Pollenatrix

One of the most imposing

One of the most imposing plants in my grow room is a Cyperus Alternifolius, or Umbrella Plant. I've been asked by more than one person if I'm growing marijuana in my back room...and those who know something about the subject ask me why aren't I growing marijuana in my back room...but no, it's just a houseplant and to my knowledge no one has tried to smoke it. Though it might make a reasonable new-age smudge stick, but I digress. I bought this plant a few years ago at the wonderful Belgian Nursery on Hwy 7 between Kitchener and Guelph. It was about 18 inches high at the time, and it wasn't until the plant had a near-death experience that I realized it needs water. A lot of water. It's an aquatic plant, a close relative of papyrus, and is actually an invasive pest in the swamplands of Florida. Here, it's strictly a houseplant, though it does enjoy a summer vacation outdoors. Last winter, I repotted it into a large, deep ceramic planter with no drainage hole (see more about this below), and filled it to the brim until the base of the plant was under water. I placed it beside my fluorescent grow light stand in the hall, and a few weeks later, noticed a rather ripe swamp-like smell emanating from the pot. Oops. Deep pot, shallow roots, lots of standing water. Lesson learned: Mix in a generous portion of horticultural charcoal with the soil when you plant this fella to keep things smelling sweet. The plant wasn't unhappy in the hall, but not particularly happy either. Old shoots died off as quickly and new ones replaced them. They reached a height of 2 feet, but were spindly and would bend over from the weight of the leaf. I put it outside in the shade last summer, and it perked up a bit. This winter, I acquired a 1000 watt grow light, and decided to move the Umbrella Plant right under it. It woke up in a hurry. The stems fattened up, and grew to 4 feet. Now, none of the old shoots are dying off, and the plant is filling in nicely. Lately, it's been almost too much of a good thing. It is so thirsty that I have to water it at least once a day. Some of the stems have reached a height of 6 feet, and have shot right up past the light until they touch the ceiling.

Someone told me that the way to propagate this plant is to stick a leaf in the soil. About 3 weeks ago I tried it; I poked a hole in the soil with a pencil, and pushed the stem in far enough that the base of the leaves were touching the soil. I watered as usual, until the cutting was below water. Then I watched and waiting, expecting the leaf to rot. To my surprise, it worked like a charm. As you can see from the picture (or I hope you can see, tonight was not one of my stellar picture-taking nights), a number of babies are growing up through the dead leaf. Cool. Note on using ceramic pots for water gardens or fountains:  I learned the hard way -- if your ceramic pot is not glazed on all surfaces, especially the bottom, the water will seep through the porous material and ruin whatever surface it rests on. Like my hardwood floor. It's not easy find a pot like this, so here's what I did. I went to the hardware store, and bought the kind of paint you use to repaint tubs, sinks, or other kitchen appliances. I applied several coats to the inside of the pot. It works great.

Queen of the Night update:

Queen of the Night update: Four days after our first look at it, the bud has doubled in length to about 2 inches long. When I got right up close I noticed some tiny webs criss-crossing the bud -- spider mite! Crap. Time to pull out the spritzer and cook up a concotion of Neem oil and organic insecticidal soap. Personally, I kind of like the smell of Neem, though it makes Laird gag. However, it is organic, which makes the odour worth putting up with. The only early deaths I want to contribute to are the bugs'.

More about Neem

I pulled the camera out

I pulled the camera out tonight, and took a picture of the worm composter. Some recommend that holes be drilled in the bottom of plastic containers so that the liquid from the decomposing waste can drain out, preferably on to a tray and not the floor (the liquid makes a good manure tea). Otherwise, the liquid can make for uncomfortable worms in soggy bedding, and the contents can become stinky because of the anaerobic conditions. It's also suggested that air vents be drilled 2 inches up from the bottom as well as at the top, for cross-ventilation. This model has neither, though the top air vents are decorated with a cute red apple and worm.

Alas, I discover too late that a worm composter can easily be made from a Roughneck storage container for half the price. Ventilation and drainage can easily be drilled, and covered on the inside with some landscape fabric to prevent the worms from red wriggling their way to accidental freedom. Ah well, it is a pretty green, and the apple thingie IS cute. And there's no danger that I'll mistake it for a box of summer clothes, tucking it away on a shelf in a cupboard somewhere for the next six months. There, I've convinced myself it was a worthwhile investment.

I arrived home tonight to

I arrived home tonight to find a big box in front of my door. Whoopee, my worm composter arrived!!! I ordered it a few days ago from Busch Systems International in Barrie. They were so sweet -- I accidentally put the dog walker's money in the same envelope when I sent out the cheque and order form (it was morning, and I don't do mornings well). I didn't even realize what I'd done until I opened the box and found a note from "Keri" enclosing a $20 bill. That'll pay for half a pound of worms. What's with the worm composting?? It's possibly an urge for another puppy sublimated by the acquisition of ANY kind of pet. After all, I did have a dream the other night that I got pregnant, and called the baby "Spot". But that's another story. Actually, it solves two problems. It absolves me of the guilt I feel when I dump perfectly good banana peels and vegetable peels and dead plants into the garbage, and, it gives me access to compost. Compost is hard to do in an apartment, so this is an excellent alternative. Compost, and especially worm castings, are black gold. It makes plants grow like stink. It makes me look like I'm a really good gardener. It gives me about a pound's worth of new pets. I have yet to acquire said pets. I've made contact with Cathy the worm lady, who will be in Toronto on April 5th and can deliver my pound of red wriggler worms in person. She will be driving right by the Inn on the Park, where I hope to be escorting my Mom around an International Orchid Show and trying to keep my credit card in my wallet while I peruse the orchid vendor tables. Unfortunately, I haven't quite worked out the logistics of meeting up with her at this venue to officially acquire my new pound of worms. Maybe my Mom will carry them around for me. More on vermiculture Suppliers of red wriggler worms How to do worm composting Worm composting basics

Last fall my kindly Italian

Last fall my kindly Italian landlord built us a huge deck off our back mudroom. He and his elderly uncle appeared one day unannounced with tools and supplies, and started building. The weather turned cold and after I got over my astonishment that a landlord would actually volunteer to do something like this, I kept them plied with coffee and hot chocolate to try to keep them warm, keep them working. Every day they would break for lunch, huddling on the back stairs with their brown-bag lunches and bottle of home-made red wine, refusing my offers (pleas, really) to come inside and sit in the warm kitchen, at the table. They shook their heads, pointing at their dirty clothes. I shook my head in wonder at their old world manners. Highly unusual and suspicious behaviour for a landlord. Not least because he didn't jack up our rent. Today, looking out at a winter's worth of detritus on this magnificent new deck, I started laying plans for a container garden. But first, I ran a mental inventory of current conditions. In the centre lay four big bags of recyclable bottles and cans, and three bags of wet newspapers and cardboard. We missed several recycling pick-ups this winter...all of them, actually. The snow piled up, and it didn't seem worth chopping them out from under the ice. These were not the only things liberated by spring thaw. Dog poo. Yes, I confess. During those long stretches of 20 below weather, I sent Jake on to the deck and quickly closed the sliding door behind him. I couldn't face standing at the back door in my pyjamas, calling for him and waiting while he reluctantly jogged back down the lane, and climbed every ice-caked steel stair one by agonizing one. Other gifts of the spring thaw: Wet cat litter, a neat pyramid where a racoon-nibbled garbage bag broke open. An old Christmas wreath. A kiddie pool, now full of leaves and brown water. Half rotted wet leaves, everywhere. A cooler with a broken lid, set aside for its container gardening possibilities. I did say it's a large deck? It won't take long to clean. Then, the serious work of planning my garden begins. But first, I need containers....for my plants, for my plans. Containers that don't cost a fortune (after all, it IS a rental apartment), but are big enough and deep enough to grow vegetables. I turned to Garden Web for suggestions, and the container gardening forum. Jackpot!! (pardon the pun) Great ideas on how to build self-watering containers out of old buckets. Now. Where do I find free (or cheap) 5 gallon buckets???

A couple of summers ago,

A couple of summers ago, my great friend Atilla gave me a cutting of what appeared to be a green stick, and made it very clear that this was an unusual and special plant. I was a bit dubious at the time, and over the past two years I've watched this stick shoot up to become a much taller stick (5 feet!!), occasionally transforming into flattened leaf-like things along the way.  I've chopped it back several times, wondering what on earth this weird looking plant was ultimately going to do.
I've since learned it's the Queen of the Night, otherwise known as an epiphyllum oxypetalum. Saturday night past a little phallic protusion on the edge of a leaf caught my eye as I was watering my plants. A bud!! These ugly/beautiful/bizarre plants bloom rarely, and when they do, it's for one night only. The bud opens at dusk, and the magnificent scented flowers apparently fade away by morning. I don't know how long it will take for this strangely sexual little nub to emerge and do its thing. I'm thinking of throwing a "Queen of the Night" party when it does. Stay tuned for updates. A.K.A.: Queen of the Night, Night Blooming Cereus, Dutchman's Pipe Other Links: -- www.kammlott.net/Eoxypetalum.html -- www.epiphyllum.com/Epibase/epibase/species/Epiphyllum/oxypetalum.htm -- www.washjeff.edu/greenhouse/Eoxypetalum/

OK, so here's the truth.

OK, so here's the truth. I don't actually HAVE a garden.

I live on the 3rd floor of an apartment in downtown Toronto, and I make do. My garden comes equipped with a 1000watt full-spectrum light bulb, a humidifier, a fan, all tucked into a beautifully landscaped mudroom. Assorted orchids, ivy, ephiphyllums, geraniums, oddball tropicals and a giant spider plant compete for space with a couple of bikes and a cat litterbox, as well as the odd tied-off garbage bag lobbed in from the vicinity of the kitchen.

I often get lost in my miniature biosphere... especially in the morning, when I should be getting ready for work. I gaze a lot. Gaze, and send mental messages to my plants: "Grow, dammit!!!". I glare at the weaklings and reluctant bloomers, and then I point threateningly to the garbage bag on the floor. "Grow, dammit!!!". Yes, gardening does relieve stress.

 

A few orchids that have

A few orchids that have bloomed for me this winter & spring (perhaps in response to my telepathic abuse): Phal. Tapei Gold "Goldstar" x Phal. Brother Victory. A nice reliable plant. No fuss, no muss, and gorgeous blooms. It kept growing while the rest of my phals raised many objections to a summer outdoors. See if I let them outside ever again! Phalaenopsis Sonoma. I bought it in bloom last fall, and it just won`t quit. Scared of me, I bet. Zygoneria Adelaide Meadows. Smells heavenly, and a good sport. I dragged this one all the way home on an airplane from Vancouver in sub-zero February weather, then moved it to semi-hydro. The blooms stuck around for a month, unlike Hanne... Phrag. Hanne Popow. I bought this one in bud, and it gave me two pretty pink blooms. Then the darned thing called it a day. Probably needs some time to adjust after I moved it out of bark to semi-hydro. It`s putting out new growth from the base right now. Phrag. Don Wimber. Two nice branches, but having some trouble with colour break on the blooms. Some are perfect, some are twisted like an old man with a sore tooth. It`s in bark and sitting in a bit of water, but I`ll move it to semi-hydro as soon as it finishes blooming. This little fellow is a bit disconcerting at first -- the flowers pop off when they`re still pristine, just before the next bud opens. Maybe this one should be called Hanne Poppoff.

Look at it this way:

Look at it this way: I'm passionate about plants. About gardening. About getting my hands into the mud and my face streaked with dirt. How can that NOT be dangerous?