Deadheading: SUCCESS!

Original Blog Entry on Deadheading

It took about three weeks, but the deadheading experiment was beyond successful, and let me share how:

The smaller of the two butterfly kalanchoes.

Toes!

First, the two "heads" of the pink butterfly kalanchoe I had decapitated grew nice roots and I successfully put them in the garden. Both plants are now independent and will continue to grow on their own. This was exciting enough, and you can see how well they're doing by the number of pink plantlets they've grown!

Now for the really exciting part... the "leftovers" proved regenerative as well! Every single piece of plant was growing something new!

The larger of the "head" plants.

The two bits of stem that still had "leaves" are growing tiny Audrey II's! Okay, here's what we're really seeing. Kalanchoes always grow with opposite-pair leaves. The "mouth" shape is the first two leaves of A NEW PLANT. Yup, at each of those spots a brand-new pink butterfly kalanchoe grows!

"I'm a MEAN GREEN MOTHER FROM OUTER SPACE!"

All of the new growth on the plant starts out pink!

Growers of a particular and very picky plant would probably refer to these future plants as "clones." When you reproduce a succulent with cuttings, you are creating "clones" of the original plant. Yeah, term doesn't sound as cool now, does it? Think of all the cloning you've probably done!

I'm not sure how the sticks will turn out, even the ones with roots still intact. I popped 'em all in the ground which I saturated with water. I use the shady area at the rear of my succulent patch as a sort of nursery/grow spot for delicate plants I want to put in full sun.

All plant pieces were planted, some just shoved, in the always-shady area, where they will grow, and my pink butterfly kalanchoes will takeover the garden!

You can see that the stem itself is near-death and dried out.

Pink plantlets!

The closest photo I could get with the iPhone. Those pink zits are tiny, wee baby plants.

Deadheading: It's Not As Bad As It Sounds

There comes a time in most succulent's lives where you're going to have to cut off their heads. Don't worry, it sounds a lot worse than it really is.

Grew under some portulaca, was reaching for the sun.

Most succulent plants look best without long stems. However, most succulents will grow extremely long stems the longer they are alive, which can look awkward. There are also conditions a plant may grow in which cause it to stretch when it should be dish-shaped, and dead-heading is great for these plants, too.

I used a dead stem to prop up the plant heads so they'll grow straight.

Today, I finally cut off the heads of my pink butterfly kalanchoes. This plant, which originally was one, is now three (I gave one to my mother), and the two remaining had stems nearly two feet long. The stems reached horizontally along the ground so the plants could get into the bright sunshine. Not very attractive, so, I cut them off.

The bottom of the stem is close to, but not touching the soil.

You want to use a very sharp knife, preferably as clean as possible. Once you've beheaded your plant, place it in a pot hovering JUST ABOVE some moist soil. This encourages the plant to grow roots to reach that soil. With this plant, the long "leaves" provide a prop to keep the stem from touching.

It usually takes a few weeks for the plant to grow new roots. Yes, you can just cut some heads off and stick them in the ground, but they won't necessarily root that way, and they may rot. For plants you really love, take it slow.

There's a tiny pink plantlet to the right of the pot!

The "leftovers" aren't necessarily useless, either. The rooted stem, once the head of the plant is removed, might begin growing small plantlets where leaves formerly grew, or even at the top where the "head" was removed. Since I had to cut the stem into more than one piece (it was THAT LONG), I threw them all in a pot together with the rooted bits to give them a chance to make some babies.


I don't know how this will turn out, but I'm hoping that at least the "heads" of the plants will root successfully, as they are some of my favorite. The little pink plantlets are just gorgeous, and unlike other mother-of-thousands plants, cannot grow into plants themselves.

The two rooted stems and the other cut pieces.

The Results!

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.

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.

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.