Bringing Them Back In, Again

My inaugural blog pot last October 8 was about bringing my succulents back in for the fall. Well, that time of year has returned. Once again, I'm using the system of placing my plants in trays with diatomaceous earth for a few days, to make sure that no creepy crawlies escape into my house.

Things were a little more rushed this year, as frost warnings came earlier than expected. I moved everything from the front and back yards last Saturday. There was considerable muttering under my breath while doing so. "Yeah, you really just had to buy all those new plants this summer," I scolded myself. "You know damn good and well that you have to bring them all in eventually." Not only do I have quite a few more plants, but many of my succulents were moved up a pot-size or two while outdoors, so they don't fit into the same spots as they did last winter. (And the hell of it is, the cold snap was short-lived. We have had a couple of days of above average temperatures, and there are several more to come, according to the forecast.)

Succulents have taken over my dining room...

During the move, some plants wound up in the garage instead of the living/dining room, since I didn't have enough trays available. The plan is to transfer a few plants from the dining area to their permanent positions each day, and then move a like number of plants from the garage into the prepared trays.

...And my garage. My poor husband won't be able to get his car in until these seasonal shenanigans are done with. (A few plants other than succulents can be seen, like Dracaena, Hippeastrum and Tradescantia pallida.)

My Hibiscus rosa-sinensis have already been placed in their permanent spots, as has my Araucaria heterophylla. The cold-hardy Hedera, Fatsia, Asparagus, and Aspidistra will remain outdoors for a while longer.

I keep thinking that I've got to work out new systems for both moving the plants out, and bringing them in. Every year, the sheer amount of work has me wondering why I have so many plants, anyway. Well, at least until I get everything settled, and then I go back to loving what I have, and lusting after more.

Monday Macro, Indoors and Outdoors

Last night, we had our first frost warning. I'm not sure yet if we did have an actual frost, but I wouldn't be surprised. All my cacti and succulents had made it indoors, or at least into the garage, by Saturday, as did the few leafy tropicals which were spending time outdoors. So for the next several days, there will be chaos among the leaves, while I find a place for everything, and then put everything in its place.

Meanwhile here are the Monday macros. Click once to open and a second time for full-size.

An Echeveria cultivar that might be E. 'Afterglow'

Unidentified Hemerocallis flower

I have posted both of these before in compressed form, because they are among my favorites of the plant photos I've taken. But they really are much better, and far more detailed, in their larger versions.

The Coleus Experiment, 2009-2010

One plant that I love, but have had poor luck with, is Solenostemon scutellarioides, more commonly known by its former Genus, Coleus. During my many years of living in apartments, I had trouble keeping them for the long term as houseplants, so I eventually gave up. I never stopped loving them though, so once I got married and moved to a house with a yard, I started buying them again, and even grew a few from seed. I did so every year, fully intending to enjoy them as annuals just for the season. Then every year as frost approached, I couldn’t bear to give them up, and would bring a few in. They’d go along for a short while, and then something would happen. I’d miss a watering and they would drop leaves. The winter sunlight wasn’t strong enough, and their vibrant colors faded to a distressing degree. They would begin to flower, and the plants would lose vigor. Or worst of all, they would get mealybugs.

So, I gave up on Coleus, at least as houseplants. Maybe twice in the past six years I have been able to overwinter one until it is time to put it back out. The picture below is of my greatest success thus far. I bought a small plant at an end-of-the-season sale, and managed to keep it, and a couple of cuttings from it, alive over the winter. In the spring, the cuttings were put outside, and this plant is the end result. (I believe that this was the variety ‘Freckles’, which is a PPAF plant, and thus I probably should not have propagated it. But I bought it unlabeled, and I didn’t know its identity at the time.)

Freckles: my first overwintering success

But last winter, I borrowed a book on Coleus from the library. I was captivated by the pictures and descriptions of the various cultivars, and vowed that I would try to grow them indoors again. I recalled, from many years ago, the time that I put a Coleus under fluorescent lights. Though the plant didn’t survive for various reasons, I remembered that the foliage that was close to the lights colored up very nicely. Hmm. Maybe if I put them under lights, and payed very close, loving attention to their care, I could make it work. I decided to buy some Coleus, enjoy them for the summer, then put them under lights in the fall and see what happened.

So I went shopping at a bunch of nurseries this spring. None of the shopping trips were exclusively for Coleus, (I’m not quite that single-minded) but I was definitely keeping an eye out. And I was quite disappointed. The season’s Coleus fashion seemed to be for plants in rather dull oranges, maroons, and greens, with the occasional muted rose. All of these were attractive enough taken singly, but together the colors reminded me of more bruises than of lovely, exotic plants. Where were the deep roses, the rich oranges, the yellows and vibrant chartreuses of a few years back? Not only were the named specialty cultivars disappointing, there even seemed to be less variety among the flats of ordinary seed-grown Coleus.

But I am nothing if not intrepid, and through careful picking and choosing, found several plants that I liked. They spent the summer on the porch, in front of the table of ivies, while I prepared my strategy for bringing them in.

'Tilt-A-Whirl,' one of the cultivars that I chose

I asked my husband to build a framework from which I could hang a 4-ft shoplight, which I decided would go in our bedroom. Not the greatest thing from a decor standpoint, but at least if I had to look at them every morning, I would be more likely to notice any problems immediately. Sometimes the plants I keep in the basement (where I keep my other light stands) get a trifle neglected. I don’t go down there every single day, so out of sight, out of mind. This is okay for the succulents I usually keep down there, since they rather like being left alone, but not for other types of plants.

I also bought some systemic houseplant insecticide, containing imidacloprid. I’m not crazy about using strong chemicals, and I avoid doing so when I can. But I will not abide mealybugs. I treated each of the plants as I brought them in.

The group, after I brought them in

Here they are, in place indoors under the lights.

Light stand, built for me by Bob

So this is where I am, today. I am determined. I will overwinter my coleus under lights. I will keep up with the watering. I will pinch out the flowers and pinch back the foliage for optimum growth. I (oops, I mean they) will survive!

'Florida Sun Splash' It already has more yellow than seen here, since it has been under lights.

(And I promise to ‘fess up if things don’t work out.)

Asparagus Adventure

Six years ago, I was browsing through one of the local nurseries and came upon a plant I had always wanted, Asparagus densiflorus meyersii, aka Foxtail “Fern.” I purchased it, and it grew vigorously for me. I usually placed Foxy outside in the summer, and would make it part of a container arrangement. The first year, I put it in a pot with an Iresine herbstii, and some red Impatiens. The next year it was much bigger, and I surrounded it with Dahlias. As it grew bigger I just used it by itself.

Foxy with Ivy wreath, 2008

After a certain point though, the damn thing got huge. Gorgeous, but huge. It was always a struggle to bring Foxy back inside. Last year, after being moved to a 20-inch pot, it was so heavy that we could no longer carry it upstairs to the spare bedroom. That room had the optimum conditions for it; it was bright and, more importantly, cool. (We keep the rest of the house rather warm.) So Foxy spent the winter in my living room, where it shed cladodes (the proper name for the needle-like foliage) like crazy.

So this year when I put it outside, I decided I would leave it there in the fall, and let the frost get it. (Actually, I’d have to let a hard freeze get it; Asparagus ferns are quite hardy.) I even bought a (small) replacement for it.

Foxy on Saturday, before I got started

But a freeze is forecast for tonight, and I had a change of heart. So I decided to do what I had to do to get it inside.

Tools used during this little adventure:
Big saw, little saw, trowel, fork, pruners, and dowel

First, I examined the plant and trimmed off all the dead fronds and those with bare stems at their bases. Then I placed the pot on its side, and removed as much soil as possible, using the trowel. I then plunged the fork into the pot, and rocked it back and forth as much as possible, which wasn’t much.

View of some of the unsightly fronds before pruning

First round of trimmings

I tried to get the plant out of the pot. It wouldn’t budge. Okay, Plan B. I dig around and remove more loose soil. I then attempt to move the root ball by pushing the dowel through the drainage hole. It wouldn’t budge.

Okay, Plan C. Since I planned to severely prune the root ball anyway, I ask my husband, Bob, if he has any long thin handsaws. Of course he does. Woodworking is one of his hobbies, and he has lots of tools of almost every description. He shows me the small saw pictured second from the left, above, and the wider saw. I tell him the ideal would be something as narrow as the small saw, but as long as the wider saw. He didn’t have anything like that, so I took what he had. I sawed around the inside of the pot with the small saw to get started, then used the large saw. I put the pot back on its side, and pulled. Still wouldn’t budge. I called Bob for help. I figured that I could pull on the plant, while he stood on the other side and pulled on the pot. We tried it. Still wouldn’t budge. Bob suggests that maybe we could just cut the pot apart. In addition to hand tools, he has lots of power tools, and he loves to use them. I decided that I didn’t want to do that, since it’s a fiberglass pot, and fiberglass is not a pleasant material to deal with.

So he took the handsaw and sawed around the inside of the pot again for me, getting deeper than I had before. The plant still won’t budge. I thanked Bob for his help, and he went back inside. Just then, I have a moment of inspiration born of frustration. I decide to put the pot on its side again, and bang it against the walkway. Amazingly, there is movement. I turn the pot around, and bang it again. More movement. A strong pull, and the plant is out of the pot.

Out of the pot, at last

Next chore is to saw off a large section from the bottom of the rootball. Asparagus roots are tough, I’m pretty sure they can take it.

Severed rootball. Oh the humanity! (Or plantaceaity, or something)

Original pot, plus round pot I was going to use.
It is the same size (14") as the square pot I ended up with.

The next step is to fit the plant in a new, smaller pot. I lift the plant. Too wide for the pot. I saw off some roots on the sides. Still too wide for the pot. I saw some more. At this point, if there were anything to the notion of plant perception, (link to the wonderful series by mr._subjuntive at PATSP) I would be charged with violating the Geneva convention. But it was still too wide for the pot. Also, at this point, all this manipulation had caused several of the healthy fronds to break off. I knew I would have to prune off some more top growth, to balance all the root hacking, excuse me, pruning, I was doing. I had wanted to be a bit more selective, however. C’est la vie. Finally, with a little more sawing, and some clipping, and a lot of huffing and puffing, I get the plant into its new pot.

In the new pot, ready to go inside

After all this, I hope Foxy survives my attempt to save it.

I’ll keep you posted.

A Place For Everything...

There is another reason why bringing my plants back inside causes me to question my sanity. I have to find places to put them all, relocating lots of the plants that remained indoors in the process. “But Karen715," you say. “Why not just put them all back where you had them last winter? Move both the indoor and the outdoor plants to their original spots.”

::Lowers eyes, mumbles sheepishly::

Well, you see, there is the matter of all the new plants I acquired during the spring and summer. Click the pictures for larger views.

Hoya multiflora, Hoya kerri variegata, and a variegated Hoya carnosa

Thai Aglaonemas, from left to right:
A. ‘Sethimankong,’ A. ‘Dona Carmen,’ A. ‘Siam Aurora,’ A. ‘Butterfly’ (I think)

Epipremnum aureum ‘N’Joy’

Ficus elastica variety

Sansevierias, clockwise from the left, sort of:
S. masoniana, NOID S. trifasciata cultivar, S. kirkii var kirkii, S. cylindrica.In front: S. kirkii var pulchra ‘Coppertone’

Another pic of Sansevieria kirkii var pulchra ‘Coppertone’ just because I love it

Purchased, but not pictured: Aglaonema ‘Cory,’ A. ‘Flamingo’, A. ‘Maria,' A. 'Illumination.' Also Thai Aglaonema ‘Heritage.’ Selenicereus anthonyanus, Hylocereus undulatus, a NOID Epiphyllum.

Five Hedera helix cultivars. Philodendron brandtianum. Eight Haworthias (these were divided among three dish gardens.) An orange flowered Hibiscus rosa-sinensis. A Codiaeum that is already in trouble. Portulacaria afra, one plain and one variegated. Aloe ‘Walmsley’s Blue.’ And last but not least, a NOID Sedum. There is also the possibility that I am forgetting something.

What does the kid call me again? Oh yeah, Crazy Plant Lady.

Bringing them Back In

It’s that time of year again, when I have to bring the plants that have been summering outdoors back inside. Therefore, it is also the time of year when I question my sanity. This year has been a little better than most, since I started several days before dangerously cool temperatures were forecast. I was able to bring them in over the course of a couple of days, and not in a mad dash. A mad dash to beat the frost is definitely insane when it involves bringing 150 plants inside in a matter of a couple of hours. Especially if you want to make sure that you don’t bring in a bunch of insects, too.

Hibiscus rosa-sinensis blooming during its "vacation" outdoors

For many of my plants, making sure that they are insect-free involves un-potting them and examining the root ball for hitchhikers, as well as checking leaves and stems for pests. This year, I also liberally dusted the bottom of several large trays with diatomaceous earth, and set my plants in them for a couple of days. This way anything that might crawl out of the pots won’t crawl elsewhere.

Even though 150 might seem like a large number, I’m not one of those people who empties her home of plants during the warm months. I put fewer than half of my plants outdoors. I have houseplants because I like having plants In My House. To me, putting all of them elsewhere for one-third to one-half the year defeats that purpose. I also try to buy plants that do well in my available indoor conditions, so they don’t have to go outdoors to be healthy. One of the saddest things I ever read on a plant forum was someone describing how beautiful and vigorous her plants became outdoors, and how they declined horribly over the winter. I may have a plant or two that gets a bit leggy indoors, and a few others go mostly dormant, but nothing I have does truly badly over the winter.

But I do love succulents, and they make up most of those 150 plants that I have to bring in. I have to admit that most of them do better with as much outdoor time as I can muster here in zone 5. Because of that, I’ve come to consider them as outdoor plants that I overwinter indoors, rather than houseplants. I feel the same about my tropical Hibiscus, and my Hippeastrums (Amaryllis). I will also put out any plant that might be in flagging health, (this is usually due to poor cultural practices on my part, not because it is the sort of plant that is unhappy indoors) in hopes that some time in the bright light, rain and humid air of summer might revive it. This year, my Schlumbergeras got this treatment. (Even though they are cacti, I don’t class them mentally with my succulents–I tend to think of them as tropical houseplants.)

Succulents on Trays, waiting to be put away in their permanent spots

Besides those mentioned, the selection of plants that I put outside varies from year-to-year. I put out things that I think will look pretty on my porch, and in the shade garden under my maple tree. This year, my porch was decorated with my latest obsession: Hedera helix cultivars. I have 16 of them, and they are actually still outdoors, since they can handle fairly cold weather. I also think keeping them cool as long as possible discourages spider mites. Hedera helixes rightly have a reputation as mite magnets.

Hedera helix cultivars on my front porch, yesterday.

The Hederas bring me to what will likely be a recurring theme of this blog: The other reason I question my sanity is that bringing in and rearranging plants makes me realize just how many of a certain family or genus I have accumulated. (Thirty aloes? How the hell did that happen?) The Urge to Collect--I Haz It!. I will be writing about some of the plants I collect, or have attempted to collect, and in so doing, I will try to figure out what drives that impulse.