Monday Macro: Hedera helix

I haven't posted about my ivies for some time, with good reason. I've downsized my collection considerably. I've found it impossible to keep spider mites at bay if I have to monitor more than five or six Hedera helix plants, so that's what I have now. Finding spider mites on a nearby Hoya, of all things, was the last straw.

Despite the trouble they've caused, I still think Hedera varieties are among the most beautiful plants that one can grow in the home. I think this is a good example:

Hedera helix 'Minty,' also known as Hedera helix 'Mint Kolibri.' This is one of the plants that I lost, and one of the few I will replace if/when I come across another one.

This photo is a little less macro than most, since it is not all that large when opened to full size. But doing so (two clicks) will reveal the beautiful pattern of the leaves.

Decline and Fall--Not Necessarily

As I've noted before, I don't put very many of my non-succulent houseplants outdoors. I try to choose plants that will do well indoors year-round, so I can always have a house full of plants. I might have mentioned this before, but one of the saddest things I've ever read on the Garden Web forums was a post by a woman who was lamenting that she had to bring her plants indoors in the fall. They had been doing so well outdoors over the summer, and she was dreading having to watch their inevitable, dramatic decline over the winter. But a major decline is not inevitable if one chooses houseplants wisely in the first place. A plant that is happy with the available indoor conditions will not need to go outside, and if it does, will not decline drastically when brought back indoors.

That said, I do put a few houseplants outdoors in summer. A couple are just out there for decorative purposes, like my Norfolk Island Pine:

Araucaria heterophylla dressing up my front porch

Others I put outside because, I admit, they are exceptions to my rules. A couple aren't well-suited to my indoor conditions, despite my best intentions, and need a rejuvenating vacation outdoors. There are also a couple of plants, which despite being okay with their places inside, are "problem" or ailing plants. For those, a bit of natural rainfall, fresh air and summertime humidity will usually turn them around.

Hedera helix, Fatsia japonica, and Dracaena reflexa 'Song of India.' The ivies and the Fatsia are outdoors because I think that fresh air and cooler night temperatures discourage spider mites. The Dracaena is just there because I like how it looks.

This Aspidistra elatior variegata was in the ailing plant category. I was perplexed by its failure to thrive, which I couldn't attribute to poor conditions or insects, so I put it under a tree and hoped for the best. It seems to be doing better.

In one of my earliest blog posts, I recounted the tale of "Foxy," my Asparagus myersii (Foxtail Fern.) Well, Foxy also spent the summer outdoors, in the hopes that it will continue to bounce back after its major pruning last fall. Maybe someday, it will regain its former size and beauty, and I'll have to start the process all over again.

Above, two pictures of Foxy, the Asparagus myersii.

Another small Asparagus that I cut back, and is now rejuvenating itself

Alpinia zerumbet variegata. I admit to abusing this poor plant this past winter, shoving it under lights in the basement, and frequently allowing it to get too dry. It has also recuperated nicely, and I've promised it a favored spot in a west window this winter, and plenty of water.

Tradescantia pallida, hanging around in my maple tree, just because. It was fine indoors, but I decided to put it out last month for its decorative value.

As autumn approaches, I will, of course, be bringing them back in. The Asparagus, Fatsia and Hedera helixes will stay out for quite some time yet, as they can handle a touch of frost. But when they do come in, I do not expect a dramatic decline from any of them.

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.

What A Difference Six Months Makes

Earlier this month, around the tenth of April, I put the remains of my Hedera helix collection out on the porch. This was well in advance of my local average last frost date (May 15.) However, since the original Hedera helix species is hardy in the ground around here, I figured that my potted cultivars could handle the light frosts we get this time of year. They are on a covered porch, and if a hard freeze was forecast, I could always bring them inside for the night.

Here is what I brought inside last October:

Seventeen happy Hedera helix cultivars

Here is what I put out this month:

Eight somewhat bedraggled Hedera helix plants, four of which I didn't even have last fall. Sigh. The Pelargonium seems much unchanged since last fall, having spent the winter blooming intermittently in my bedroom window.

I lost several plants to spider mites this winter, including some of my favorites. My success the previous winter made me overly optimistic, I guess. Those mites are the devil incarnate. In fact, they are the reason I put the plants out so early. I figured the mites would find the fresh, chilly air discouraging. (I also washed the plants with a soap/water/alcohol solution before putting them out.) Despite the setbacks, I am determined to replenish my collection.

My Heart Belongs To Hedera

Yes, I bought yet another new Hedera helix today:

Hedera helix 'Goldheart'

Previous posts chronicling my ivy obsession can be found by clicking "Hedera" in the labels following this post. I'll just say that this was a cultivar that I hadn't expected to find locally, let alone at Home Depot.

Adding to the Hedera Collection

Yes, I found two new Hedera helix cultivars to add to the collection. They were hiding among a tray full of otherwise typical-looking ivies at Home Depot. I've already dressed them up in their red pots, though those aren't really visible in these pictures.

I'm pretty sure that this is Hedera helix 'Teardrop'

Close up showing the shape of the leaves

Oddly fused leaf

Very pretty NoId cultivar with white variegation

This includes an all-white branch. Though removing such branches is usually recommended in order to improve a plant's vigor, I'm going to leave it for now. (Maybe forever. It is so pretty.)

It also has unusually-shaped leaves. Check out the double point on the bottom lobe of the leaf I'm holding. Many, but not all of the leaves have that shape.

Please click on the pictures for larger versions. It'll be worth your while. I promise.

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'

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.

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.

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.