I picked up this as yet unidentified Neoregelia last week at Lowe's. It was a reward for having finally taken care of some banking business I'd been avoiding. (I hate dealing with banks for anything more than simple deposits.) I had seen it a week or so beforehand, when I was at Lowe's for some more utilitarian reason, but failed to purchase it. Since the bank is in the same neighborhood as Lowe's, I promised myself that if I took care of business, I could buy the plant if it was still there. It was. Edited to add 04/15/10: In the comments, Mr_Subjunctive identified my plant as Neoregelia 'Ardie'
And then there is this petite beauty:
This was an eBay auction win. No rationalization for this purchase; I just saw it and wanted it, so I bid. I'm not crazy about the name, though. Lots of cultivar names are puns or other attempts at cleverness, and I'm mostly okay with that. I love wordplay of all types. But something about the use of dialect in this case rubs me the wrong way. What's next: Neoregelia 'Pass Da Salt, Yo'?
And as further proof that I was joking about saying au revoir to Aloe, here is a plant I bought earlier last week:
I love it. I've never seen an Aloe with aerial roots before. I've found that aloes can be a trifle difficult to propagate vegetatively, unlike many other succulents. These roots have the potential to make things much easier.