C & E?

Many years ago, before we moved to Halifax, we thought maybe it was time to give up on the Christmas cactus for good.  It hadn't bloomed in some time, we were planning to move, and it's not a small plant; not easy to transport.  But it comes from a cutting from my great-grandmother's plant which sat in a bay window in her house and grew to fill the entire space.  It's got sentimental claims, if nothing else.  

That was the occasion  on which I learned that threats do work on houseplants.  The cactus, threatened with destruction, sent forth a stream of bright blossoms (although it was Easter, not Christmas).   It got a reprieve.  Instead of trying to move it, we entrusted it to the care of some friends.   The next time we went through Hamilton we picked up the cactus and brought it home with us.  It has bloomed reliably every year since I made those cruel threats.

It has lived up to its name, too.  It started blooming at Christmas time, and in fact put forth an absolutely dazzling display this year. 

I don't know what to make of this new blossom, but it's very pretty.   It's been coming on slowly but between yesterday

and today it's burst out into a lovely triple-barrelled display.  It's neither C nor E, so I guess this cactus has some other religious affiliation.   I wonder what it is?

And The Rest

A side effect of all this germination and so forth is that the plants which usually live inside our walls are getting a little bit more water than is normal for them.  As long as I'm making the rounds with a watering can in my hands, it is easy to toss a couple of drops their way.  We can only have plants in our house that can withstand long periods without water.  They must also be relaxed about how much actual sunshine they receive.

Oddly enough, the plant in my office gets the opposite treatment.  I get to work, look at its parched soil and think "Oh god, do I have to water you now, too?" and it gets neglected.  The plant in my office, however, flourishes without water.  It is an absolute necessity.  Any plant that shall live in my office must be able to survive for 4 weeks without any human intervention; that is the LAW.  It can be sort of sad-looking and really, really in need of attention at the end of those 4 weeks, but it has to be able to bounce back.  I've left it that long on more than one occasion.  I've also re-potted it twice since I got it (in 2004).  I suspect it will be time to re-pot it again soon.  I look forward to the day when it gets promoted from desktop plant to floor plant.  I purchased it from a grocery store floral department in a burst of positivity just as I was moving in to my office.  I liked that it claimed to enjoy "dry conditions" and I liked its name: Dragon Tree.  

At the time I got it, I thought that I would get myself a new plant every year that I was in the office.  I thought that it would be delightful to have a room filled with potted plants when I retire.  Fortunately, I sort of missed the opportune moment in the second year (I was presumably away or something) and the idea faded.  I don't think that I could find all that many nice plants that could survive the abuse that the poor old dragon tree suffers.  A forest of dragon trees would be just silly.  Or insanely obsessive.  Anyway, not really a projection of the kind of dignity I'd like to pervade my office.  

So, for now I have a dry dragon on my desk, 2 pots of philodendrons and a sentimentally significant christmas cactus.  And an outdoor garden in a state of ever-increasing readiness.