Kalanchoe Blooms and Rebirth

The first plant is the tall stalk, the second is the recognizable fang plant next to it.

There is a type of kalanchoe that if it isn't, at least should be rather popular. Known colloquially as a "fang plant" or even "lambs ear" it features very large, spade-shaped leaves covered with soft fuzz and having curious pointy bumps on the outer surface. It's a fantastic plant, and the one I have has been through a lot, even a beheading and re-rooting. After about three years with  me, it decided to bloom. While it's amazing to have your succulents bloom, the succulents like kalanchoes and aeoniums that have the longest-lasting blooms also perish after blooming. Their flowers are their swan song.

Fresh blooms from about a month and a half ago.

Tall enough to be a super model.

The bloom (technically called an inflorescence) on my fang plant reaches almost six feet in height, which is astounding. It's a collection of symmetrical stalks with clusters of flowers at the ends. The radial symmetry is really quite... mathematical, as Finn and Jake would say.

Two separate plant bodies mean one survives.

This is my second kalanchoe to bloom. My first, which was tall, red, and gorgeous, bloomed all at once, which meant that I had to remove the entire plant (a rather large one) when it died soon after. My good luck in this case is that the fang plant had grown an offshoot which became it's own plant, and so even though this particular plant will die, the now-separated twin plant survives.

The plant loses nearly all leaves, leaving these strange gaps in its body.

Baby plant growing on the left side where a leaf formerly grew.

I'm extra-lucky in this case, as the fang plant generously decided to grow some baby plants on the flowering stalks. This happens with many succulents, but I haven't seen it on a kalanchoe before. At areas where a large leaf formerly grew, and on "crotches" where stems separate, the fang plant has grown little fuzzy green baby plants I will be able to pop off and root!

This is great, because I love this plant, and now I'll be able to spread it around the garden! It does pretty well with full sun (not all succulents do), and it will be nice to have some more of these fun and fuzzy plants.

Babies growing in crotches

Babies growing on the flower stalk where small leaves had grown and died.

The bloom/inflorescence today. Many flowers have died, some are still buds.

The large stem is the remains of the original plant's bloom.

For a little more context, I have some pictures of a different sort of kalanchoe my mother gave me. This particular plant bloomed and died, leaving an offshoot still attached to the dead flower stem, which I will need to remove with clippers. You can see the tall, dead stem next to the tiny left-over living plant. I left the stem on when I planted it in the ground as it gave me a very easy "handle" to move the plant with.

I haven't had this type of kalanchoe before, so it will be interesting to see what it grows into. I'm guessing that as I've planted it in full sun, it will be a nice red color, a guess supported by the red of the dead inflorescence.

Now that it's securely in the ground I can cut the dead stem down, if not completely off.

Yog Sothoth Flowers and Spreads

My once-tiny purchase off of Ebay is now so huge it's falling apart under its own weight! It's been an amazing haven for snails, which I've harvested for the turtles that now live in my backyard. Today I pulled bits off and moved them to other parts of the garden to fill in space by becoming monsters themselves.

It's blooming!

It's also started blooming! It hasn't bloomed in the years I've had it, just grown and grown and grown. This type of succulent doesn't die after blooming, it's rather like what most people call a "jade plant."

If I'm lucky there will be half a dozen giant mutant plants in my succulent collection, glorifying and frightening my front yard! I'm guessing these plants are an acquired taste, but I've always been a fan of the strange and bizarre.

First flowers ever!

The stems grow in twists or fan-shapes.

The plant, weighed down, grows roots that anchor it to the ground.

Here, a section of more "normal" plant grows long stems weaving through other plants.

A crest that became too heavy to stay up. Now it will be a new plant.

Another heavy crest, this one will hopefully perk up a bit once it roots.

A third crest, similar to the first. I think of this shape as blades.

One of the original cuttings, now a little fan on its own.

The oldest original cutting has grown to be over a foot tall and going on two feet wide.

Mother-of-Thousands Part II, the Mistake.

Whoops. It had no plantlets when it was given to me. It seemed so harmless, but it would appear that my kalanchoe tubiflora is just as feculent as it's more common, mother-of-thousands cousin. Hopefully this version, called a chandelier plant, will have less plantlets simply because they grow on the tips of the "leaves" instead of along the sides of the entire.

I didn't even bother looking it up before planting it among the other succulents in the large front garden. It seems a shame to move it, and now I'm committed to having one of these propagating things in the ground. Maybe it'll be okay. Perhaps it's better to have to deal with offshoots than regular grassy weeds.

There are still alternatives if you want a mother-of-thousands but don't want to deal with plantlets growing around it. The pink butterfly kalanchoe produces beautiful pink plantlets that aren't actually plantlets. They don't grow on their own, and the plant itself can only be reproduced through cuttings. It's one of my favorites, and if you can find it, I highly recommend adding it to your succulent garden for its pop of pink color. After searching for one for a few years I was pleasantly surprised to find them in stock at my local Home Depot a couple of seasons ago, so it IS possible to get hold of.

Get Yourself Some Gloves!

There is nothing fulfilling about squishing your hands through dirt and scratchy plants, and then coming inside from your gardening day with crescents of black under your fingernails and dirty wounds on your hands. Unless, of course, you're into that sort of thing. If you're like me, and at the very least have tired of nail brushes, gardening gloves are for you.

There are different types of gloves, from the cheap ones you can pick up at the Dollar Tree or Daiso, to expansive and expensive leather gloves from "fine retailers." It really comes down to what you garden and HOW you garden.

My three-year-old rose gloves with their holy fingers.

 I bought rose gloves with gauntlets in 2013 to protect my hands and lower arms when gardening my succulents (yes, they came in handy with the couple of rose bushes I have, too). When trimming an agave, or when doing ANYTHING with a euphorbia, the long gauntlet pieces are invaluable for protecting skin from serious thorn damage and sap burns. After three years (which is pretty impressive, considering how I treated them) my rose gloves were a mess and had little holes at the fingertips.

It was black crescent nails all over again, so I did some research and looked at my gardening habits before purchasing new gloves. I ended up with:

The elegant lady's choice...

1) A brand-new pair of my favorite rose gloves. Really, the leather gauntlets are amazing, there's great flexibility in the fingers, and they were quite a reasonable price at Amazon.

You can pretend you're Wolverine! Well... sort of.

2) A pair of rather ugly "Honey Badger" gardening gloves which only make me feel slightly like Freddy Krueger. Why the ugly? They come in a plethora of colors, but of course, I went for the cheapest ones. You have the option of choosing either hand for the "claws" or even both hands, but I went with the left as I'm right-handed. They were a fantastic choice and will ensure the life of my precious gauntlet gloves by doing the dirt-related stuff the gauntlets weren't meant for.

The plastic claws on the gloves are PERFECT for digging into the dirt. I've been using them while upgrading my backyard planter in preparation for some hand-me-down box turtles I'm receiving next week. I can easily pull the ground cover back from the actual soil in order to plant new plants, or to install the water and feeding dishes.

Depending on my purpose, I will wear either set of gloves. For above-the-dirt work, like trimming or staking plants, or snail-hunting for my future turtles, the rose gauntlets. For weeding and planting, the badger gloves. Gloves are great no matter what you use, but from experience I recommend buying leather or plastic, as woven-fabric gloves leave tiny holes for dangerous sap to sink in through.

Plumeria Dormancy - No, Your Plant's Not Dead!

 

There are so many varieties of succulent plants that it's often a surprise to learn that a plant IS a succulent. At least, that was my reaction on finally learning that the plumeria, native to Hawaii and beloved of gardeners in temperate through tropic zones, is, of course, a succulent plant.

It should have been obvious. The plumeria has thick, fleshy stems that hold large amounts of water. It can be propagated rather easily through cuttings (all the plumerias I own are the result of cuttings bought in Hawaii back in 1997). Of COURSE it's a succulent, which is an excellent excuse for me to write a blog entry on one of the strangest issues one deals with when it comes to the plumeria.

Black, shriveled baby leaves are a sign of dormancy.

I thought I had killed my plumerias when they all dropped their leaves and seemed unable to grow new ones, but as it turns out I hadn't. Plumerias go through a period of dormancy in most climates, and in Southern California this dormancy period is roughly the whole of winter. For at least four-five months, the plants will not grow new leaves, and in fact, any little leaves that begin to grow will turn into shriveled black wastes that drop off at a touch.

To double-check for dormancy, brush or dig away dirt at the base of the plant. A woody, tough, and dry stem indicates the plant is keeping new water out, and is an indication to stop watering it.

What do you do when this happens? NOTHING! Don't do anything, except perhaps sweep up those shed adult leaves. When your plumeria goes dormant, you STOP WATERING. You can easily kill your plant during its dormancy by watering it. Just STOP. Leave the plant alone, but keep an eye on it as winter turns into spring.

My most mature plumeria is still dormant.

Not all plumeria plants, even those in the same location, will come out of dormancy at the same time. I've noticed that in the case of the three small trees I own, the least-developed seem to come out of dormancy faster than the larger, more mature trees. If you have a drip system like I do, the easiest thing is to divert the hose that leads to the still-dormant plant, then simply replace it next to the tree once it starts growing leaves again.

My second-oldest plumeria seems to be giving me a very immature gesture.

When the plant begins to grow leaves that stay alive, and more importantly, mature into true leaves, you can return to watering. So, it's really very simple. When your plumeria drops all of its leaves, stop watering. Months later, when it starts to grow them again, go back to watering. In the California drought I haven't had to worry about extra rainfalls overwhelming dormant plans with water, but if you live in an area with constant rainfall, you might want to do what neighbors of mine have done and keep your plumerias in pots on wheeled bases.

My youngest plumeria was the first to start making leaves again.

If you want to plant your plumeria in the ground, I say go for it. A neighbor from my childhood still has a giant plumeria that has been in the ground for about forty years. It's absolutely huge and has survived several rainy seasons. Also, remember, Hawaii, where the plants come from, stays moist all year round (and thus plants there have a shorter dormancy period).

So, don't fret. You aren't a plant murderer! Your amazing tropical succulents have just "gone to sleep" for a bit, like hibernating mammals. When the weather warms up, keep your eye on them for new leaves and resume watering. It's that simple.

Succulents, Snails, and Slugs; A Safe Solution

In intrepid snail (or snails) climbed nearly five feet of brown stem to eat these leaves!

 A bane of succulent gardeners, and in fact, gardeners in general, is the (locally) common brown snail and the slimy slug. These little mollusks (yes, they're in the same category as some of your favorite seafood) absolutely adore juicy succulent plants, and will go to extreme lengths to munch on their plump leaves.

Crested crassula (Son of Yog Sothoth), I have several of these taken from the giant parent plant.

The plants I find most often devastated by these garden pests are my thicker-leaved aeoniums and my crested crassulas. It's very obvious that the large, flat expanses of stems and branches of the crested (or monstrose) plants make an easy path to the copious leaves, and the aeoniums are either accessible by climbing their stems, or in the case of some plants, are right there on ground level for easy access.

There is a very simple and safe way to deter snails and slugs from climbing and eating your plants. Simply by mashing up eggshells into small pieces and scattering them around the bases of affected plants, you can keep the slimy beasties from even nearing your plants. The eggshell pieces are sharp and piercing, quite uncomfortable to delicate mollusk skin. I've ever dusted the plant itself with the pieces.

Making snail and slug deterrent.

It's quite easy to make this eggshell snail deterrent. I have a mortar and pestle, but eggshells are easily smashed in a variety of ways. First, after using the egg itself, wait for the shell to dry. Once the shell is dry, smash it into pieces about 1-3 mm in diameter. If you do grind shells with a mortar and pestle, you will wind up with sandy particles to larger particles. Just don't let the shell pieces be longer than a few millimeters.

I store the smashed shells in a jar in my kitchen, and take them outside to sprinkle liberally as needed. They are safe and beneficial to the soil, and are biodegradable. This is an excellent way of keeping poisons out of your garden!

Euphorbias: Don't Get Euphoric over the Acidic

Euphorbia genus succulents are very popular these days, with the simple, orange variety known colloquially as "sticks of fire" being used in drought-friendly landscaping for shopping centers and restaurants. The plants grow quite easily, and are beautiful in their orange variety, though they also have a green variety that looks exactly the same except for the color. The plants grow extremely easily and thrive in drought conditions (or when "stressed" by denying them regular water).

Sticks of Fire, not "stressed" enough for full orange color.

Another form of euphorbia you might have seen is known as "crown of thorns" in what one can only assume is a reference to Jesus Christ (yes, it is, no assumption necessary). This plant is known for its incredibly thorny stems and the tiny flowers that bloom at the ends in a variety of colors.

I have one of these, bought by my brother, and for safety's sake I planted it in an area where it's unlikely to be stepped on or accidentally brushed by the hand. It's even hard to photograph my plant because I have surrounded it with "safety" succulents that are safe to touch. The thorns are vicious, but the real viciousness of all euphorbia plants is what's inside of them.

Best picture I could get of my Crown of Thorns.

The sap bleeds out wherever the plant is broken.

Euphorbia plants contain a milky sap that might remind you of the liquid inside milkweed. Unlike milkweed, the euphorbia sap is extremely painful to come into contact with, not just causing itching, but actually able to burn the skin.

Most succulent plants break easily, and the green and orange thorn-less varieties of euphorbia are no exception. A slight bit of pressure can cause a split in the skin where the sap will well up just like a cut in animal skin. The branches snap extremely easily, and gloves with protective gauntlets should be worn whenever working with this plant.

If the sap touches skin, the effect isn't immediate. The sap flows rather copiously, and is sticky. It will dry on skin sort of like white glue does. Unlike that lovely school glue, this stuff will burn where it touches.

I suffered for your benefit, but only a little bit.

I dabbed a tiny bit on my hand so I could add a little demonstration for this blog entry. I received some pretty bad burns a few weeks ago when staking the green euphorbia to a piece of rebar, but they've healed since then, so I gave myself a little injury for your benefit.

The sap I put on my skin was from a previously-broken stem that was drying out, so there was less sap than would appear if the plant was freshly broken. After about a minute, I washed the skin, and then scratched it with my fingernail. That's where those shreds of skin came from. The sap will burn through layers of skin, and you will notice because it is nearly impossible NOT to scratch at the itchy and painful areas it touches.

I only had the old sap on my skin for a minute, and it only stripped a bit of skin and left a bit of redness. I've had burns that have stripped more than just one layer of cells, and the skin itself is red and once healed is an obviously lighter shade than the uninjured skin surrounding it. Now, about forty five minutes later, the area on my hand still itches and burns.

Where I staked the plant and managed to burn myself even with gauntlet gloves.

Why this blog entry? With the proliferation of this plant in public places, I get increasingly worried about children and pets (and even adults) injuring themselves by "playing" with this plant. No matter how interesting those carroty-colored stems look, DO NOT TOUCH! It is very easy to get sap on you, rub it off (which really doesn't work, you need to use soap and water), and later find your skin shedding a bit like a heavy sunburn.

If you DO come in contact with the sap of this plant, DO wash thoroughly with soap and water as soon as possible. Even spitting on the area and rubbing it off immediately is better than nothing (if you or a child is injured away from sanitation facilities). As in my demonstration photo, skin will still be injured, and it will be irritated, but the effects will be much less severe than letting the sap stay on the skin.

If you desire to grow any of these plants yourself, be smart about it. My neighbors have several VERY LARGE crown of thorns euphorbias in front of their house, and I keep myself and my dogs away. The thorns themselves are scary enough. As for the thorn-less varieties, do not plant them in areas that are accessible to children and pets. It's just asking for trouble. My euphorbia plants are in an area of the bed that is near the back and not touch-accessible to people looking at the patch of succulents. Don't want the neighbor's kids catching their balls in my yard and falling on these plants!

Edited 4/3/16 to add:

Euphorbia sap burns

Two days ago I did some heavy work on the euphorbias, re-tying them and cutting off excess stems. I did not wear long sleeves, and my gauntlet gloves end just before the elbow. These three burns are from sap that stayed put on my skin for the duration of the gardening work; about twenty minutes max. You can see the middle one is my inner elbow, and the largest is on my upper arm. I also burned my face a bit, and my legs because I was silly enough to be wearing shorts. BE CAREFUL!!! Don't be like me!

Aeonium Flowering and Windy Conditions

The brief thunderstorm we had the other morning was followed by some heavy winds, which are hell on arboreal aeoniums (aeoniums that are tree-like). Succulents tend to have very shallow roots, and while most plants have extensive root systems that anchor them in place, most succulent plants are quite easy to remove from the soil.

The replanted aeonium, now tied to old rebar and an iron sculpture.

The wind blew over the latest blooming stem on my oldest succulent, and I was nervous of it enough to immediately go out front to fix it, without putting on my gloves. ALWAYS PUT ON YOUR GLOVES! In my case, I was forced to improvise a stake for it, and while I had a good, steady item to tie the plant stem to, it was rough on my hands.

My first instinct, having no tall wooden stakes, was to use a second piece of rebar to stake this plant (I had used the first of the two leftovers to stake the large green euphorbia next to the aeonium). I shoved the rebar in as deep as I could, but it wasn't enough to keep the plant upright and steady.

Garden decor to the rescue! My brother went through a period of iron sculpture, and I am the proud owner of a couple of his pieces. One of our favorites, the Tree, is in the front yard. It's gotten magnificently rusted in the weather, and its structure allowed for me to rest the aeonium against a sort of crotch formed at the top of the sculpture.

This is where I should have worn my gloves. Rough, rusty iron. Bare hands. I'm lucky this was all I got:

Now, saving this plant may seem silly, because if you've read my other post on aeoniums, you will already know that if the plant is flowering, it is going to die afterward. Darn it, though, I've had this guy going in various offshoots for eight years, and I'm proud of the five foot tall plant! Besides, it has an offshoot I want to keep on the main plant as long as possible.

 You can see where the offshoot has grown lateral roots at its base. Hopefully, when the larger plant passes away, it will be easy to break off and simply plant on its own with roots already grown. If you look at the picture at the top, though, you'll see the stem is shaped like a horseshoe, so it's likely I will have to chop half of it off to end up with one straight stem.

Why is this titled in reference to flowering? Another one of my aeoniums is in the process! One of my ground-level plants that surrounds the feature agave is blooming! This patch of aeoniums started as a few small plants and a larger plant, which grew, and grew, and produced offshoots, etc...

I've just never had one of my newer guys bloom before! It would appear that aeoniums need perhaps at least four or five years of growth before they bloom and die. Since I only have one plant blooming, it is unlikely that the blossoms will be fertilized and produce viable seeds, same with the arboreal aeonium.

So, as far as propagation, your best bet is to hope for offshoots. This is standard for nearly all succulent plants. It's much easier to create new plants through offshoots and cuttings than by collecting and planting seeds. The good news is that in the time it takes for your aeonium to mature and flower (then die), it will likely produce many offshoots which can be separated into individual plants.

An offshoot of my first blooming aeonium. Just ONE leaf marred by snail nibbles. Grr.

A closer view of the offshoot. This type of aeonium is known as "cyclops" because of the "eye" pattern.

This little guy is an amazing survivor of the snails and has gotten sturdy enough to be transplanted to the foreground.