m coming down with something.) But for me writing this has been an exercise trying to discover how to combine a discerning eye with an appreciation of the imperfect here in my life among the leaves.

A bit of imperfection: Some of the ivy leaves have mite damage. I was a trifle embarrassed by that when I posted a different version of this picture last week. However, the cat wants you to know that he is, in fact, perfection itself.

Edited to add: The pictures of Bob's work plant were taken by Bob himself. Thanks, sweetheart.

Animal Life In Front of the Leaves

Here is this week's Saturday-Sunday Slacker Post. This is Laces, one of our golden retrievers, in front of my Philodendron bipinnatifidum. (There is also a Monstera deliciosa leaf visible, if you click the picture.)

Laces is thirteen years old, and very arthritic, and I absolutely adore her. I met her when I first started dating my husband 7 years ago, and she's the sweetest dog I've ever known. I know, because of her age and health problems, that I won't have her for that much longer, but right now she is still happy and full of fun. She doesn't care for the sounds my camera makes, hence the expression of canine consternation.

Blooming in the Bathtub

Yesterday, I went to check on my four tropical Hibiscus plants (Hibiscus rosa-sinensis), and I discovered to my chagrin, that my peach-flowered plant had aphids. I immediately removed them all from their spots in the window and brought them to my bathtub, where I sprayed them liberally with a soapy water solution. Even though only one showed signs of infestation, they are grouped close together, so I knew I had to treat all four. I decided to let them stay there overnight, and I would rinse them with clear water in the morning before returning them to the window.

So this morning I enter the bathroom, and I'm greeted with three out of the four in bloom:

Apparently being sprayed down with soap and being kept in total darkness for several hours is no deterrent to them putting on a cheerful show.

Here are a couple of closeups:




Interestingly enough, the orange highlights on the second flower are not visible to the naked eye, at least not my naked eyes. They only show up in photographs. In person this plant's blooms always appear to be a plain bright red.

I do have an Hibiscus with orange flowers; that is the one that didn't bloom, though it does have buds. Maybe tomorrow.

And for what it's worth, I don't find aphids as easy to eliminate as some folks say. A strong spray of water won't do it. Soap, either dish or insecticidal, works, though it usually takes repeated treatments. Occasionally, I follow-up with a systemic insecticide in the soil.

Never Again List

As of this writing, I have roughly 350 houseplants. If I could total up the number I have had in the past 30 years or so, it would probably come out to well over a thousand. I wouldn't begin to know how to quantify the number of different species I've had, since I tend to become ::cough:: obsessed with certain plants, and thus have had many duplicates. However, I do know that there are certain plants that I do not want to deal with again. These are either plants that I like that I've failed with repeatedly, or those I decided I just didn't care for after trying them out once or twice.

Here is my list of Never Again Plants:

Aphelandra: (Zebra Plant) These lose leaves at the drop of a hat, because they are fussy about watering. One fact of life here among the leaves: Though I try not to let it happen too often, everything I own will have its soil dry out more than it might like, at least once in a while. If a plant can’t handle that, I can't handle it.

Begonia rex: I just don’t know how to please them. I think they need supplemental humidity, and pebble trays just don’t do the trick. They are also prone to powdery mildew in my climate. In fact, Begonias in general are trouble for me, though I haven’t given up on the non-rexes. I think they have temperature issues I haven’t quite figured out, in addition to the humidity thing.

Calathea: (any species or variety) Another one with watering and humidity issues.

Cissus discolor: A heartbreaker. A really beautiful plant that cannot stand to dry out at all. I tried another one this year, against my better judgment. I figured a larger, more established plant might be tougher than the 4-inch pots I'd had in the past, so I bought a large one in a gallon-sized pot. It still didn't work out.

Dieffenbachia: (any variety): Though I did fail with these once or twice, I don't think their care would be too hard to master. I just don't like them well enough to try again.

Dracaena marginata: Another plant that just doesn’t move me. Plus, my cats always try to eat them.

Homalomena ‘Emerald Gem:’ Another heartbreaker. A beautiful plant whose leaves turn yellow if you look at them hard. The problem doesn’t seem to be directly traceable to watering, humidity or lighting, so I’m thinking that it just isn't suited to long-term houseplant culture. Not every tropical plant is.

Monstera obliqua (or M. adansonii, etc.): Based on its appearance, I thought it would require similar care to Epipremnum aureum, or even to M. deliciosa, but it doesn’t. Needs lots of light to maintain leaf size and perforations and is very sensitive to erratic watering.

Nematanthus: I’ve had scale insects on every single one I’ve ever owned.

Peperomia argyreia: (Watermelon Peperomia) Yet another heartbreaker. I keep them moist, they fail. I keep them a bit drier, they fail. I try to give them what they need in terms of light and humidity, they fail.

Peperomia caperata: See P. argyreia. Even more heatbreaking, since I like them better, especially the variegated ones.

Philodendron hederaceum: No good reason, really. Just not my cup of tea. Anything it can do, Epipremnum aureum (pothos) does better, in my opinion.

Sansevieria trifasciata ‘Hahnii ‘(any variety) I suppose it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. And I do love these, but from now on it will be from afar. It just hurts too much. Much more sensitive to watering issues than the taller S. trifasciatas. While overwatering will kill them quickly, moderate watering seems to kill them slowly. Every single one I’ve had has rotted, no matter how careful I am.

There are a couple of addenda to the Never Again List, which are as follows:

Addendum 1. Plants I currently own that I will go on the “never again” list if they die:


Begonia ‘Cracklin’ Rosie’: I love this plant and it does well for me. An exception to my begonia black thumb, so far. Six years and counting.

Begonia 'Cracklin' Rosie'

Hedera helix: Yes, I’m serious. I did give them up for about 10 years, before I fell back under their spell. Coming soon: a post about how that happened. But I really mean it. If for some reason I can’t keep the ones I have now going well, they will be the last ones I ever have.

Addendum 2. Plants that should be on the never again list, but I’m a sucker for them:

Alocasia: Mite magnets, need good light and more humidity than I can usually provide.

Codiaeum: (Croton) I have one now, on its last legs. Again with the spider mites! Again with the watering issues!

Selaginella: This time around they are doing okay in my terrariums. But they don’t always, and I don’t dare try them outside of one.

So there you have it. I think this still leaves me with lots of plants to try in the future. A few of those will probably end up on this list in time. And something on this list will likely end up in my collection again, despite my best intentions. Because as my mother taught me "Never say never!"

You Oughta be in Pictures--Succulent Edition

I suppose it is a bit trite at this point to say how much rosette succulents look like flowers. So I won't say it. I'll just share a few favorite pictures of some of mine, which I took outdoors late this summer: (All photos open much larger when clicked.)

Echeveria pulidonis



Aeonium 'Zwartkop'



NOID Echeveria



Echeveria agavoides cultivar

Kalanchoe luciae



Echeveria nodulosa



Another NOID Echeveria



Aloe brevifolia, colored up from the sun. More of a star shape, perhaps



Echeveria 'Lilacina', I think



Echeveria 'Black Prince'

This last plant isn't one of mine. I took the picture that follows at the Chicago Botanic Gardens in August. It wasn't in their Cactus & Succulent Greenhouse, but rather in the Sensory Garden outdoors, where they display plants with interesting textures, colors, and aromas. They had it labeled as Kalanchoe 'Warty.' When I saw it I thought, "No way. That's an Echeveria with carunculations." I did some searching at the time, and the only reference to Kalanchoe 'Warty' I could find on the web was a photograph in someone's personal online photo album, also taken at CBG. I'm thinking that it is an E. gibbiflora hybrid. Anyway, it is a very interesting plant that I had to share:

NOID Echeveria, labeled as a Kalanchoe at the Chicago Botanic Gardens

I'd welcome any input on any of the NOIDs in this post.

Edit 5/15/10: Comments for this entry have been turned off, as it seems to have become a magnet for spam.

Feel free to use the e-mail in my profile if you have relevant comments.