What, You Were Expecting Poinsettias?

Ha, ha! The title was our little holiday joke. No, of course, these are not poinsettias. These are flowers from a floribunda rose called "Paul Ecke, Jr." However, there is a poinsettia connection.

Paul Ecke, Sr. was the guy who first got the notion, back in the 1920s, to cultivate and hybridize a wild, winter-blooming plant from Mexico. Paul Ecke, Jr. later took over the family business and got the notion to market the plant in association with the Christmas holiday. The Paul Ecke Ranch is still the primary producer of poinsettias. More information on the history of their operation is available on the Ranch's web site.

Back to the little floribunda: the scentless flowers are striking in that the centers are a glowing orange-red color which darkens to red at the edges of the petals. This specimen is a bit leggy, but we hope to correct that when we begin pruning next month.

Reminder: bareroot season is upon us and, depending on your local weather conditions, pruning season is imminent.

Good gardening to all, and to all a good night!




P.S. to Gene: Our garden is a damned jungle, which is why we never post wide angle shots. ;-)

She's No Lily

Fortnight Lily aka Butterfly Iris aka African Iris. Possibly Dietes iridioides; more likely Dietes grandiflora.

Who Loves Ya, Baby? [Updated 8-30-07]

Apologies to our fan(s) for the long wait. We had the best of intentions to update this post ages ago with information on the rose pictured. The internet is usually quite helpful in searches for pesky details we don't bother to memorize or occasionally fail to record -- in this instance, class name -- but not this time.

This is a hybrid tea rose called Tuxedo. Our personal characterization of the color is "deep, velvet red." The petals are dark red and have a velvety sheen which does not come across in a photograph. This would be our top pick for the title Perfect Rose, but (alas, alas) it has no scent. When grown in full sun, the petals tend to stay partially furled, giving the flower a compact, multi-pointed star appearance. In partial shade, the petals relax and open more fully.

So, what's the big mystery? We searched and searched, both online and in our own rose encyclopedias and guides, but nowhere was this rose mentioned. This evening, however, we at long last got a hit. The hybridizer who bred it, Jack E. Christensen, mentions it on his web page. It turns out that this rose variety is no longer sold. (Pity.) If anybody else is growing it, they're not talking about it on the 'net.

Keep It Gay!

Here's a birthday dedication to GRT. In his honor, we post an entire page of purples, but this one takes the [birthday] cake.

This is a passion vine (passiflora) of a variety called "Whirligig." With multiple shades of purple and the squiggly-ended filaments radiating from the center, this is just about the gayest flower we've ever seen. And we mean that in a good way. Enjoy!

Cape Angels

Lilac Time

The Princess Flower

Name That Bromeliad [Updated 2-14-08]

No joke. If you recognize this Bromeliad variety, please ring in and let us know what it is. A family member acquired the unlabeled parent plant from a seller at the old Farmer's Market in Los Angeles and was kind enough to gift us with a couple of "pups" when the parent outgrew its pot.

The plant has large, strappy, floppy leaves edged with spines. A spike, tipped with a multitude of the long-lasting, dark purple flowers pictured, develops once per year. The flowers ooze a clear sap beloved by ants.

Know what it's called? Please enlighten us all.

Enigmatic Purple

Fans of this blog know we have it bad for red - love it, love it, love it! Occasionally, though, we have a little fling on the side with purple. Purple is red's enigmatic cousin. Is he straight? Is he gay? (We like to think he's bi.) Who cares? Whether you like it dark and broody or lighthearted and lavender, purple has you covered.

Here's a plant that combines both. Tradescantia pallida purpurea aka Setcreasea pallida 'Purple Heart.' Dark purple foliage; light purple flowers. Stems are very tender and susceptible to breakage, but stick any broken off bits in a pot of planting mix and they root very easily. Voila! More plants!

Lemon Flowers

Too Soon for Daffydills?

A reader comments that his daffodils are in bloom and asks if this is early. For most parts of the country, it is nowhere near spring, so blooms in February would be considered early (if not impossible).

However, here in California, where conditions tend to defy the official seasonal calendar, the answer is: it depends. First, it depends upon the weather, which just recently has ranged from bitterly cold and dry to cool and briefly wet, and then on to hot and sunny. So, it's no surprise if some plants think spring has sprung.

Next, it depends on the bulb. Even among narcissi, each variety has its own timetable. For example, our paperwhites bloomed a month ago or so and are now done. The daffodils are just starting to bud and flower. Yet another variety--a mini daffodil--has sprouted but shows no sign of buds yet.

Our advice: enjoy the preview of spring while it lasts.

Accidental Art

We've taken a bit of chaff from our small-but-feisty fan base [hi, GRT!] for the long intervals between posts. Yes, we could post more if mediocre photos (we have hundreds) with little or no commentary would do, but where's the fun in that?

Recently, a friend from work [hi, Kate!] advised that she had shown this blog to another friend [hi, Kate's friend!] who also gardens and photographs flowers. We basked momentarily in their compliments, and then hastened to state that there is no skill involved here and the results displayed are entirely accidental. Although we are not too sure about that business concerning the monkey given a typewriter eventually writing Hamlet, we know from personal experience that any fool with enough patience and a digital camera tricked out with a good macro lens will eventually take a decent picture.

This is what we do. We take a lot of pictures from different angles and distances, unload them from the camera onto the computer, then look them over and hope for at least one good shot. The advent of digital has meant we are more often satisfied than disappointed with the results. Occasionally, however, we are surprised. Which brings us to this shot.






This is a flower from Arabian Jasmine (Jasminum sambac), a rambling vine. The flowers are quite small--a bit bigger than a pencil eraser--but produce an intense scent which just manages to stay on the good side of that fine line between fragrant and stinky.

This is a "lucky shot." Art by accident, not design. The only skill involved was in picking this one picture from a group of others.

Nevertheless, we are very proud of it.