Variegated Indian Borage (Plectranthus amboinicus)

I’ve been coughing my lungs out.

After multiples doses of cough mixtures and popping lozenges and cough drops, I decided to turn to the herb garden for relief. I wonder why I never thought of the Indian borage in the first place.

As it’s always been lauded as a great herb for coughs, I steamed a few leaves with a small lump of rock sugar.  Just as well I hadn’t pruned away too much of the herb the last time I gave it a haircut.

Today, my friend, Mag told me that her family has always turned to this herb as the panacea for coughs. “My great-great grandmother would extract the juice from the leaves and drink it.”

Since it was too much bother to extract the juice, I just popped the leaves into my mouth and chewed. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it might be; I’d have endured much more to beat this dastardly cough. I just hope there’ll be enough leaves on the plant for a few more doses.

That’s my normal Indian Borage. I value it for its medicinal value as well as its lovely thick scented leaves which are covered with a soft fuzz.

The other Indian Borage I have has an additional feature; the leaves have an attractive white edge.

I saw the variegated Indian borage at a friend’s place and loved it.

For some reason the cuttings she gave me rotted away; perhaps due to my over enthusiasm in watering them.

Just as I was lamenting its demise, I saw a tiny leaf that was miraculously spared. I stuck that leaf, no bigger than my fingernail, into the soil. No harm trying, I thought.

I cheered the leaf on, praying that it wouldn’t end up as compost material. Amazingly the tiny spunky leaf took root and grew.

The spindly new growth is now about six inches tall and sports more than two dozen white edged leaves. While this little tyke is still dwarfed by its strapping cousin, I don’t think it’s going to remain so for long.

Care and propagation: partial shade to full sun; garden soil; water moderately. Propagate using cuttings.

Bat-face cuphea (Cuphea llavea)

I scoured the rows of potted plants at the garden centre. Nothing new, I thought. The usual pentas, impatiens, dianthus, zinnias, petunias …

… and then I saw it. Something different; something new.

Its crimson red caught my eye first; crimson red ears, then its purplish black impish face. Tiny bats stared with their huge eyes.

Vampire bats! Seen at an angle, the bats seem to be zeroing in on their prey. My imagination ran wild.

I bought a pot. No. I’m not fond of its namesake, but this floral version is fascinating.

I love its two flamboyant red petals that resemble the ears. I know it’s also called Bunny Ears and Tiny Mice, but there’s just too much of the bat in it to be anything else for me.

Apparently Bat-face loves the heat, is drought tolerant and is a perennial. Music to my ears; I’m loving it more by the minute.

I cut some of the longer trailing stems to propagate and hope they’ll root easily. A few more pots of the same would be lovely. But I wouldn’t want these flowers to transform into the winged nocturnal mammals they resemble any time soon.

 

Care and propagation: partial shade to full sun; well drained soil, water moderately; propagate using seeds or cuttings.

Dancing Plant (Desmodium Gyrans)

“A dancing plant?? Yeah, right …”

“It really dances! Google and see if you don’t believe me.”

So I did. And there it was; sufficient evidence on the net to silence this doubting Thomas.

But I had no idea where to get Desmodium Gyrans seeds – until a friend asked if I wanted any. Now’s my chance to see some action!

I planted all five seeds … three germinated but only one survived.

As soon as I thought it was big enough to respond, I clapped, whistled and sang. We even played some music. But not a single leaf budged! What could be wrong?

Once again, I googled.

Apparently, my technique was off; the leaves respond more readily to soft high pitched sounds.

So I tried using a higher pitch. This time the tiny leaves moved!

The movements were sporadic and jerky so I wonder if the plant was traumatized instead.

My own video wasn’t great so here’s one I found on YouTube : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mVBTqh37TGM

Perhaps I should try some classical music on my own plant next.

I’m really enjoying the uniqueness of the Desmodium Gyrans. Its leaves are quite pretty and it’s certainty a conversation piece and a hit with the kids.

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Care and propagation : partial shade to full sun; garden soil; water moderately; propagate using seeds

Ploiarium Alternifolium or Cicada Tree

I’ve been fooled by a plant for years.

I always thought that the Ploiarium Alternifolium was a small potted plant since ours has always been less than 18 inches tall. And we’ve had it for a very long time.

Then I find out that it’s called Cicada Tree and I wonder why.

A quick Google search tells me that it is indeed a tree with the potential to reach great heights.

And why ‘Cicada’? I hope this means that the insect has an affinity with the plant since that means I may, one day, get to hear the cicada sing. So far, there hasn’t been a ghost of a cicada.

Our Ploiarium Alternifolium tends to be overlooked due to its diminutive size but it is attractive.

Its leaves are a glossy green.

The buds are plump and tipped with a blush of pink.

Its flowers remind me vaguely of sweet cherry blossoms and are delicately fragrant.

Even the seed capsules are lovely with their deeply ridged structure.

I love it.

Yet, strangely, it’s not commonly sold at garden centres. It should be, given the ease of care and I’ve never seen any pests on it either.

Lately I’ve been on the lookout for beetles. We’ve had visits from big black rhinocerous beetles and shiny green ones, too, but there are still no cicadas.

If anyone tells me that there’s a cicada sitting on our Ploiarium Alternifolium right now, I’d have to be a cynic and say nay. It’s the first of April after all.  

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Care and propagation: Partial shade to full sun; not fussy about soil; water generously. Propagate using seeds.

Senecio Macroglossus Variegatus

I must be seeing things. Creamy yellow flowers on variegated ivy? 

But the vision persisted; a trellis covered with ivy shaped leaves and daisy-like blooms. The leaves were fleshy; thicker and glossier. This wasn’t the regular ivy I knew, so what was it?

The plant wasn’t for sale but I helped myself to some of the seeds. My joy was short-lived though as none of them germinated.

what i saw at the garden centre

Then after three years, I found pots of the same plant at a garden centre!

And after all this time, I find out that it’s not a hedera after all but a Senecio Macroglossus Variegatus.

What a gem this Secenio must be for those who love the ivy but are allergic to it!

my secenio

My Senecio is adapting well and the leaves are lovely but I plan to feed it some flowering inducer soon and see if that can persuade it to bloom.

Wouldn’t it be great if that worked?

Care and propagation: filtered light; well-drained soil; water moderately. Propagate using cuttings or seeds.

waiting to see this bloom

African Violet (Saintpaulia)

“You want this?” the lady selling plants asked me. “Take it. No one will buy it.”

“Why not?”

“I dropped the pot the other day. See? The leaves have broken off so I can’t sell it now. You can have it.”

I couldn’t say no so I thanked the lady. I felt I had adopted an orphan; the plant no one wanted.

The bruised African violet (does anyone actually call it Saintpaulia?) didn’t look too bad despite being lopsided.  But I wondered if it could have gone to a better home.

I had bought two pots of AVs a few years back when I was up in the highlands.

(wouldn’t you have found them hard to resist if you had seen this expanse of AVs?)

But a couple of months and a few leaf propagations later, I was ready to call it quits. To tell the truth, I find the AV a little fiddly.

I was tempted to pass the poor orphan to someone who could appreciate it but could not make myself do it.

So, I played the reluctant guardian. I bemoaned my lack of patience with gesnariads and my friends probably sympathized with the plant.

“So how’s the African violet? Is it blooming?”

“No,” I replied, “but at least it’s still alive.”

After a few months of inactivity, a few small buds peeked through the leaves; nothing impressive but it looked like the AV had finally recovered.

Then more buds showed. I felt like a proud guardian when the first bud bloomed.

And then when it was lovely enough to be part of the décor during the lunar new year, I knew it had come into its own.

But, would I like another AV? Er, no, I’ll pass. One is plenty, thank you.

Care and propagation: bright light, out of direct sunlight; potting mix; water generously at base; wick-watering recommended. Propagate using leaf-propagation method.

Melastoma Spp.

The Melastoma Malabathricum is a weed that grows wild in wasteland and open spaces; yet the bare branches of the Melastoma sell like hot cakes every Chinese New Year.

We’d attach fake cherry blossoms and hang tiny ornaments on the branches and the overall effect is pleasantly festive.

But no one sells them anymore.

There’s a wild melastoma that grows just beyond our garden fence, but I always prune it right to the ground since it isn’t a very attractive plant.

One day, an aunt told me about her ‘Japanese peony’ which was covered with flowers. “The lady says it’ll keep blooming all the time.”

“A peony?” This I had to see.

Alas, it was a Melastoma; albeit a prettier version. “But it’s like the roadside weed, right?” I asked. Imagine my reaction when I found that she had paid more than USD10 for it.

Two weeks later, I had to eat my own words. I paid the same amount for a small but lovely melastoma.

I wondered if it could (one day) look like the six-foot tall beauties I saw growing in the vicinity.

what i saw at the garden centre

melastoma in full bloom

I stopped to gaze at the gorgeous display. I couldn’t wait to get home with my latest acquisition.

I planted my melastoma out in full sun as soon as I reached home and paid the price for my hastiness. The blazing heat was too much for it and I had to prune most of the wilted buds. What a shame!

Lately the plant’s been showing a bit of what it’s capable of. There are always flowers on the bush – each with five pinkish purple petals. The pistils are gently curved and stamens, distinctly hooked.

The flowers of this melastoma are bigger than its wild counterpart. How else do they differ? The new blooms of the former sport a glow of white towards the centre making it appear a little luminescent, while the mature flowers are an even purplish pink. What’s more, the colour appears to be different depending on the lighting. On the other hand, all the blooms of the latter appear to be one solid shade of purplish pink.

wild melastoma

The wild melastoma has bigger leaves which overshadow the smaller flowers.

The other melastoma however, has the ideal combination of smaller leaves and larger blooms. It is definitely more showy.

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I guess I must be hooked on the prettier melastoma. I found a couple of stray seedlings the other day and potted them.

I’m now waiting for it to grow and bloom to confirm that it’s the lovelier melastoma. Please, please don’t let them be the wild cousin …

Care and propagation: dappled light to full sun; water moderately; not fussy about soil; propagate using seeds or cuttings