february bloom day

I’ve just returned from a week away and haven’t had a chance to inven­tory every­thing that’s bloom­ing this month. Besides, you’ve seen a lot of it already. Here are a few snap­shots from today of what’s new or what’s changed.

Car­pen­te­ria cal­i­for­nia was look­ing great for the last two months. Now, the petals are all drop­ping, and this is as close to any­thing resem­bling a flower left on the plant.

I keep think­ing the nar­cis­sus are fin­ished bloom­ing, but I found this yel­low one bloom­ing beneath the jade plant. Bulbs–you gotta love how they’re these lit­tle sur­prise that pop up where you for­got you planted them…


This ver­bena lila­cena was bloom­ing last month, but it’s look­ing even bet­ter now.

Here’s the pale Paseo Ran­cho clone of the pre­vi­ous verbena.


Sting­ing lupine, Lupi­nus hir­sutis­simus. No, the photo isn’t upside down. For some rea­son the plant is. It started grow­ing up, and then did a U-turn and headed for the ground like an errant mis­sile. I some­how sus­pect gophers had some­thing to do with it.

Here’s an upright spike of the pre­vi­ous lupine…


Spharul­cea ambigua, desert mal­low, start­ing to bloom.

Look­ing very much like the pre­vi­ous mal­low, this is S. munroana. For some rea­son this species is sup­posed to be a bet­ter gar­den plant than the pre­vi­ous spe­ceis. In my gardne the plants are vir­tu­ally iden­ti­cal, and if any­thing the basic desert mal­low does bet­ter for me.


A seedling of a Mimu­lus auran­ti­a­cus hybrid. Its color is def­i­nitely lighter than the scar­let ones found locally.

Ranun­cu­lus californicus


Bul­binella frutescens(?)–Edit, Feb­ru­ary 25: Actu­ally, accord­ing to Oscar Clarke, it’s Bul­bine bul­bosa. Thanks for the assis­tance with the ID!

Euphor­bia lambii


Blue dicks, Dich­e­lostemma capitatum

Rose-scented gera­nium (pelargonium)


Among the edi­bles in bloom, this is rhubarb. This is my first attempt at grow­ing this plant that sup­pos­edly doesn’t like any­thing warmer than Zone 8. I’m not sure that I really like rhubarb, but I was curi­ous to see how it would do, par­tic­u­larly since my local trusty nurs­ery was sell­ing it.

Flow­ers on another plant–apricot–that likes colder cli­mates than mine. Unlike rhubarb, I know that I love apri­cots, but I really can’t grow them well. This year, maybe because Novem­ber was so insanely cold, the tree so far has a few dozen flow­ers on it. Still, I won’t count my apri­cots until they’re picked.


Astra­galus nut­tal­lii start­ing to come into its own. Some species are called locoweed, and not much more than two pounds is sup­pos­edly enough to kill an aver­age cow. Don’t think less of me when I tell you that one of the rea­sons I planted this species was to see if it might help me con­trol the gophers. I can’t say it’s done any­thing to reduce their numbers.

Not every­thing is peak­ing, of course. Here’s chalk dud­leya in bud. Check back in a month or two to see it in bloom.


Thanks as usual to Carol at May Dreams Gar­dens for host­ing this fun gar­den blog­ger meme. Take a look [ here ] at what else is bloom­ing in other gar­dens around the coun­try, around the world.

My pre­dic­tion: a lot of the colder-climate gar­den­ers will be post­ing on the Valentine’s Day flow­ers they gave or received. I hope you all had a god one. Mid­dle age has struck and I don’t look so hot in my Cupid out­fit any­more. You’ll have to set­tle for flow­ers deliv­ered this way…

February 14 2011 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 24 Comments »

colder than alaska

It’s been a cool sum­mer so far, fol­low­ing on the heels of a sunny but cool spring. I’ve been watch­ing the tem­per­a­tures in the paper for Fair­banks, Alaska, and most days the offi­cial San Diego report has been cooler. In fact it’s been cooler than almost any­where in the US except for maybe Anchor­age in Alaska. Brr.

At my July 4th party I was talk­ing to some­one there with ties to the Scripps Insti­tu­tion of Oceanog­ra­phy, and his thoughts were that this is typ­i­cal for an El Niño year. The phe­nom­e­non that the locals call “May gray” would be slow to get started (as was the case this year), and the dreaded sub­se­quent phe­nom­e­non the we call “June gloom” would drag on longer than usual. All that seems to be happening.

The gar­den natives don’t seem to be wor­ry­ing about the tem­per­a­ture as much as I’ve been. In fact the late-spring bloomers seem to be hav­ing a field day, extend­ing their bloom, look­ing nice at a time of year when they don’t always. Black sage is often done by this time, but there are a few lin­ger­ing flow­er­ing stems.

For stun­ning flow­ers, though, the black sage has passed the baton to Cleve­land sage. Here’s the com­mon and gor­geous cul­ti­var ‘Win­nifred Gilman.’

…and here’s Win­nifred in closeup…

One of local live-forevers, Dud­leya edulis, has had one of the more amaz­ing years that I can remem­ber. Here’s an 18–20 year old plant from above, all cov­ered with flow­ers. In this photo it’s sprawl­ing six feet across from one edge to the other.

The same dud­leya, viewed from ground level as it cas­cades over a short lit­tle retain­ing wall.

The San Miguel Island buck­wheat that I grew from seed two years ago, Eri­o­gonum grande var. rubescens, is finally hit­ting its stride, finally look­ing the pho­tos I’ve seen in books. Maybe the cooler weather will keep it look­ing nice longer.

Among the many non-natives that call my gar­den their home, this is Clero­den­drum ugan­dense, finally perk­ing up after look­ing like a twig until late in May. I think it’s been a some­what slow start for this plant this year, but it always waits until the weather warms to look like a plant you want to keep in the garden.

The com­mon orna­men­tal sage, Salvia ‘Hot Lips,’ is grown for its red and white bicol­ored blooms. I’ve heard that it blooms mostly with white flow­ers when weather turns cold. In the left photo these are the only two red and white flow­ers I could find on three plants. The rest of the flow­ers are white. In the depths of win­ter, how­ever, this plant is often com­pletely bicol­ored, so I’m not sure if there’s any truth to this color change rumor.

Some of the plants that I worry about the most are my Amer­i­can pitcher plants, these Sar­race­nia from the South, where the daily low tem­per­a­tures these days are often run­ning ten degrees above the San Diego day­time highs. For­tu­nately these plants seem to respond more to daylength than to tem­per­a­ture, and the plants look pretty good. Still, they might be taller by now where they originate.

Cool as the days may be, one thing told me for sure that I do not live remotely near Alaska. Mon­day night was the grand open­ing of the first giant bloom of this climb­ing cac­tus, prob­a­bly Hylo­cereus unda­tus. Even if it’s prob­a­bly been slow get­ting started this year, it’s prob­a­bly the best proof that I’m over­re­act­ing. Hardy to not much below freez­ing, one hit of arc­tic cold and you’ll freeze this plant’s tuchas off.

At eight to ten inches across, the only shy thing about this plant is that it only opens as dark­ness approaches. Peo­ple in cold climes covet being able to grow plants like this–or in fact many of our more ten­der Cal­i­for­nia natives.

That’s def­i­nite proof, Dorothy. We don’t live in Alaska. It just might feel that way these cool sum­mer days.

July 07 2010 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 13 Comments »

gbbd: the garden and beyond

mission-trails-lotus-scoparius-with-dichelostemma-capitatum

mission-trails-fortuna-peak-boulders

It’s spring, all right. The gar­den con­tin­ues to bloom away man­i­cally, but the out­door places around town have been no slouch, either, when it comes to flowers.

This Gar­den Blogger’s Bloom Day, hosted by May Dreams Gar­dens, fea­tures a gallery of some blooms from the gar­den mixed in with blooms from Mis­sion Trails Regional Park in San Diego.

In the top photo from Mis­sion Trails you can see that the yellow-flowered deer­weed, Lotus sco­par­ius, has col­o­nized many of the sunny areas that burned four and a half years ago. As the land­scape recov­ers, other plants will come in and stake their claims. The sec­ond image from near the top of For­tuna Peak shows that other areas are also recov­er­ing from the fires, though slower than far­ther downslope.

You can hover over each image below for its name, or click it to see a larger photo. While you can prob­a­bly tell what’s a wild plant and what’s in the gar­den, there’s an answer key at the end if you’re into quizzing your­self. (A few of thee are tricky in that they’re local native plants that have been incor­po­rated into the gar­den.)

Answers:
Wild, gar­den, gar­den;
gar­den, wild, wild;
wild, gar­den wild;
gar­den, gar­den, gar­den;
gar­den, wild, gar­den;
wild, gar­den, wild;
wild, wild, wild.

April 15 2009 | Categories: gardeninglandscape | Tags: | 5 Comments »

gbbd february blooms

May Dreams Gar­dens has been host­ing the Gar­den Blogger’s Bloom Day for a while now. This is my first go at it, with a big sam­pling of what’s bloom­ing in the back yard gar­den right now. Sev­eral of the shots are of the same plant, so it might seem like there’s more in bloom than might first appear: When life gives you fewer flow­ers, you look at each one closer!

In the pho­tos above are:

  • Ranun­cu­lus Tecolote (white)
  • Oxalis pur­purea (white form)
  • Oxalis, ran­dom self-sown hybrid
  • Salvia nemerosa ‘Snow Hills’
  • Aly­sum that has self-sown from a plant­ing 15 or more years ago. The orig­i­nals were white and pur­ple. The new ones come all-white, or mix­tures of white and purple
  • African daisy (arc­to­tis hybrids)
  • Blue-eyed grass (Sisy­rinchium bel­lum)
  • Solanum pyra­can­thum
  • Ces­trum fas­ci­c­u­la­tum ‘Newellii’
  • Mother of thou­sands (Kalan­choe dai­gre­mon­tiana)
  • Pro­tea Pink Ice
  • Melam­podium Derby
  • Aeo­nium species
  • Your basic calla lily (Zant­edeschia aethiopica)
  • Euphor­bia lam­bii, in bud
  • Euphor­bia chara­cias subsp. wulfenii
  • Mizuna, escaped from a veg­etable gar­den plant­ing 10+ years ago
  • Alpine straw­berry
  • Hopi red dye amaranth
  • Heliotrope
  • Bird of paradise
  • Epi­den­drum orchids (red, orange)

I have a few cool Cal­i­for­nia natives begin­ning to flower in the front yard, and I’ll post more of them soon.

February 15 2009 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 15 Comments »

peak february bloom

The storm was pass­ing, and the after­noon light was per­fect. The suc­cu­lents bloom­ing in the front yard never looked bet­ter. I had to get the cam­era for this one!

february-succulents-in-full-bloom

In bloom are Aloe arborescens (orange-red) and a cras­sula species or rel­a­tive (yel­low). To the right, not in bloom but still dra­matic, are two clones of a tree aloe (Aloe bar­berae). The low filler plant to the right is the Cal­i­for­nia native coy­ote bush (Bac­cha­ris pilu­laris pilu­laris ‘Pigeon Point’). I don’t nor­mally love the neighbor’s big pointy juniper in the back­ground, but I think it com­pletes this pic­ture nicely.

February 08 2009 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 6 Comments »

balboa park’s desert garden

Jan­u­ary can be an amaz­ing month for suc­cu­lents and other desert plants. Many aloes and agaves explode into bloom, and plants with ephemeral foliage are green with leaves in ways you don’t often see them.

balboa-park-succulent-bloom-overviewSan Diego’s Bal­boa Park houses one of the prime local col­lec­tion of cacti, suc­cu­lents and other desert dwellers from around the world. The Desert Gar­den, the larger of its two suc­cu­lent gar­dens, was estab­lished in 1976, but many of the plants are senior cit­i­zens much older than the age of the garden.

balboa-park-succulent-blooming-aloe-4

balboa-park-succulent-blooming-aloe-3

Aloes star in its Jan­u­ary land­scape, with red and orange torches of flow­ers that dou­ble as hum­ming­bird magnets.

balboa-park-succulent-blooming-aloe-2balboa-park-succulent-blooming-aloe

And shown here, lurk­ing in the shad­ows, is one of the local hum­ming­birds, stak­ing its territory.

balboa-park-succulent-silhouette-of-bird

balboa-park-succulent-dracaeno-draco-two-trees

Among the big, mature spec­i­mens are sev­eral dragon trees, Dra­caena draco. In this first photo, on the near trunk, you can see a red­dish patch where the plant’s red sap has dried. When cut, these plants ooze a fluid that in some Euro­pean leg­ends was pur­ported to be dragon’s blood, hence the plant’s name (draco = dragon).

balboa-park-succulent-dracaeno-draco-looking-up

balboa-park-succulent-dracaeno-draco-from-afar

This is a pub­lic gar­den, and so it’s sub­ject to fund­ing glitches and bat­tles over civic pri­or­i­ties. I’d con­sider the gar­den to be in great con­di­tion con­sid­er­ing those limitations.

One thing I would have loved to have seen, though, would be more plant labels. I encoun­tered so many inter­est­ing species, but very few of them had name tags. I have this thing about need­ing to know the name of a plant–Call me com­pul­sive. But the lack of labels drove me crazy. I real­ize, how­ever, that tags don’t come cheap. And in a wide-open pub­lic gar­den, labels can walk away with pieces of suc­cu­lents in the hands of evil plant addicts.

balboa-park-succulent-greyia-sutherlandii

One of the plants that was labeled was this Natal Bot­tle­brush, Greyia suther­landii. A bit scrappy-looking as a plant, but what great flowers!

balboa-park-succulent-alluaudia-procera
Also labeled was the Mada­gas­car ocotillo, Allu­au­dia pro­cera. I loved the spi­ral pat­tern­ing of its spines.

Another prob­lem with this being a pub­lic gar­den is that there are quite a few spec­i­mens where people’s temp­ta­tions to carve their ini­tials in the plant life got the bet­ter of them. This euphor­bia was scarred many times over. But that wasn’t going to stop it from blooming.

balboa-park-succulent-euphorbia-closeup

balboa-park-succulent-euphorbia-group

After vis­it­ing the gar­den I was sur­prised by how many shots I’d racked up in the cam­era. And for some rea­son, the major­ity of them were ver­ti­cals. Is there some­thing about succulents–particularly the upright-growing kinds that mimic the way a human stands–that scream out for pho­tograph­ing them in an upright orientation?

balboa-park-succulent-spent-yucca-stalks

Some yuc­cas, I think, with spent bloom stems.

balboa-park-succulent-boojum

Boo­jum trees, Fouquieria colum­naris, native to Baja Cal­i­for­nia. This plant is in the same genus as the Cal­i­for­nia desert’s spec­tac­u­lar ocotillo, which inter­est­ingly isn’t related to the Madas­car ocotillo, above.

balboa-park-succulent-bloom-overview-3

Aloes and kalan­choes in bloom.

balboa-park-succulent-looking-towards-florida-canyonThe main gar­den is a flat, easy stroll over wide decom­posed gran­ite path­ways. As part of a recent expan­sion, the gar­den now also includes this switch­back down into Florida Canyon, also part of Bal­boa Park. The plants along the descent are still young, but should look spec­tac­u­lar in a decade or so.

Not every­one in the world loves cac­tus and suc­cu­lents. They might point to the defen­sive spines many of the plants have, and they might say the sculp­tural shapes of the plants don’t look soft and cozy like leafy shrubs or fra­grant roses. balboa-park-succulent-spiny-rosesNext to the Desert Gar­den is Bal­boa Park’s rose gar­den. Dur­ing spring­time, thirty sec­onds of walk­ing would take you from the world of cac­tus and suc­cu­lents to a gar­den manic with flow­ers and heavy with the aroma of roses. But on this bright Jan­u­ary day, the adja­cent roses were pruned down to naked stems and pierc­ing thorns. It was the cac­tus and suc­cu­lents that looked warm and welcoming.

The Desert Gar­den is located across Park Boule­vard from the Nat­ural His­tory Museum on Bal­boa Park’s museum row. The gar­den has no walls, no entry fee, and is open 24/7, 365 days of the year.

If the 2.5 acres of the Desert Gar­den isn’t enough of a cac­tus and suc­cu­lent fix, cross Park Boule­vard and take a stroll over to the Bal­boa Park Club, maybe ten min­utes on foot, and take in the parks orig­i­nal 1935 cac­tus gar­den, which, accord­ing to the park’s web­site, was estab­lished “under the direc­tion of [San Diego gar­den­ing leg­end] Kate Ses­sions for the 1935 Cal­i­for­nia Pacific Inter­na­tional Expo­si­tion.” There you’ll find “some of the largest cac­tus and suc­cu­lent spec­i­mens in the Park,” along with a nice col­lec­tion of proteas.

January 11 2009 | Categories: gardeningphotographyplacesplant profiles | Tags: | 3 Comments »

my new year’s plant

If there’s a plant that says New Year’s Day to me, it’s the com­mon jade plant, Cras­sula ovata. The rea­son why is a lit­tle embar­rass­ing, and I’m trust­ing you not to tell any­one else.

Grow­ing up, my fam­ily would spend the morn­ing of New Year’s Day gath­ered around the tele­vi­sion set­ting, watch­ing the Rose Parade. Over­taken by mis­guided jags of inspi­ra­tion, I’d make my own lit­tle parade floats out of lit­tle card­board boxes and what­ever flow­ers were available.

jadeflowers

My fam­ily lived in the same val­ley as Pasadena, though inland a few miles. The two loca­tions essen­tially shared the same cli­mate pro­file, some­thing around Zone 9B. Don’t believe the pro­pa­ganda about the Pasadena area hav­ing gar­gan­tuan fields of roses bloom­ing every­where in Jan­u­ary. Yes, you’ll find roses, but not in the same num­ber as other flowers.

Instead, at my par­ents’, the plant that was depend­ably cov­ered with flow­ers on New Year’s was the jade plant. They had a cou­ple plants in the back yard that were about as tall as I was, and they sup­plied more than enough lit­tle starry white flow­ers to com­pletely cover my artis­tic creations.

jadeplant

Now, all grown up, I have a jade in the front yard. This year, with the bizarrely warm fall we had, the plant was con­fused and started bloom­ing in Novem­ber. Here’s how it looked yes­ter­day. Not totally cov­ered in flow­ers, but with plenty of flow­ers to go around–unless some­one needs to build a major float.

So, with that photo, let me wish you a happy New Year’s! May 2009 bring you piles of flow­ers and inter­est­ing plants and good times with peo­ple who care deeply for you!

January 01 2009 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 7 Comments »

monday floral quiz

Here’s a lit­tle help­ing of some of what was bloom­ing in the gar­den today.

I wanted to have a lit­tle more fun with the pic­tures than show­ing you a slideshow of the gar­den. Only the first one, Camel­lia sasan­qua ‘Cleopa­tra’ with an atten­dant ant, is a basic straight­for­ward shot. The rest are cropped and then col­laged together. See if you can guess what every­thing is.

There’s an answer key at the end.

Camellia sasanqua 'Cleopatra'

Camel­lia sasanqua

Monday florals 2

Mon­day flo­rals 2

Monday florals 1

Mon­day flo­rals 1

Monday Florals 3

Mon­day Flo­rals 3

Monday Florals 4

Mon­day Flo­rals 4



The answers (top to bot­tom, left to right):

    Camel­lia sasan­qua ‘Cleopa­tra’
    Paper­white nar­cis­sus
    Alyssum
    Plec­tran­thus ver­ti­cil­la­tus (Creep­ing Char­lie) flow­ers
    Epi­den­drum hybrid, red
    Solanum pyra­can­thum
    Thai basil blooms
    Straw­berry blos­som
    Melam­podium Derby (vol­un­teer from last sea­son)
    Epi­den­drum hybrid, orange
    Salvia micro­phylla ‘Hot Lips’
    Ces­trum ele­gans
    Gail­lar­dia pul­chella (Blan­ket flower)
    Salvia nemorosa ‘Snow Hills’
    Rotheca myri­coides ‘Ugan­dense’ (But­ter­fly bush)
    Heliotrope
    Zin­nia vol­un­teer from 2007 sea­son, finally show­ing itself
    Salvia cacali­ae­fo­lia (Ivy-leaved sage) with cater­pil­lar
    Stre­litzia regi­nae (Bird of par­adise) from below
    Salvia sagit­tata (Arrow-leaved sage)
    Oxalis pur­purea

November 10 2008 | Categories: gardeningmy gardenphotography | Tags: | 1 Comment »

what elephants eat

Polit­i­cally I’m fairly far afield from the Repub­li­can party, but I’m think­ing that one of my plants must be a card-carrying mem­ber. Por­tu­lacaria afra marked the open­ing of the Repub­li­can National Con­ven­tion a cou­ple weeks ago by qui­etly com­ing into bloom.

Flowers of Portulacaria afra

Flow­ers of Por­tu­lacaria afra

So what’s the con­nec­tion between the Repub­li­cans and this plant? Ele­phants.

In its native habi­tat this plant can be good for­age for ele­phants. (And I’m sure you know that the ele­phant is the sym­bol of the Repub­li­can Party.) Accord­ing to a treat­ment on this species by Robert J. Baran, 80% of the diet of ele­phants in South Africa’s Addo National Park con­sists of this plant. Hence one of its com­mon names, “ele­phant bush.”

Out­doors in San Diego the plant is ridicu­lously easy to grow. Full sun, occa­sional sum­mer water (ca. every 2–4 weeks) and well-drained soil are all it asks. If you want more of the plant, break off a chunk and set it some dirt. Instant new plant.

Its flow­er­ings are rare here, how­ever, and it’s easy to miss the lit­tle pink puffs of smoke that hover over the plant for a cou­ple weeks.

Portulacaria plant

Por­tu­lacaria plant

The plant in the pic­ture is maybe ten years in the ground in this spot, and is about four feet tall. Some reports say it’ll get three times this size, but you can eas­ily break off any chunks that offend you. So far so good in this loca­tion. And in pots it’s much more con­strained. (The ugly fence in the back­ground and its trans­for­ma­tion into some­thing much more fab­u­lous will be the sub­ject of an upcom­ing post…)

The plant report­edly also does well indoors in colder cli­mates. Its easy-growing nature has caused a lot of peo­ple to call it as a vari­ant of the clas­sic beginner’s jade plant (Cras­sula ovata). But aside from the cur­sory sim­i­lar­i­ties the plants are in com­pletely dif­fer­ent fam­i­lies. If you’ve been lucky enough to live where it’s warm enough to see them both bloom you’ll def­i­nitely believe that their rela­tion­ship is pretty far apart.

Mealy­bugs haven’t been an issue with this plant for me out­doors, but they seem to be an occa­sional prob­lem when it’s grown indoors in bright sun. Shade-grown, over-watered suc­cu­lents seem to attract the crit­ters. Try a brighter spot, and cut down on the water­ing if the lit­tle beast­ies are a problem.

Over­all, this is a happy plant that eas­ily crosses party lines. But you might want to keep it out of sight when the ele­phants come to loll about in your koi pond.

September 17 2008 | Categories: gardeningmy gardenplant profiles | Tags: | 1 Comment »

my favorite yucky flower

One of my favorite weird plants has bloomed for the first time this year. For much of the year Stapelia gigan­tea grows low to the ground, form­ing a dense suc­cu­lent mat about eight inches tall. But in the sum­mer and fall it perks up and pro­duces these amaz­ing flowers.

Stapelia gigantea with my hand for scale

Stapelia gigan­tea with my hand for scale

The pro­por­tion of the size of the flower to the size of the plant almost reminds you of alpine plants, where the flow­ers start to dwarf the plants they grow on. (Pro­por­tion­ally, imag­ine a rose bush four feet tall pro­duc­ing a rose four feet across…)

Stapelia gigantea showing furry petals

Stapelia gigan­tea show­ing furry petals

The flow­ers are a pale cream-to-icy-green color, with dark rose squig­gly lines run­ning all over them. And the flow­ers are cov­ered with fur.

Center of Stapelia gigantea

Cen­ter of Stapelia gigantea

I could stare into the spi­ral vor­tex of lines at the cen­ter of one of these flow­ers for hours…

And did I men­tion that if you stick your nose into the flower the aroma might remind you of ham­burger left in an unplugged refrig­er­a­tor for a cou­ple days? Although the cam­era scared them away, you can imag­ine that flies find this the most irre­sistible flower. It’s no sur­prise that one of its com­mon names is “car­rion flower.”

The genus Stapelia has other stinky flow­ers, though most with the excep­tion of S. gran­di­flora have much smaller flow­ers. A num­ber of closerly related gen­era in the Stapeliae tribe also have stinky but amaz­ingly intri­cate and beau­ti­ful flow­ers. Hoodia gor­donii, the plant that has become pop­u­lar as an appetite sup­pres­sant, also belongs to this same group of plants.

Grow­ing Stapelia gigan­tea is easy–actually, too easy in Hawaii and Aus­tralia, where it’s con­sid­ered a weed. Basi­cally give it bright light (it might not bloom in shade), pro­tect it from freez­ing, and sup­ply it with light to mod­er­ate water. (It tol­er­ates not being watered for two or three weeks, thanks to its suc­cu­lent stems, but it’s hap­pi­est with some mois­ture.) Mine is grow­ing well in a shal­low clay pot about eigh­teen inches in diam­e­ter, in reg­u­lar pot­ting soil.

If you or some­one you know has a young­ster attracted to crawl­ing, scary bugs, turn them on to this plant. They’ll be a gar­dener for life.

September 07 2008 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 10 Comments »

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