I'm a fan of plants you don't have to worry about replanting. Persicaria perfoliata (recently renamed from Polygonum perfoliata, which is the information that I was provided as a Weed Warrior), Mile-A-Minute weed, is one of my favourites, because not only is it invasive and nonnative, but it also fights back pretty effectively: It has thorns, on stems, leaves, petioles... Anywhere you'd like to get a grip, it'll poke you real good! (I would never intentionally plant this, but you have to give it some respect--it's done pretty well for itself in the few decades it has been in the area! I blame the USDA for introducing it here, even though they say "We tried really hard, but it didn't work.")

I don't remember much from my aborted attempt at being a Weed Warrior for Howard County's Middle Patuxent Environmental Area--it was an hour drive from where I live and my truck ended up dying, getting fixed, and then being sold. But I remember Mile-A-Minute (in addition to garlic mustard, which does smell yummy).

I ran across this vine a week and a half ago, when I visited Laurel. Mile-A-Minute is incredibly easy to identify--besides the thorns, invasive growth habit, and easily identified triangular leaves, at each node the plant has these little growths that encircle the stem (the Internets say they're called ocreae).

Beyond the untidiness, choking out of other plants, and potential ouchies, the plant doesn't seem like such a bad character. At least its fruits add nice, vibrant colouring to an area!

Persicaria perfoliata growing up a fence. You can see the downward-pointing thorns, the triangle-shaped leaves, the ocreae on the stem above the leaves' petioles (but side growth comes out above the ocreae), and blurry on the right are unripened fruit, with an even larger ocrea-type disk thing underneath.


More leaf detail--petioles and stems have a reddish hue, as do some of the venal areas of the leaves.


The blue ripe fruit add a nice colour contrast between the green leaves and red stems, don't you think? Seems to be edible, but the folks who say that mention nothing about the invasiveness or the thorns.

I recently signed up to track visitor statistics on SiteMeter, so it shows who visits when, how they got here, how long they stay, all that fun stuff. When Google is involved, it shows the search terms used to reach whatever post someone clicked on. The top few posts are Marigold, Not Mary Jane, for those folks who search for ways to grow pot indoors; Tomato Towers, for the people who are looking for condos to buy or for information on growing tomatoes indoors; and Am I A Good Father?, for all those parents desperately searching for answers. I kind of feel bad for those guys who are looking for help but all they find is ramblings about humidity and soil pH. But I find it incredibly interesting to see how people phrase Google search terms. So it's a toss-up.

But, that's neither here nor there. I woke up late today, so I didn't get to the farmers' market until almost 1 PM. I didn't buy much, because I had received an e-mail last night about this shopping locally "block party" going on in Silver Spring from 1 to 4, and I wanted to save my money for potential purchases there. The e-mail that Kathy Jentz, editor of the Washington Gardener magazine, sent out said that there would be plants for sale. I said, "Done, I'm there!"

And by plants for sale, she apparently meant "plants for peanuts!" I bought a 4-inch pot of "rhizomatous begonias," another begonia ("Tiger Kitty," which looks exactly like my "Little Darling." I'm trying to redeem myself), a pregnant onion plant (Ornithogalum caudatum), and a prayer plant (Maranta sp. [M. leuconeura v. erythroneura?]) for a whopping total of $7. So, the only problem with that is that plants bought from nurseries often have hitchhikers... And they are what really lead to spending the big bucks.

To start, here's something I didn't pay for--I was weeding at the arboretum yesterday, and I came across this canna lily seedling. It wasn't an eggplant, so I had to remove it. This picture is from the walk back to the metro--it now has more soil and is looking not quite dead. I hope it will be amenable to growing in my apartment, as I have no room for it at Mr. Yogato!


These rhizomatous begonias didn't originally look like this. Anyway, they were $2--I basically have almost a dozen plants from that single purchase!


This is the reason the rhizomatous begonias are in a plastic drainage tray instead of in the pot I bought them in. I saw a slug dangling on a string from one of the leaves. Gah! I removed the begonias, dumped the soil, rinsed 'em thoroughly, and re-"potted" them (see above). This is only temporary--once they get over the initial shock (and once I buy a dozen little pots and more soil), they'll be going into more semipermanent homes. And gods, I hope I can find some people to take them off my hands, too.


This Tiger Kitty looks exactly like my Little Darling (except much healthier!). I am going to bring it to the office to see if it works out--I have hope that Little Darling will survive, but just in case, I want a backup.


I couldn't pass this up. I have done so well with my South African squill that I thought I should get this, too--while reading up on my squill, I came across posts by people who said they called their squills pregnant onion, so it sparked my interest in this plant. It came already with three little babies, which I stuck in some soil in a small seed-starting pot thing. It also came with some Kalanchoe daigremontiana, from the plant sitting next to it. Those I also potted (separately!), although we'll see how separate they stay.


I absolutely adore plants with red or purple in them. I have been checking out bigger versions of these at gardening centres for a few months, but I didn't want to pay $10 or $15 for 4-inch plants. This is actually three separate plants in the same pot--when potting on, I think I will try to separate them. I love the colours of these leaves; hopefully the plants will survive my care!


If nothing else, at least this plant had a beneficial tag-along. It's blurry, but that in the middle? It's a tiny spider! (Not a spider mite, clearly--those ended up taking out the arugula tray and are going crazy with the snap peas. Gah!) I'm going to let this guy stick around--he will have some wonderful meals in my apartment!

And plants are no exception. My "Puffy Cloud" dwarf begonia seems to have reverted to something more... Well, decorative.

The one nursery I found via Google that lists "Puffy Cloud" begonias describes the plant as having dark coppery-black foliage. Mine actually kinda sorta started out that way. But the last two leaves have beautiful, tiny silver spots on them, making them look more like some sort of other angel-wing begonia.

I'm cool, either way. I'm just happy this begonia is doing so well--it is thriving in my office, especially now that I have the lamp with the grow bulbs on a timer (the newest leaf has more green, now, but it emerged during my weeklong vacation when the light wasn't on). The "Little Darling" begonia? It is not so happy in my office. It's not as amenable to frequent watering as "Puffy Cloud" is (the soil that the begonias have is very water retentive, but the other office plants have very quick-drying soil, but I water everything at the same time).

My last big update on my towering tomatoes gave a progress report on the plants' growth from purchase/germination to what was then current. The the more recent survival story from three weeks ago left us with Ace at 9 or 10 inches tall and Cherokee at 42 inches.

Wanna know what they're at right now? Do you? Ace is 31.5 inches tall, and the only reason Cherokee is 78 inches is because that's the height from the soil to the ceiling--I trim Cherokee pretty frequently so he isn't bent over all the time and to encourage flower/fruit production instead of more leafy growth. I have been keeping the cuttings in water so they'll root and I can grow more Cherokees (in different container sizes to see how they'll do--Cherokee is indeterminate and clearly a big shot, so I don't think it's generally amenable to growing in any reasonably sized container indoors, but that won't stop me from trying).

I also have a Better Boy tomato (on the off-chance that Ace wouldn't do well) that is about 16 inches tall; a tomato seedling from Bull Run, my CSA, that is 9.5 inches tall; and I have cherry tomato seedlings that I started a month ago that range from 3.5 to 5.5 inches tall.

But you know how I've been lamenting the budding but lack of flowering? Huh. I don't seem to have complained on here. Maybe I was waiting to do this post to complain about it. Anyway, I have dozens and dozens of flowerbuds on Cherokee, but none of them have opened in the past few weeks. Some dried up and fell off. It made me sad. After doing copious reading on agriculture websites, indoor gardening books, blogs, message boards, and elsewhere, I'm almost certain it has nothing to do with light or temperature or water--I think I overfertilized with nitrogen. The plant is just like "pshht, I don't need to reproduce for next year, I'm livin' high and comfy!" So the flowers never mature and eventually just go away. But I stopped watering as much (the moisture probe has been a dream!), and I added phosphorous to the tomato plants' water (not that it's really easy to individually water in that giant container).

So... Does this flower on Cherokee look like it's opening? I pried the sepals apart a bit the other day, because it's the largest flowerbud so I figured that might mean something, but now I think the petals are opening a tiny bit on their own!

I think tomorrow I'll mist with a fine spray of water (one of the suggested methods for pollinating tomato flowers indoors) because I don't have a fine paintbrush to pollinate with.

27 June Update: That was indeed a flower on the verge of opening! Zed oh my gods! It is now open and hopefully the misting technique will work, because I don't know when I'm going to find a fine paintbrush (I'm more faithful in that method than the spray-fertilization technique).

I have to admit, I think these guys are cute, in an annoying get-off-my-plants-you-creeps sort of way.

These were on my sunflowers outside of Mr. Yogato. I didn't bug them (heh!), but they did upset me. The plants are still doing excellently without my interference, so I'll just let Nature do her thing.

There were a lot more potato leafhoppers than these vibrantly coloured ones, but I left those alone as well. I'm pretty certain I saw a squash vine borer, too, on my Italian squash. I might have to go crazy, but I'll stop by again after reading up on them in Garden Insects of North America.

I do also remove any signs of leaf miners, just because it's easy and I don't want them to mess up the aesthetics. I gave a tour of the garden today to some Mr. Yogato visitors who commented approvingly about the wonderful growth while I was trimming the Datura to try and help the Leyland cyprus get some more light. It's nice to be noticed!

I was going to make a joke about the title of my previous post today, which describes Jakko pretty accurately (he of the plastic inorganic body). But Michael Jackson was a very important part of my university experience. He brought me and my close friends even closer, and he graced my computer's desktop for years (he's still the background on my desktop computer, not that I use it.).

He deserves more respect than he'll get, from me or anyone else. So here's a video of "Black or White" by Michael Jackson to listen to and watch while reading about my black and white beans!

(You have to see the part with Macaulay Culkin in it from a different version of the video to understand why the heck there's a fat guy in a chair landing in Africa. Also, I love how badly the dancers were spliced in with Jakko.) Video removed 'cause Youtube was all like "Video removed." You can rest now, Michael. Peace out.

So, this might be small for most people (who seem to be harvesting tomatoes, sugar snap peas, whole heads of lettuce, enough basil to drown Italy in pesto, and such), but it shows me that I can grow more than just baby arugula and sasquatch tomato plants in my apartment! Tonight, I harvested one pod of navy beans and one pod of black beans.


This is what all the pods looked like last week. The leaves all had some spots on them--I noticed many of what seem to be pycnidia (little fungal reproductive pores on leaves), so I was just like "ugh, whatever." When the pods started turning yellow, I almost freaked out. But I waited, because I remembered that the pods have to dry out before you can harvest them. I must say, however, that kidney beans, navy beans, and black beans just don't seem to be edible other than as dry beans--wherever I got the information that said otherwise for that bean plant profile must be crazy. I guess I could have shelled the beans and tried to use them, but the pods were just so incredibly tough I didn't try.


These six black beans will go well in a soup with cilantro, tomato, and other yummy stuff!


And these three navy beans will grace a nice potato/onion/leek/other yummy stew.

I am always impressed by plants that seem to survive against all the odds, like those lilies I bought the other week.

This story, however, is about some Rosaceae tree (apple or cherry or cherry blossom or something) growing in Malcolm X Park. I first noticed it during the winter, when it was barren. I thought it looked awesome, but dead. I was pleasantly surprised, however, when I finally stopped by it again last weekend and noticed its leafy growth.

Despite the gnarled tree's size, there is a general lack of leafiness. But, there is still life left in this beast--even the oldest and ugliest of Nature's children can shoot new growth forth eagerly in the spring!


But not only is this tree surviving (if not thriving) itself, its rotting husk plays nurturer to other plants as well!


And here's a duck bathing itself in the waterfall thing.

There is one very large bonus to gardening out of doors: beneficial insects. Having critters around to pollinate and predate is of great use to a gardener (unless they're indoors, then they're just a great nuisance!). I haven't been messing much with the bugs in the Mr. Yogato garden--the plants are extremely happy, and except for some spotting on some leaves (I blame the potato leafhopper, which I've noticed hanging around), they are looking wonderful. The only thing I'm removing are leaf miner larvae in the sunflower leaves and the Datura leaves. They come in waves, every few weeks, but they are really easy to spot. The regular removal of leaves seems only to encourage the plants to grow bigger, so I'm not complaining!

I'm also not complaining about the parasitization of these aphids, a couple of which I found on my Datura moonflower the other day. Their pale little hollow shells had circles cut out of them to allow the wasp to escape and go lay eggs inside other aphids. This, unfortunately, does not occur within my Indoor Garden--and if it did, I would hope to kill the wasps along with the aphids.

At the moment, all I have are flies and fungus gnats, with only the occasional aphid on my new attempt at turnips and radishes. Their numbers are dwindling--maybe if I keep diligent, I can keep all my pests at bay! It is not like the wild, however, where such buggers would face imminent death every moment. Death from birds, death from homeless people, death from the psychic's toddler who runs around leaving his toys in my verbena, and, of course, death from parasitic wasp larvae (my favourite death of all!).

This Saturday at the National Arboretum's Youth Garden, it rained. A lot. And it started at the exact moment that I exited the metro to begin my 2.6 mile walk to the garden.

That's alright, it was fine--I was wet, I'd get over it. I did. We were weeding, chatting, mostly weeding--I found a nice lemon mint plant (lemon balm? It looks like mint to me!) that I took home and have rooting in the pot with the spearmint and lemon geranium.

When it started lightninging and thundering, the Garden Coordinator (who runs us volunteers and deals with the kids as if he likes it) mandated that no metal object be in the field--we brought the trowels, hoes, wheelbarrows, etc. all back to the shed. I didn't think that meant we were done weeding, but after a really loud thunder and heavier rain, it did.

So, the couple of volunteers who actually showed up that day ended up hanging out in the shed. There was talk of having a pizza and some wine delivered, or maybe someone was going to bring in a stash for such occasions.

While we were all huddling in the shed (soaked through anyway, but at least we wouldn't get hit by lightning), the wild came to reclaim the human-wrought wonder that is the Youth Garden. A rampaging turtle plowed its way through pepper seedlings, over and through them to get into the tomatoes, at which point I grabbed it by the shell to move it out of the seedlings and it started scratching at me with its legs. Which reminds me, I forgot to wash my hands before eating lunch that day. Huh. Well, if I get a disease, I'll be sure to let you know.

I stopped by Malcolm X Park today. For the first day of summer, I decided to go buy some more plastic pots at Garden District. I knew there was going to be a big drum circle thing all day there, because there almost always is (apparently there was also the Sacred DC Festival there today), so I made a point to stop by for half an hour on my way downtown. There was yoga, tightrope walking, singers, dancers, drummers, kids with frisbees, ducks... All sorts of things!

So, please enjoy this video of drummers and dancers while viewing my pretty picture overload--a tribute to the spring that has passed and an excited look forward to the summer that awaits!

In no real particular order, here are some pretty flower pictures! I will only identify the ones I know; the rest, I assume most of you know. I would so greatly appreciate any identities in the comments!


Yesterday on my walk to the National Arboretum, I saw this amazing flower. It was, of course, pouring rain the entire time I was walking to and volunteering at the Youth Garden, but it doesn't diminish the cheerfulness of this... flower. Some sort of arum lily? Calla lily? What's the difference? And this one has some sort of hairdo issue going on in the background.


I was walking around today admiring yards after stopping by Malcolm X Park. The lilies in this person's yard are enormous! I swear, eight inches per flower. Every single plant grew like monsters--it's on S Street, just down the block from the Garden District's outdoor store. Coincidence?


From the same yard comes this pretty columbine. I like the combination of pink and yellow--it looks like two flowers mashed on top of one another, but it's all the same flower! I identified this flower ('cause, y'know, I don't know ornamentals) while I was taking a break waiting for the video upload to take place. I had just received my first issue of Garden Gate, a gardening magazine, and some columbine was on the second page. I think I impulse subscribed to the magazine a month or so ago; I hadn't remembered until I received the magazine in my mailbox the other day. Happy surprise!


This is a flower on my peanut plant in front of Mr. Yogato! I don't know if that's a part of the flower or a bug, that thing on the bottom left. I took this picture this evening, but I didn't notice anything on the flower until I got home. By the way, the Mr. Yogato garden is going C-R-A-Z-Y with growth.


Clematis is just so frackin' pretty. That is all.


Aw, look at these little petunias growing in a crack in the sidewalk! I went to Laurel, Maryland, on Friday to have dinner with my mother--neither of us has lived in Laurel for years and it's not remotely between us, but we often meet there for some reason.


I liked the vibrant colouring of this plant. It's in some hotel(?)'s front planter bed in Bethesda, Maryland. I noticed it while walking around after checking out the Bethesda farmers' market on Tuesday. That market was pretty small, but the people seemed nice and there was live music!


Surprise lily! It was hiding in the shadows of a potted bush--it looks almost as if the flower is floating in air.


From the same deck as the previous lily (which you can just see in the bottom left corner), this lily just looked so cool. I like the colour contrast, it looks like blood!


This lily is also from the same deck. I liked all the different varieties and how they were all grown in large terracotta pots--this is where I came upon the realization that I should grow lilies in my apartment!


I was walking around the Cleveland Park metro station area last weekend, and wonderful, colourful tree boxes caught my eye. There were a lot of these (a variety of hibiscus, maybe?), but only one was red. These plants I always think are weeds until they flower, and then I realize why people tolerate them.


There were more on the pink side--I like this particular one because the flower seems to be playing coy, hiding behind its friend and a leaf. Don't be shy, little flower!


Here is a blooming prickly pear cactus thingy. I have never actually seen these flower. I'm not a fan of prickly pear cactuses, but I can see why people have them; the flowers are pretty nice, especially en masse!


Hm, where did I find this lily? Oh, I don't know--but this photo is totally true-to-life. The lily looked almost fake, with its deep, plastic-like orange colouring. Live plant that looks fake = beautiful!


I didn't know Lantana flowers came in one colour and then slowly changed shades! These are planted in giant planters in front of my office building, and I took the photo a few weeks ago.


This delicate evening primrose was photographed last weekend. I like how the anthers (I think) are all crazy. (I was literally just about to publish this post, but I took a break because Internet Explorer crashed, y'see? So I read the latest post over at A Tidewater Garden, where I found a photo of this flower. I didn't know what it was beforehand, but it's good to know, being such a common landscape plant!)


And this one is for Erin and Jo: A Nonpurple Purple Smoke Bush! A Purple Smoke Bush of any other colour would look just as purple... Right? No? Ah. I see. I'm pretty sure it's still Cotinus coggygria, but the purple ones are different varieties than this one, clearly. Now that I've googled the species name, I realize I've seen these things everywhere growing up--it just finally popped out at me when I saw a purple variety the other week.

I think I took this photo and thought it would be good for my 100th post, but it must have been overlooked among the massive numbers of images I have in my holding folder.

But when I saw it on the train, it got me thinking. Not so much about visiting Virginia, as is its intent, but about what passions I have and where I'm going with them. When I saw these words, I immediately thought those buckets were empty plant containers and thought, "Oh, blueberries, pumpkin, and tomatoes would do well in those." Then I thought, "Wait, no... Those are for grapes for wine. Oh. They want me to go to visit the vinyards in Virginia. Pshhht."

Clearly, I equate passion with plants. The words themselves, even, aren't dissimilar (at least, they both have a P, an A, an S, and an N. So does the word "snap," as in "snap pea;" or "naps," as in "I work so hard in the garden on Saturdays that I need to take several naps to recouperate;" or "pans," as in "I need to buy a new set of nonstick pans so I can use my home-grown nasturtium flowers to make hwajeon.").

Where will my passion for plants take me? The indoor/container veggie business isn't a pipe dream. I don't know if I'll turn out an amazing profit, but I'll sell seedlings for damn sure. Lately, I have been scouring indoor gardening and container gardening books to find growing information and suggested varieties. Of course, I should have done that before starting my own garden, but that's how it goes.

Beyond that? Where will plants lead me? When I was five, my dream was to grow up to be a farmer. When I was 17, my dream was to work at the USDA and genetically engineer superior crops for farmers to grow. Neither of those plans came to fruition, but my passion is still flowing strong. I think I'm good, at the moment, just floating along with it and seeing where I end up. Maybe later, I'll try to wrestle it into submission and direct my passion to something more ordered and productive, but right now, I'm enjoying the ride.

I like squirrels. And other things, of course. But this particular squirrel was nigh fearless--it was sitting there, eating, watching me walk by, and didn't freak out until two girls walked up behind me as I was taking this video. The girls thought I was taking exterior photos of the apartment, maybe I was moving in? But nope, I just like squirrels.

I do have other interests, you know. Like pretzels. And cooking pretzels. I generally followed this recipe on AllRecipes.com, but basically, making pretzels is just like making pizza dough with a little bit of sugar thrown in. Dunk 'em in baking soda/water, sprinkle salt, and bake. Easy as pie! A lot of which I have also been baking lately, what with all the rhubarb running around.



And just for kicks, here's a full shot of the Mr. Yogato Garden from a few days ago. It's getting very full and happy, and in two or so weeks, the sunflowers will likely have bloomed. Oh yeah! The gladioluses are also coming along nicely, and the rhubarb is going wicked-crazy.

This past weekend was the whole big Pride thing here in DC, so tons of people flocked in from all over to trample up my flowers at Mr. Yogato. I did my best on Saturday during the parade (the middle of the route was right in front of Mr. Yogato) to guard the plants without being a butt about it. Only one person actually STEPPED on a plant (spearmint) and kind of kicked a gladiolus on his way out. I told him to watch where he was stepping and not to mess up the garden, and then some other guy came up and started yelling "You stole my iPhone!" When I left, they were still discussing that with a cop near the CVS.

But the plants in my garden, you really have to try to step on some of these things, because they're in a, I dunno, six-inch crack between concrete curbs, basically. Until the plants get bigger and obscure the curbs (which people think of as a sidewalk or a bench), they aren't much of a deterrent. Nor do they have thorns. Next year, they shall.

Actually, there wasn't much damage, all in all (except for the sunflower that was bent in four places between Monday night and yesterday). Not even cigarette butts. It ended up less dirty than a normal weekend has left it in a long time. But the sunflowers are getting huge, the moonflower is bushing out like crazy--I think people are starting to realize that it's not bare dirt. It takes them a while, eh?

I watched the parade by standing on top of the railing near my garden. Funny, however, all I took pictures of the entire weekend was trash and flowers. You can probably tell that the strawberries are sending out tons of runners, the peanut is starting to think about becoming bushy, the moonflower is taking over, and the ornamental sweet potato is crawling over the strawberry plants. The Leyland cyprus isn't doing so hot, but I expected it to have a longer adjustment period than the herbaceous plants--it doesn't look dead, which is all I hoped for this year.


Girl: 1

Verbena: 0

The parts of the plants that end up creeping over the concrete... I can't get too bugged about them getting stepped on. But don't people look at their feet? I mean, I always try to see what I'm sticking my foot into. There are so many dogs in the area, there's shit everywhere. I'd rather not get it on my shoes. Not everyone has that philosophy, it seems.


This girl... Oh this girl! I don't think she ever touched my plants with that bookbag of hers, but when she just plopped right down without even looking, I about had a conniption. She barely touched the plants, but still.


I planted squash! In just three days since this photo was taken, the seedling has gotten much larger. I am going to train it up the ivy.


This bloom on the moonflower is done--it never opened again, and it fell off on Sunday or Monday. But after a flower opens and closes a few times, the loose curling gives a really pretty effect which I think is even more beautiful than the new, fresh flowers.


I saw the guys putting this prop together earlier on Saturday, so it was cool to see the finished product--I didn't notice it during the parade. They used fresh-cut flowers that were superglued onto this umbrella. Can you imagine the expense?


Here's a close-up. They encouraged us passers-by to take some cut flowers (with stems) for bouquets. So I grabbed some and they're still sitting on my table here. They were clearly dyed--the water I have them sitting in is pink now.