Huh. It seems I didn't mention my indoor Datura at all. Ever. I don't even have pictures of it, except for a tiny bit of a leaf in the background.

Well, that's all about to change right now!

At the same time I took cuttings of the recently mentioned Alternanthera dentata and Ipomoea batatas from the Mr. Yogato garden, I took Datura and Verbena cuttings. The Verbena died ignominiously. The Datura, however, trucked along, as is its wont. And now, it is flowering. In my window. Heck yeah!

I haven't found any indication that this is regularly grown indoors--it is, however, commonly used a a landscape plant here in DC. (Side note: The only reference I could find of anyone growing Datura indoors pretty much year-round is from a druggie here. Experimenting with Datura is, in my opinion, idiotic. I in no way encourage anyone to try. But the guy here mentions that his Datura was particularly prone to spider mites--gah, will I never escape their webby grasp?)

Oh gods, this was an excellent pie! Let me just preface with that. Now, on to the story!

My uberboss told me a story a week or so ago about how she walked around the back of her garden and saw a yellow summer squash (one of which she had previously shared with me and I turned into a wonderful casserole) that looked like a pumpkin instead of the normal squash shape. It was hanging from the vine between two trellises (I believe), whereas most of the other squash were laying on the ground. What makes a squash on a vine that produces more oblong, squash-shaped squash suddenly decide it wants to be a gourd?

To that, I do not have an answer, although I know that many squash and pumpkins are actually the same species (Cucurbita pepo)--but not all. But to honour the fruit's self-identification as a pumpkin, I told my uberboss (when she told me I could have it) that I would turn it into pumpkin pie. I would say I succeeded on that count! I peeled, scooped, and cut the squash into chunks, leaving half of it in the fridge (for another pie?!). The other half I boiled for a bit to soften, and then I followed the 1896 Fannie Farmer cookbook recipe for Pumpkin Pie--which says "Pumpkin Pie is made same as Squash Pie, using pumpkin in place of squash."

That, I thought, was perfect for this squash-turned-gourd! I took liberties with the recipe (I didn't have milk, so I used cream, and I didn't measure any of the spices or anything), but I followed it pretty exactly (even though it didn't say "Puree mixture in blender," y'know, that was just a modern convenience, and I was making sweet red bean paste at the same time, so the blender was already out).

I forgot about blogging for a second when the pie came out--it smelled so delicious, I was eager to dig in! But I held off for a few more seconds, just long enough to snap a photo and put the camera down before ravishing the pie. It tasted a bit pumpkiny--not overly so, like the canned pie mix, but definite pumpkin-pie taste. It was a heck of a dish. Fannie sure knew her stuff!

In Germany, that is. I was interviewed a month ago about my indoor garden for a special feature on organic food for ZDF, a German television station. I wasn’t told when it was released, but I finally e-mailed them and got a link.

After two-and-a-half minutes of peeps talkin’ in German, I show up for the last 20 seconds, spraying tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, and squash with water to prevent the spread of my little roommates, the spider mites (they’re horrid, horrid beasts, and they're still around). Those plants were soaked after all the shots they took of me doing that… And the crew was soaked through with sweat--I don’t use AC in my apartment, because the plants are on top of it. It was only 82 degreees that morning, but 70% humidity (and rising).

Despite the 20 minutes of them taping me pollinating my tomatoes with a paintbrush, the big theme of the discussion was "I haven't harvested any fruit--it has been really difficult." That was before I found that plants enjoy a little vibratory foreplay before being fertilized. Now, the cherry tomatoes and mystery pepper have some fruit, and I have hopes for Ace tomato. There are some Cherokee flowerbuds in development right now--a few should open over the next couple days, and I'll get my buzz on with them.

It was fun! I’m even wearing that same shirt today. “Wardrobe!”

I have been cutting way back on my new additions lately. Truly, I have!

Alright. I'm not that good at lying. I just spent $100 for flower bulbs for next year's Mr. Yogato garden... But... It was necessary. And I need more.

This shopping spree was spurred on by my discovery of the identity of the cute little flowers that I saw early this spring (Siberian squill, Scilla siberica). Then, while price-comparison shopping around, I found that I like a lot of "black" bulb flowers! I ordered some "Hello Darkness" irises, some "Black Lily" Fritillaria camschatcensis, and... Actually, I cannot recall. I even just called one of the places I ordered from. All I knew I bought were some Scilla siberica, but apparently I got some daylilies, irises (including "Hello Darkness"), and crocuses too. The other company... Well, I ordered the Fritillaria, and that's all I remember.

It will be a fun surprise when the bulbs come in. They ship at different times (Scilla and crocuses at end of October, irises et cetera right now), so I'm sure I will have forgotten not only what I ordered but also that I even ordered anything.

But besides bulbs for outdoor beautification, I stopped by Garden District the other week and picked up some new houseplants. I have been good about going there and not buying anything, but it's a new season, and they just got new stock. Of course.

Oh, this one? No, this is from my farmer. He had extra pepper seedlings. They are cute, are they not? These were my first vibratory pollination successes (the top one was already there, but the bottom one was all my own work!).


This is Davallia trichomanoides, brown rabbit's foot fern. I have been wanting to try a fern, never having had one before, and this one was all cute and fuzzy! I hope I do right by it. I can see huge potential for death and mayhem in our future.


After decades, I finally own a spider plant (Chlorophytum comosum variegatum, according to the tag). It needs some TLC--it was 50% off because it looked a bit ugly. As soon as I got it home, however, it started sending off a little baby!


Most of these guys you've already seen--the Episcia "Coco" on the right, the Maranta prayer plant on the left, and the tiny tip of a Streptocarpus leaf on the far left. The new, towering plant is Alocasia "Polly." I have been eyeing this for months and finally bought it. I think it needs some different friends, however--this plant grouping requires such different care, really, something is probably going to die if I keep them together.

This one is for a coworker. A few weeks ago (maybe a month and a half, two months?), I took some cuttings of some Alternanthera dentata "Purple Knight" and Ipomoea batatas ornamental sweet potato from the Mr. Yogato garden and potted them up for my windowsill. The Alternanthera has lost its pervasive purple colour, but the sweet potato has retained its hue. I'm guessing that it has something to do with the light quality, which we all know is different between morning sun through an apartment window and direct afternoon/evening sun. Alternanthera is clearly more demanding than Ipomoea.

Anyway! I also took some cuttings for my coworker to grow in some empty pots on her balcony. She told me last week that her sweet potato vines were doing wonderfully and even flowering! I may or may not have mentioned that they do this when I gave them to her (I'm pretty sure I did; they're related to morning glories, so have fairly attractive flowers). When she mentioned this, I said that even the ones on my windowsill have little flowerbuds, and she wanted me to take a picture of them for her.

So, when I went to do that this morning, I noticed that one of the flowerbuds decided it would rather be a full-fledged flower! Right on my windowsill! This is almost as good as having some of my tomatoes set fruit.

Hm. Tomatoes... Sweet potatoes... Sounds like the makings of a great soup! I wonder if the ornamental sweet potato tubers are tasty?

The only tomatoes to have set fruit are these cherry tomatoes from a seed packet I bought in Walmart on Memorial Day weekend. I planted them in early June, so it has been two and a half months--a week or two longer than the seed packet says the plants will reach maturity (which I always take to mean harvest time, but I'm not certain, really).

But, anyway, this cherry tomato plant (one of three in the same pot) decided that it would just say "Ha, heirlooms, you so slow!" and actually set fruit. It might have something to do with me using my beard trimmer instead of a paintbrush to pollinate now. Something about vibrations like bees buzzing releasing pollen... The heirlooms haven't opened any more flowers since the last batch (which failed to set fruit), so I can't test whether it's just the finickiness of the heirlooms or the methodology that led to lack of fruit-set. A few promising buds have popped up on Ace, so we will see!

2:48 Update: You can actually see some of my beard-trimmed hair sitting on the tomato vine... I didn't notice that until I looked at the larger picture! Kind of, um, interesting.

These pictures are all from two weeks ago, mostly on the weekend. The sunflowers are doing wonderfully around DC, but of course I'm focusing on the ones I put in the ground.

I feel bad, actually, because I haven't seen them in almost four days. I'm worried that the squash and fall-crop seedlings will have died... But I have been very busy lately. Too busy to go take care of the plants. I never thought that I would say that. I promise to go tomorrow during lunch!

Survivor: Guerrilla Gardening Sunflower edition! With only one left standing from my guerrilla gardening experiment, I feel some sense of success. The rest, however, are just gone. It is sad, but at least this one small trooper survived to brighten Mount Pleasant Street.


I love sleepy sunflowers of the morning! Young, cute, and slightly grumpy. "Why'd ya hafta wake me up...Nnhrrrnnn!"


After a few cups of coffee and a thunderstorm, that same sunflower (which survived two cullings!) is fully awake, if a little disheveled (and with a droopy face).


Big ol' Titan didn't stay as erect as he was upon his first showing. In fact, his head swelled so large that his thick trunk couldn't hold him upright. Some of the workers at Mr. Yogato are worried that he's going to fall and kill someone, but I have faith that my living ivy rope will keep him held up.


Evening Sun makes babies. After the first flowerhead was ripped off, little side flowers started forming. Yellow sunflowers are cool, sure--but Evening Sun is pure beauty!


Oh, yeah... These aren't sunflowers, obviously, but the gladioluses have started blooming! Only a few, not all, yet. I like this peach/pink one. It seems friendly. But it doesn't fit in with the colour scheme here. I won't know what all the colours are until the flowers bloom--it was a $3 grab bag from the dollar store near my mom's apartment in Virginia.


This yellow one is a bit more striking to me. It also doesn't fit in with what I have in store for the Mr. Yogato garden, but at least there is already some yellow there to play off of.

Does anyone else get overly worried when the annual pest-control inspection takes place? I mean, yeah, I have some flies... And worms... But I don't have leafhoppers or fungus gnats anymore, or those two-segment creepy fast-crawling thingies that were living underneath the worm bin for a while with occasional raids for the Episcia when it was living the fast-paced crazy life of being on the lip of the wooden planter box. These people only care about roaches and bedbugs, right? Yeah, I see a roach or two every few weeks--I live in DC. I shudder, I wash all the dishes again, and I move on, trying to forget. But I don't have bedbugs. Here's to hoping they leave me alone (pest control and the pests!).

Some of the local bloggers are planning a get-together here in DC--for any of you fellow gardening or food bloggers and even the readers and friends!

Check out Amelia's post at Gradually Greener--she and Mary of the Arugula Files apparently concocted this scheme together. I say kudos!

The details:

Wednesday, Sept. 2, 6 PM, at Poste Brasserie at 555 8th Street NW (close to Federal Triangle on Orange/Blue lines and Gallery Place/Chinatown on Green/Yellow/Red lines).

I have a thing for Elephant Ears. My mom's second ex-husband, while they were still just dating, had a giant specimen outside of his basement apartment. I don't think he was growing it; it just lived there, too.

So anyway, ever since I went to New York and saw some nice ones in Times Square, I have been seeing these everywhere in DC. Well, not really everywhere. Mostly western Northwest (where the rich folk live. Have you ever tried to buy Elephant Ear bulbs? They're pricey!). I live kind of smack-dab in the middle of Northwest, so I have pretty easy access to all parts!

I took this photo of a nice clump of gigantic leaves (above), but then, walking by to meet a friend for dinner, I noticed a few yellowing leaves. The effect was stunning, to me! I don't know if the plant is dying or what, but it's looking hella-pretty!

I am debating buying some of these for the Mr. Yogato garden next year. I think I would be overstretching that plot of land.

But, I could buy a gigantic tub and have an extra container garden... There's this nice shady spot, too, near the grape vines... I think it would work...!

I have had a lot of posts in the works. Nothing insanely big (well, one or two), but enough that I haven't finished any of them. So, I'll do this post on Datura first. My own Datura, conspicuous as it is, has garnered many a compliment (and only a few poison scares). These photographed on this page are only a single block from Mr. Yogato, on 18th and Church Streets, near some sunflowers that I mentioned previously. There are two varieties (maybe even different species). The first has a purple-tinged flower; the second is all white. Both have more weedy-looking leaves--they are more pointy, whereas my Datura is smooth, gently round, soft like puppies, friendly like hungry cats, as productive as mice, and as beautiful as Aphrodite, the most stunning of Greek goddesses.

End Datura mushfest. I like the purple-flowering one--I was thinking of getting some for next year. But, to be honest, I hate the leaves. It just looks too much like a prickly weed (which, actually, it kind of is--you can see a prickly fruit on the plant in the photo to the left). These don't seem nearly as cuddly as the Datura I have in front of Mr. Yogato. So, although the plant seems to have a long blooming period, the blooms open only at night and last only a few nights each. That leaves most of the time spent looking at, well, leaves. Pretty, lush, awesome leaves. Not spiky weedy leaves.

Yeah, I'm biased.

Things are taking off but are also very disappointing in my indoor jungle. I have a lot of leafy growth, but not a single mentionable harvest except for that pesto the other week. I guess the few dozen dry navy, black, and azuki beans I harvested count as well, but they weren't nearly enough for any type of cooking, so I have sowed them for another crop in the hopes that I'll get enough for a bowl of soup. They have recently germinated, so we'll see how that goes.

But, there is still activity here in my living room slash tropical rainforest. After all the initial and ongoing vegetable failures, I have been utterly surprised and enhappied by the amount of plants I am now keeping alive.

This is edamame--not Envy, because I ran out of seed and they all died. It's Renee's Garden edamame. I have a few plants that replaced the spider-mited nasturtiums--there are also beans, some chard, and one nasturtium growing in this container in the window (which still contains spider mites. I changed the soil and everything, but spider mites are here to stay.).

With the Envy soybeans, I never really even noticed the flowers; suddenly one day, I just had some bean pods. This time, the flowers are sticking around--maybe the observable flowering is related to the variety or the time of year?


Here are some of my Gesneriad buys. The Episcia is actually doing wonderfully--as James Missier noted in comments when I blogged about this purchase, the bottom two Episcia leaves did turn yellow and I plucked them off, but the promised dormancy never happened.

For the first two or three weeks, I was diligent in misting around the plant once or twice a day to maintain the required moisture levels in the air. I haven't been as diligent lately--in fact, I haven't misted in about a week, and it seems just as happy. (The temperature is, on average, anywhere from 70 to 85 Fahrenheit with a relative humidity between 50 and 65%, depending on the time of day. Outliers exist, of course. The Episcia is about eight feet from the thermo/hygrometer, so I don't know the exact measurements, but I think it would be relatively comparable.) I water every few days, to keep it damp but not wet nor dry (although I have let it dry almost all the way out twice since I got it a little over a month ago--it's in a small pot, y'know). And by water, I mean Brita-filtered tap water (I don't give DC water to any of my plants, or even to myself).

When I first bought this from the Gesneriad Society Plant Show & Sale, it had one little runner (stolon). Now, that one has two (three, really, but the third is itsy bitsy) runners of its own (at least), and the main plant has a second runner (as well as a few itsy bitsy ones). I'm thinking these are good signs.

The Nematanthus brasiliensis, on the other hand, is looking a bit droopy. It had some roots, but since I put it in soil, it hasn't been looking so hot. That's alright--I had another rooting from a leaf that is doing well with my dwarf climbing jasmine.


Another good sign? This isn't a runner or new leaves--I think my Episcia is going to flower!


Speaking of flowering, my Cherokee keeps trying. This bud is actually on my potted Cherokee experiment, from the largest pot (3 gallons? I don't really know). I guess I have alluded to my experiment before, but here is what I'm doing in more detail--I took clippings from Cherokee, rooted them, and planted five pretty equal-sized ones in different locations. (No replications, I know, sue me--I'm not trying to publish a journal article, here!) One was in an 6-inch black pot, one in an 8-inch green pot, one in a 12-inch black pot (really big, 3 gallons?), another in another 12-inch black pot along with tons of other shi...stuff, and the last in the planter box, to the left of the other tomatoes. The first three got Miracle Grow potting mix (that's all I could find at the local hardware store when I impulse-decided to do this), the fourth had a mix of soils (in other words, I don't know), and the last had garden soil ammended with leaf compost.

Of course, the one in the 3-gallon bucket is doing the bushiest and best. But biomass isn't the determining factor here--production is. Of course, Cherokee Three Gallon is winning the flowerbud race, but who knows who will set fruit? I am still waiting for Cherokee The Tall And Bushy to do so, despite having six flowers open on him previously.

I'm rooting for Ace and the cherry tomatoes--maybe they'll do something that Cherokee is too finicky to do: procreate.


So... The garlic I was so happy about before went all dead (I glossed that over in the last big garden update). Instead of sticking new cloves in the deathbox, I decided to see if a little 5-inch pot would be sufficient to grow a bulb of garlic. Well, I have some leaves, which is the first step, at least.


The roots, however, seem to need a bit more space. We'll see if it cares that it's rootbound.


Oh oh! Here's my Kalanchoe daigremontiana that I totally intentionally acquired a little over a month ago. I didn't purchase them themselves; I bought the pregnant onion with a few Mother of Thousands in them from a nearby plant. They're doing well, as you can see!


So, here's the pregnant onion on the right, and my South African squill (well, three of the six) in the middle. The Streptocarpus at the bottom is doing alright--I had an accident and dropped him (twice), hurting a leaf, so I cut it off. It's still green and not dead, so I say score 1-Indoor Garden(er), 0-Streptocarpus Grim Reaper.


Here is one of the rehabilitating "rhizomatous begonias." All the leaves fell off after I ripped up the clumps in an attempt to make certain no more slugs were tagging along. But, as you should be able to see, new ones are thinking of coming in!

All my attempts at growing mint have been pretty unspectacular. Mostly I just root cuttings, stick them in dirt with something like lemon geranium or lavender, and then they rot to death. I have had one success with the lemon geranium (about the fourth attempt actually took, but subsequent ones were horrible failures), and the plant is doing pretty well. Even outdoors at Mr. Yogato, the mint was a bit more finicky than I thought it had a right to be--about half of the original rooted cuttings died, and the remaining three clumps are really not as invasive as I had hoped they would be.

But! Luckily I have a coworker/friend and her boyfriend (they also signed up for the same CSA I have) who know what to get a plant-obsessed birthday boy! I had people over last night to celebrate my birthday, which was earlier in the week. Coworker/friend and her boyfriend brought this potted mint from their yard with the caveat "It's invasive!" I only wish it were as invasive where I'm trying to grow it!

I kept having the word "stolon" run through my head--I'm glad it was the right one! Beyond being able to root from any node and having fast growth, mint sends out these hardy shoots to spread out--you can see two stolons dangling in the back of the mint in the picture to the right. Each node of a stolon has two tiny leaves--once they root, each node will basically generate a new plant. Imagine having a lawn full of mint. Mowing it seems the worst thing to do, because each section has the potential to root and make a new plant.

But, hey--it'll be the best smelling mow-job you'll ever do!

I had one stolon from the successful mint in my lemon geranium pot; it ran slightly under the dirt and emerged on the other side of the pot, so I'm inclined to say that maybe mint stolons are the kind the try to go under soil (unlike strawberry stolons, which are aboveground), what for the ease of rooting and for complete ineffectiveness of mowing, but there are probably plenty that happen to be aboveground, too, because plants just like to mess with us.

Titan, the most-awaited sunflower in the Mr. Yogato garden, has finally bloomed! (Actually, he bloomed about two days ago, I just hadn't had my camera on me until last night at 8:15 PM, when I took this photo.) He is not the promised 13 feet, but that's lucky for me--if he blocked that sign above him, he might have had to be cut down a bit. He is about nine or ten feet tall, I think, which is still very respectable!

He also is integral to the climbing growth of the trombetta squash vine, although now parts of it are deciding to start growing up the ivy. I heart squash vines so hard.

I'm debating the use of sunflowers for next year--on the one hand, they're awesome. On the other, they're show-stealers but take their sweet-ass time and really do need a large clump to be overly impressive. Maybe I just need to plant flowering vines along with the sunflowers, so there's something blooming until the few sunflowers I've planted get aroud to showing their blooms. Hm. That sounds nice!

Sometimes, it isn't the flowers or the leaves that draw my attention to a plant--it's the insects all up on it. Sometimes I don't even notice a bug until after I look at the pictures, but then it holds a special place in my heart, because the photo is more true to life. Plants aren't just pretty things for us--they are food, homes, and the bane of many insects and other plants.

This hyacinth bean (actually some seeds of which I received from a woman back in May) does have beautiful flowers, but I don't think I'll be growing any in places I frequent.


Because in DC, right now, there are dozens of hyacinth bean vines that I have seen with these yellow aphids all over them. Icky!


While at the beach last weekend, there was a booth selling landscaping plants/services. I don't remember what plant this is, but it attracted a bunch of butterflies to it while I was browsing. I didn't end up buying anything, although I did get a few landscaping ideas.


What kind of butterfly is this? Hecks if I know. I'm pretty sure it's not a monarch butterfly--and that's about as far as I can go.


I thought this sunflower, similar to my "Evening Sun" in front of Mr. Yogato, was awesome. It's about 10 feet tall, on Park Road near my apartment. After taking the photo, I noticed a blurry bit at the top--it's a bee! Click the picture to see a larger version if you're interested.


So, not exactly a bloom or even a plant (although an argument could be made about the bloom part, maybe--it's a reproductive structure that releases spores, kind of like flowers release seeds... Kinda...), but this 'shroom was gigantic! It was about eight inches high, I think--the fly was pretty large, too. A day or two afterward, the mushrooms in this tree planter were ripped up and drying on the mulch, but they were quite a site while they were up.

Despite forcing myself not to carry my camera around to prevent what happened here, I still managed to take sneak some (what I think are) beautiful photographs in.

I have seen a lot of "weeds" (plants growing in areas where they weren't intentionally placed) around DC, and what I think is a geranium is one of the most common, although it doesn't exactly thrive. Seeing these flowers made me pause--they don't look like any Geranium flowers that I have Googled! Maybe they are just young yet, but I can't figure out what they are, except for cute.


I found this flower to be attractive, but I can't tell why. It looks kind of like a winged fairy to me. Or maybe that flying teddy bear thing, Keroberos, from Card Captor Sakura.


These mums were red-rust coloured, but the photos don't do them justice. I couldn't determine if they were more red or brown, but I found them to be interesting!


I have photographed another Cosmos recently, but this one seemed to beckon, almost reaching for the sky with arms outstretched in light-loving glory. Also, it was right near what I think are the Geraniums.


Here's a close-up of a pink Crepe Myrtle tree. We have these everywhere (I think most places do).


This is Pontederia dilatata, or "Royal Pickerel," which is native to North America. It's in the koi pond at the National Arboretum. I got to look at it while at a volunteer picnic/moonlit tour on Monday night.


This is a leaf of a pitcher plant that is near the koi pond at the National Arboretum. I love the deep purple venation offset by the pale intervenal areas. The leaves themselves almost look like crazy flowers, but really they're just death traps! If you click on the photo, a larger version will open in a new window, and you can see the fine hairs that help to prevent insects from escaping.


Here is a flower from the same pitcher plant. I find its structure to be odd, but who am I to judge Nature's creations? The colours, at least, are wonderful.


I don't know what these succulents are (there wasn't a tag that I saw), but I love how the flowers droop to form a heart shape! It's like the plant is saying "Mr. Indoor Garden(er), I heart you!"

No, no, not Mary Jane--I've had this discussion before. While walking down Ontario Street, behind Adam's Morgan and north of Dupont, I saw the most wondrous lawn full of one of the most-eaten grasses: corn! True grasses belong to the Poaceae family, as Zea mays does. I have not been much of a fan of grasses--when I owned a townhouse, I kept talking of ripping up the yard and putting rocks in, just because I hate grass. But turf grass is different from the thousands of other species of grasses out there; I may have been unnecessarily dismissive. I have been enjoying the corn that my farmer brought me last week and last night, and, y'know, wheat, rice, barley--all these things are wonderful grasses, too!

Because grasses really do do a lot of things--and seeing nontraditional grass lawns makes me smile! Growing a monoculture is difficult enough, but if you do, at least what you're growing can feed you. These stalks of corn have some promising developments on them. Just from the sidewalk, I could see a few dozen mid-sized ears of corn. And there are enough stalks that those pruning/harvesting bandits probably won't get everything, so the homeowner will get to eat the fruits of his/her labours! (By the way, a corn cob has hundred and hundreds of fruits--each kernel is a fruit! I love confusing food.)