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Cactus scorch
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Terms for
beginners - Scorch |
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You saw the front
of this Matucana on page 3 Did you realise the back would look like
this? This is a classic case of ‘scorching’.
Sunlight and lack
of ventilation are the enemies of all succulent plants. Temperatures
under glass can soar to levels never seen in the deserts and plants
that especially are dry at the roots (or just rootless) can be
sunburnt on the sunny side of the plants in a moment. The scorched
plant of Matucana was a rootless cutting that was spoiled by too
much sun. Rooted and with good cultivation it might grow out of the
damage but it will take many years. |
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Rather different
is the Coryphantha seedling with a lovely coppery sheen (left)
brought in for ‘diagnosis’ by a member. Unfortunately there were
several similar plants in the collection. The wise men puzzled; at
first we thought it was red-spider mite but this generally affects
only the new growth at the top of the plants - this plant was
affected equally all over. The decision was that this was an
advanced case of scorching we named ‘boil in the bag’. In the
red-hot summer of 2003 which produced 100ºF just up the road, the
unventilated small greenhouse had actually cooked the plants. The
affected plants soon died.
At
the Zone Open Day Jean Piece of Luton reported that in similar
conditions her Lithops turned to jelly. |
The moral of the story
is to ventilate your greenhouse - even early in the year the temperatures
can rise to damaging levels and this is when plants are especially likely
to be dry at the roots. Auto-vents can be a help for the forgetful. In
summer leave vents and the door open all the time and when the occasional
Northants heatwave soars (it does occasionally) damp down the floor and
perhaps the plants with water, take out some glass or shade the roof. This
precaution will also help with red-spider mite.
Good growing!
Trev
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Concerning
Cacti Betty
Wilde |
Ed: A friend’s
mum wrote this shortly before she died in 1963. I thought it might amuse you...
Some people collect cacti, and
some like myself have cacti thrust upon them, they are things like poor
relations, and once acquired have to be borne.
Mine came in the guise of a
Christmas gift, about five years ago, and a more repulsive looking lot would be
hard to imagine. I remember especially being begged not to look under the bed in
the spare room, by my niece who hoped to surprise me on the day! She certainly
did and it says much for my presence of mind, (another term in this particular
instance for two-facedness), that I managed to assume an expression of delighted
gratitude when the ‘Things’ were finally presented to me.
Well; there it was, and now
after the first shock I was determined to care for these strange horrors like a
mother.
With vast sandy deserts in
mind, I first decided they would need little or no water, and must admit that
for the first few months, apart from a generous layer of dust they remained much
the same.
Unfortunately my only really
sunny spot is in the window of my sitting room, and there of course my
conscience bade me stand them. There to this day they remain, taking up the best
position, and giving little or no pleasure, unless one feels something akin to
pleasure in the morbid fascination they engender.
I did once ask a neighbour for
a little advice, knowing that he actually bought cacti of his own freewill, and
presumably for pleasure, spending considerable time in arranging them in little
pots and dishes. I did not get very far. Somehow whatever knowledge the cacti
devotee acquires, either by experience or study, he jealously guards.
“Well” he said, in answer
to what I thought to be a simple question as to the amount of water they
required, well, they don’t need much, but they like a nice bit”. I thanked
him, and it was much later that I realized, that except I now knew they needed
water, a fact that I was in any case beginning to suspect, I was little the
wiser.
This, I thought is the time
for experiment, and experiment I did, watering whenever I felt the poor things
looked either particularly dry or more than usually dusty.
For a time I believed I had
the matter in hand, until one morning I came in to find one especially malformed
type was losing it’s limbs in an alarming way. When I further investigated, I
found it was rotted away at the roots, (too much water?) and had to be removed.
I can’t explain the feeling
of guilt, almost I was inclined to give it decent burial, with a degree of
ceremony, and as a compromise, I took it from the wastepaper basket where I had
flung it with distaste, into the garden, hastily covering it with earth, and not
without guilty glances over my shoulder.
About this time the cacti were
further endangered by the arrival at our house of a kitten. This silly creature
felt drawn towards my sunny table, and to the spiky little brutes in particular,
and used to bite their extremities with apparent pleasure, afterwards mewing
over the prickles, but going back for more when opportunity allowed.
One thing however did emerge
from our puss’s savage attacks. I now had a measure of their growth.
Previously I was quite sure that not only had they remained more or less
stationary in height, but were even slightly shrunken. How wrong I was. Six
months after this attack upon them, the cacti had grown nearly half an inch from
the damaged tops, and I began to take heart.
Surely any
year now they might be expected to flower? From time to time, a well-known
cosmetics firm advertised their products, accompanied by a charming flowering
cacti, and thoughtfully provided the Latin name for those who were interested in
knowing the worst of these particular freaks of nature, however mine, it seems
are not that kind. I’ve waited for some years, even replacing the dead one
with ‘fresh blood’ so to speak, but nothing ever happens, no flowers, no
interesting developments. It’s a pity really, because the cactus bug seems to
have possessed me, I find myself actually seeking them out in the florist shop
near our house, there’s no escape.
Betty
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A crazy
start in the cactus world Warren
Withers |
Warren wrote
this for Prickly Paragraphs the Branch magazine of Coventry BCSS Branch in 1981.
One of the questions I am
often asked is "How did you start growing these crazy plants?" Looking
back some twenty years (Ed: that's 40 odd years from now)
the only cactus plant I was then familiar with was the
Opuntia.
|
Warren in
one of his greenhouses in 2005 |
At this time I was taken ill
and removed to a remote hospital near Braintree, where after extensive tests I
was found to have T.B. in the kidney. Being told that I had to go to bed and
stay there for eight months, my first thought was what the hell I was going to
do all day long.
Being familiar with wood, my
first venture was to get my wife to bring me in some blocks of wood and a
variety of knives, and for the first six weeks I spent my time carving owls and
other animals.
A visit from Matron put a stop
to this, as she told me in no uncertain terms that the woodcarving would have to
stop as every time the bed was made it was found to be full of sawdust.
My next escapade was
basketwork. This went down very well for quite some time, especially as I was
taking orders from far a field and making more money than I would have done had
I been at work. This came to a sudden halt when the bucket which was used for
soaking the cane was knocked over. My idea then was to spend some of the money I
had made from the basketwork, but what could I do? |
The idea for my next venture
came to me while I was reading a craft magazine which contained an advertisement
for rubber moulds for garden ornaments. My first order was placed and I duly
received a set of moulds of the seven dwarfs. Needing to keep a low profile so
as not to upset the management, I instructed my wife to obtain a biscuit tin and
to get one of my friends to fill it with a mixture of sand and cement. To begin
with this was fairly successful as not only was I keeping busy but the chap in
the next bed was also occupied with the painting. Alas, this soon came to an end
when a certain amount of sand and gravel was found under my locker and the
production of dwarfs etc. had to stop. What could I try next?
At this time, although I had
plenty of ideas in mind, my activities had to come to a halt as it was time to
have my kidney removed. After the operation I was informed by the top brass that
things would never be the same again, and that once back at home I would have to
keep my activities to a minimum. Under no circumstances was heavy work
advisable. To keep myself occupied was the order of the day.
When I was able to pick up my
activities again I began to read a few of the weekly gardening magazines, and it
was while reading one of these that I stumbled across an article on cacti which
was accompanied by vivid colour pictures. This was when I decided to take up
cactus plants and that there was no time like the present to start my
collection. Off went a number of letters to various nurseries; one of those with
an extensive list at that time was Uplands of Bristol. My first order was placed
and within seven days Sister came in with a small parcel labelled “Plants with
Care”. An immediate discussion took place over where the plants should be
housed, and it was agreed that one bed-table could be used. This was the type of
table used when-eating meals in bed. It proved to be a very good idea, as at
night-time I was able to wheel the table over the central heating pipes, and
during the day wheel it outside. By the time I was ready to leave the hospital I
was pushing seven of these trolleys outside, and had I stayed there much longer
the other patients would have been eating their meals from the floor.
| It was quite amusing when
plants arrived, as I had to persuade one of the staff to go into town to pick up
John Innes compost and gravel. All my potting activities were carried out when
the Sister was off-duty, and a thorough search was made to ensure that there was
no evidence for her to find.
I can remember one of the
staff bringing me a large epiphytic cactus in a 12-inch pot, which I placed on a
shelf at the bottom of the ward. On the Matron's weekly inspection I was asked
what on earth was the monstrosity up there. I told her that it was a man eater,
to which she replied “Please obtain some more; it may save me a great deal of
work”.
Another amusing incident
occurred approximately two weeks before I left hospital, when Matron asked me to
go down and look at a few cacti housed in her living quarters. I discovered that
two of her plants had died, so I took them back to the ward, mixed up some green
paint and gave them two coats, then hurriedly took them back. Whether Matron was
short-sighted I don't know, but the following day she thanked me for potting up
her plants. It was only just before I left that she discovered what I had done. |
Gymnocalycium
neohuberi GN72 2 snapped in full glory in Warren’s collection last
year. (click for a better image) |
In late July I was ready to
leave hospital, and my first thought was where was I going to put all these
plants, 350 in all. With no greenhouse there was nothing for it but to clear the
front room for the invasion. Everything went quite well, and within two months
of returning home my first greenhouse was erected and duly filled, making life
more tolerable in the living quarters. Since this first greenhouse was erected
my collection has got larger and now totals well over 5000 plants which are
housed in six greenhouses.
Warren
Thanks Warren,
for allowing NMK members a chance to read of your early history. The Ed can
report that Warren now has an incredible greenhouse collection. The plants
inside are pretty good too!
