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.

Mother of Thousands: The Saga Continues

There was one patch of soil on my property that hadn't been cultivated. This was a strange rectangular piece at the top of the driveway. It often strikes me that my property has way too much space for plants and not enough space for the actual house itself. I also had the job of potting the mother of thousands tubiflora plant I had been given and ignorantly put into the actual ground.

I put about twelve plants in a smaller pot inside my house, these are the rest of the offspring.

The first job was to plant the remaining mother of thousands baby plants into a pot that coordinated a little more with the house. I stuffed all of the plants into a large blue pot, and I'm already thinking I should have just dragged the huge, white pot they were in out to the front and kept them there. This pot won't be large enough for very long. The bright-green plants will turn the same beige and pink shade as the other plant.

The tubiflora version has already grown much larger than I anticipated and will need a larger pot.

Second, I uprooted the tubiflora and planted it in another dark blue pot I had. This plant has already grown enough so that I can easily see I'm going to have to put it in a much larger pot. Sigh. Oh well, at least I've moved it from the direct soil.

Now at the top of the drive I have two baby agave marginitas and two pots of slightly-different mother of thousands plants. The passion-flower that covers the wall, as you can see, is actually a very small part of the entire plot, and I have one more area to put an agave or another similarly large succulent. Since I have extra ground cover from the planters in back, I'm going to cover the soil with with it. Since I also have extra lining from putting rocks down, I think I'll prep for weeds by laying that down first.

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!