Mother of Thousands

 There is a type of kalanchoe I really wanted to grow, but my research indicated wouldn't be the wisest. Commonly known as "Mother of Thousands" the brylophyllum daigremontianum or kalanchoe daigremontiana (the plant has been classified under two different genera), is famous for its fecundity, which is a fun way of saying it makes lots of babies. It reproduces more than rabbits. It's worse than agave plants, though at least it isn't spiky and dangerous.

A shriveled, but still productive adult plant.

The way this weird plant reproduces is rather unique. Along its "leaves" (no more scientific jargon, let's just call them leaves) it grows tiny baby plants, making the entire plant look fringed with crochet like your grandma put on doilies.  These plants develop roots even while still attached to the "mother" plant, and fall off by gravity or with the brush of a hand.

Dead body of original plant, split into four stems. See all those fuzzy lateral roots?

I had the opportunity to grab one (literally, I stole it) that had come loose from the restaurant planter where I found it. It was tiny, and dying, its little roots exposed and dried out. I figured, "Hell, I'll treat it better than this restaurant is," which as it turns out, was a complete lie. I put it in a large pot and after a couple of years pretty much forgot about it.

That's two years of barely any water, with me only occasionally giving it a spritz or the very seldom Southern California rain giving it a bath. In that time, it grew, and grew, and grew....

Decapitated heads of adult plant. Original plant was the size of one of the trimmed heads.

 It's amazing how much it grew. It even produced lateral roots on its stems, trying to get water from anything it could. The one thing that didn't happen so much was successful reproduction. See, if you don't water it, the babies can't grow.
 
I finally decided to give it another chance. I cut off the living tops of the plant, pulling out inches and inches of dried stem. In the above photo, the four heads are resting on the soil. Technically, when beheading and re-rooting a succulent, one should let the end callus and harden before putting it near soil, but I'm staying casual about this one. What I am letting grow is all the little babies. If the adult heads stay alive, great. If not, they definitely have descendants to take their place.

So, you might be wondering, why is this plant in a pot and not in the larger succulent garden? That fecundity again (isn't that a great word)! This plant is known to take over yards with its indiscriminate reproduction, and while I have space I'd like to fill, it's way too difficult to continuously pull these guys. It's worse than regular weeding. If you know anyone with this plant, you probably have seen the effects. It creates its own forest.

Mostly the kalanchoe, but at this point clover weeds remain snuck in there until the babies mature.

El Niño has been a bit disappointment for Southern California, but just a few days of rain in the last month have re-invigorated the growth of dropped baby plants. They are free to grow, with me actually keeping the pot free of invasive weeds this time.

Freshly fallen plantlets.

There's a couple of weeds in the center, but you can see the more mature babies actually developing into plants here.

 And so, it grows. I don't even know how many little guys are alive in that pot, though I'm sure it's well over 100 plants. Probably at least twice as many. If I keep out the weeds, they should grow into lovely little plants I can fob off as gifts for people I secretly hate. Just kidding. Maybe not kidding.