Hatiora Rosea, Finicky Beauty

Day 194: I sat down at the weaving bench, my eyes somewhat lower than the plant shelf in the craft room's south window, and from that angle, caught a glimpse of pink at the back of a flower pot. Hatiora rosea! This epiphytic cactus is not easy to bring into bloom. This particular specimen is over forty years old (yes, really!) and has bloomed for me perhaps a dozen times. I've never quite figured out what it wants with respect to light, soil, winter temperature, fertilizer, watering or any combination of the above, and therefore am overjoyed when it sees fit to flower. And to think I might have missed the show if I hadn't had a project on the loom!

Huernia Zebrina, Lifesaver Plant

Day 307: Earlier this year, I ordered a "Lifesaver Plant" from one of my favourite suppliers. It arrived with several of the smaller branches broken off and loose in the packing, so when I repotted the parent plant, I tucked them into a second pot and have been pleased to see that they all took root readily and began growing. However, I wondered whether or not I'd ever be able to bring this unusual succulent into bloom, and just a few days ago, noticed a single small bud emerging from the parent plant. I expected it to develop slowly, so was caught completely by surprise today when I rotated the pot and found myself being stared down by a huge red eye. At least two more buds are developing on other branches.

According to the information provided by the supplier, Huernia zebrina is easy to grow. I've heard those words too many times to trust them, but in this case, I have to say they proved true. Like most succulents and cacti, Lifesaver enjoys dryness between watering and full sun. Mine sits in the south exposure of my kitchen window where it gets absolutely baked on 85-90° days. Obviously, it's quite happy in that environment! Its blooming cycle is intermittent, and the "lifesaver" in the center of the flower is as large as a nickel; the points surrounding the center extend beyond the rim of an American quarter. The spines on the foliage are soft to the touch, not at all prickly. What a rewarding plant!

Hatiora Rosea

Day 238: I call it my "Swedish Christmas Cactus," and that's about as far from fact as you can get in a name. Hatiora rosea blooms in late spring and while it is technically a cactus, it is also an epiphyte/lithophyte (i.e., it grows on trees or rocks, drawing nutrients from decaying plant material which is washed down to it by rainwater). Why "Swedish?" The slip from which this blooming beauty grew was given to me forty years ago by a Swedish friend.

For years, I struggled to bring it into bloom with never a bud being set, my frustration magnified by the fact that Christine's was covered in flowers every year. I have to admit that at the time, I had no clue as to its growing requirements, but with no reward coming to me for my pains, I finally relegated it to the window of my sewing room where I seldom remembered to water it. That was how I discovered that it liked an abundance of sun and being ignored. When it put up a single bloom, I was thrilled, but I over-reacted and put it back with the more "active" plants. The next year, it gave me nothing. I chalked the previous success up to fortuituous circumstance, and Hatiora was again relegated to sewing-room purdah. However, when it repeated its previous performance the following year, I began making a connection. I left it there and made no alterations to the way I handled the plant, and from that point on, it has bloomed for me unfailingly.

These days, it lives in my craft room, and just a few days ago, I discovered that it had come into lavish flower while I wasn't looking. I've moved it to the living room for now, but when the last of the flowers drops, I'll put it back on the shelf and reinstitute my practice of scientifically ignoring it until next season.