The Variegated Thumb

A while back (a year, two years?) I was given some seeds for Sweet Autumn Clematis (Clematis ternifolia).  I don’t really remember what I did with them, but my guess is that I must have either planted a couple or scattered them somewhere around here:

Sweet Autumn Clematis (Clematis ternifolia)

I didn’t really realize until a couple of days ago that I had a new Clematis growing on our front porch ironwork.  When the buds formed I realized this was not one of our normal Clematis, which bloom in the early summer and have large purple blooms.  This was something different with small white blooms.  Then they started opening and I thought that it looked very familiar.  I still had the name “Sweet Autumn Clematis” in my head, and when I looked it up, it was a perfect match.

Clematis ternifolia bloom closeup

It struck me the other day that the “sweet” part of the name probably meant something, too, so I pulled some of the blooms down to nose level and gave them a sniff.  I was surprised to smell something kind of nutmeg-like to me.  I had Christie smell them and she thought they smelled like Root Beer.  Now that there are more flowers in bloom the smell is quite clear on our front porch, without sticking your nose into them.  It’s fun to have this early Autumn bloomer to complement our other Clematis which finished blooming a couple months back already.

Last year I bought an Oleander for really cheap at the end of the summer season.  It had finished blooming for the year, so I didn’t know what color it would be, but it was covered in long brown seed pods, which was a nice bonus.

The seed pods stayed on the plant for several months and then finally burst open in the middle of the winter, while the plant was in my greenhouse.  Since there wasn’t much air circulation in the greenhouse I was able to gather all the seeds and keep them from planting themselves in every pot.  That was a good thing, since there were thousands of seeds.  Based on my past experience with seeds, I assumed I probably wouldn’t have much luck growing Oleanders from seed – especially after I read some information on the internet.

Oleander seeds

I gave some of the seeds to my sister to give to her friend who has a greenhouse and grows plants from seed.  After my sister told me that her friend had sprouted seedlings, I decided to try my hand.  Just about a week after planting my seeds I started to see some results.  Turns out the complicated directions on the internet weren’t necessary.  I just stuck the seeds in a pot and slightly covered them with soil and watered.

My Oleander seedlings

I’ve kept my seedlings alive and healthy, but they haven’t been growing very fast.  My sister brought me some of the seedlings her friend grew and they are quite a bit more mature than mine.

My Oleander seedlings alongside the mature seedlings

In the mean time, this summer my parent plant bloomed again (the first time for me), in spite of the mealies that have been plaguing it.  Now I know that my plant has pink blooms.

Oleander bloom

Oleanders will always remind me of Rome, where there were some beautiful large bushes growing right in front of the Colosseum.

Oleanders blooming in front of the Colosseum in Rome on our 2007 trip to Italy. It really just doesn't get any better than this.

My mother-in-law has a knack for growing very large plants.  I should qualify that statement by explaining that she does not grow large plants, but grows plants large.  In other words, plants in her care tend to grow much larger than their “normal” size.

Geranium bloom head

One such example is her ordinary Geranium that is about 8 feet tall.  Yes, an ordinary Geranium.

An ordinary Geranium of extraordinary height.

I believe the key ingredient here is lots of light year-round.  This Geranium produced some behavior recently that I had never noticed before.  The blooms were actually pollinated and produced seed pods.  I don’t know whether this is common for Geraniums to do in Oklahoma and I have just never paid attention enough to notice, or if this is somewhat rare.  Anyway, I do have some seeds from this mammoth plant that I might try to germinate soon.

A Geranium flower head with spikes protruding from seed pods.

She also has a corn plant (Dracaena fragrans) which is of unusual height.  It grows in the 2 story foyer to their house and is likely 18 feet tall.  This plant has a good history, including at least one suspected period of death, from which it valiantly arose like a phoenix.  Even recently it went through a spell of poor health, but has been sprouting anew, after the top was lopped off.

My sister works for a non-profit outreach program here in town.  On Friday we went to a fund-raising dinner and trivia tournament for her group and my sister’s boss (Lynn), who also has a greenhouse, brought me a gift.

Ying Yang Beans from the Phaseolus vulgaris 'Calypso' plant

These are Ying-Yang beans (Phaseolus vulgaris ‘Calypso’).  Lynn was given some Ying-Yang beans when she got her greenhouse and she grew them into plants, which flowered and produced about 10 beans.  She is now passing three of them on to me for good luck.

They are really cool beans.  When she handed them to me I almost felt like I was being invited on a snipe hunt.  I thought, “Oh, this must be the mild hazing that all new greenhouse owners endure.  Surely these beans were painted by someone.”  But they’re not painted; they are authentically half white and black with little dots even.  And as far as I can tell, this is nothing like the fruitless snipe hunts.

These beans grow into small bushes that produce white flowers and eventually some little pods of similarly colored black and white beans that look like ying-yangs.  (see here) These beans have also been called “Anasazi beans” since they are believed to have been a crop of the Anasazi native Americans.  They can be cooked and eaten much like any other bean.  However, as far as I understand, the beans turn solid black when cooked.

I hope to be able to grow some beans of my own and maybe pass them onto to a fellow new greenhouse owner.

My mom purchased two double-flowering Angel Trumpet plants this last Spring and gave the yellow one to me to raise, while she kept the purple.  Each of our plants has produced between 5 and 10 blooms this Summer and seed pods have followed.

Seed pod and blooms on my yellow Datura. Notice how spikey it is.

Originally I was thinking that these Angel Trumpet plants were from the Brugmansia genus, but after looking into how the seeds should be germinated, I realized that our seed pods match the genus Datura.  As far as I can tell, Brugmansias have long seed pods that look like green beans.  Surprisingly the seed pods from my mom’s purple plant and my yellow plant have very different textures, but neither are bean-like pods.  Mine are spikey little balls that look like the “gumballs” produced by Sweet Gum trees.  My mom’s pods are smooth and polished-looking.

Seed pod and bloom on my mom's purple Datura. Notice how smooth this pod is.

After the seeds inside are ready, the pod breaks open and the seeds fall out.  I’m going to try to germinate some of these.  Wish me luck!

My yellow seed pod opening. I had a lot of trouble getting this picture, since it was dark out in my greenhouse when I got home from work yesterday. I really don't like the time change.

For now, I have just been scattering these seeds on the surface of the soil in the same pot.  With the next pod I’m going to be a little more intentional in matching the germination requirements of these seeds.

I imagine most people are thinking “Yeah, yeah – nice seed pods…  Show me the Blooms!“  Okay, here you go.

The stunning yellow Datura

Both of these pictures are from mid to late Summer.  Since then the flowering has trailed off.

The equally stunning purple Datura.

My yellow blooming plant is currently on a top shelf in my greenhouse.  I noticed last night that there were more buds forming on my plant, so I guess even though it lost some leaves over the last couple of weeks, it won’t be going dormant after all.