Disco Cattleya

Riley with C. Arctic Star 'Snow Queen' (1979)

A lot happened in 1979. It ushered in the Iran hostage crisis, the Three Mile Island meltdown, and Rod Stewart's #1 hit "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy." But we also had disco and orchids. As the Salsoul blared on the airwaves, a Miami hybridizer named Roy Fields registered Cattleya Arctic Star (C. Claesiana x C. Fred Cole). I purchased this at a January orchid sale and it bloomed earlier in the week. It's like a lot of things created in 1979: undeniably awesome.

Essential keys to happiness: cats and catts!

C. Arctic Snow reminds me why I love Cattleyas. The scent is amazing and the flowers have timeless beauty. In my estimation, a white Cattleya can do no wrong. C. Arctic Star comes from regal heritage, including grandparents C. Vespers (registered in 1921 by Sir George Holford) and the legendary C. Bow Bells. Cattleya species schroderae, triane, cinnabarina, intermedia, and loddigesii are all in the background with C. loddigesii contributing to about 45% of its genetic makeup. 

C. Arctic Snow also reminds me why I can't have too many Cattleyas with my growing set-up. The plant takes up almost as much space as Griffin (see above). But, on the other hand, the orchid doesn't relentlessly beg me for treats.

Nobby's Griffin

Griffin was posing like a super model today so I took a few photos. Here, she's framed by a spike from Phal. Nobby's Amy and a pseudobulb from a mounted Rvc. David Sander. She looks like Dr. Zhivago Kitty with the snow in the background, and that over-the-shoulder look is classic Griffin. One might get the impression that she's a good and normal cat from this picture, and sometimes I think she might be.

Pink Dawn

"Wolverines!!" At least that's what I think Griffin is saying in this photo right before the attack. Pinky the chihuahua parachuted into town during a December visit. Pinky pushed her pinko propaganda on the kitties but Griffin rose up, pretended to drink some deer blood (Trixie's strawberry shake leftovers), and attacked. Longtime Cats and Catts readers know about Griffin's self-designated role as defender of the Homeland and protector of the treats. The other cats hid upstairs in the metaphorical Colorado mountains, but Griffin confronted the Enemy. Did Pinky pose a threat to the Cats and Catts food supply? It's hard to say one way or another but, if there's another communist animal invasion, I always want Griffin by my side.

'Griffin's Hello World'

In daylily circles, it's considered especially poor form to name a cross that's not officially registered with the American Hemerocallis Society.  This make sense.  If everyone named their crosses willy-nilly then tracking the parentage of different cultivars is that much more difficult.  As Oscie Whatley noted over twenty years ago in The Art of Hybridizing "Such fervor to stake a name claim hasn't been equaled since the Oklahoma land rush.  Consequently many a good name has been gobbled up forever by cultivars soon forgotten" (pg. 25-6).  Relatedly, a breeder shouldn't register a cross unless it contributes to the overall universe of daylily hybrids.  A named daylily should be exceptional. 


So, I'm committing some grave sins here, but at least I'm aware of it and making a public confession.  I tried several crosses this summer but this is the only one that worked, and this is the only seedling that sprouted this autumn. Griffin is standing watch over 'Griffin's Hello World' (noid pink daylily x 'Siloam David Kirschoff').  I decided to document it now because it could easily die on me.  I've done my homework, but daylily hybridizing is definitely a learning-by-experience endeavor.  Given its infancy, it's ridiculous that I would name it, even for internal record-keeping.  Yet, I wanted to make note of the small victory.

I did, however, check the Tinker's Gardens database to see if it's already taken (there's a 'Hello World' from 1966, but no 'Griffin') -- I'm not that much of a daylily barbarian. 

November Trio

Upstairs, Lan Lan has a better spot for sunning, but don't tell these three weirdos.  November brings us ever-shortening days, so you have to take advantage of the sunshine while you can (wrapping yourself up in the drape is purely optional).

The days are shortening, but there's a lot going on in the Cats and Catts house.  I bought a four-gallon sprayer that's made watering the plants much easier.  I saw the beginnings of a bloom spike on my Phal. Nobby's Amy, and B. Little Stars is showing signs of action. 


Outside, I'm making preparations for the big winter shutdown: tree trimming, composting leaves, and  mulching the daylily garden.  Garden work in November is a little dreary because the air is thinner and snow season feels immanent.  On the plus side, I don't have to use bug spray.


There's more to come in November, so visit us soon!

Crazy-Cheeks Griffin

Here, Griffin christens the plant stand with her cheeks.  She seems to recognize that the Miltassia has finished blooming, unveiling its thirteenth and final flower on October 23.  But back to Griffin....

The strange appearance bands of discoloration approximately a foot above the floor on various wall edges has been an ongoing mystery of the Cats and Catts house.  Recently, we took a closer look and noticed that Griffin's repeated rubbing of her cheeks against the wall edges has left a mark.  We know this is her way of marking territory, a common strategy among cats because of scent glands in their cheeks, but Griffin is extra aggressive in this regard, befitting her pushy nature.  My Brassavolas, my toothbrushes, the edge of whatever book I'm reading -- Griffin leads the way with her crazy cheeks.

So, I was happy to have the camera ready to document what a complete freak Griffin can be when she doesn't get enough cheek pets.

Orchid Room Refreshed

 It took several weeks, but the orchid room has new paint, more light, and better climate controls. Finally!

I’m supplementing the light from a West-facing window with compact fluorescents. In general, my big plants are on the left, the low-light babies are on the bottom, the small Catts are in the middle, and the Brachys are on top. The red and black fans are on alternating schedules to vary the air circulation. Off-screen, in the back of the room, an oscillating fan turns on in the afternoon for six fifteen-minute blocs. The Brachys, in particular, appreciate the extra air movement. For humidity, we have a cool-air humidifier in the corner and a large bowl of water on the bottom of the plant rack. Griffin is shown taking advantage of the water bowl, but we’ve seen all of the cats enjoy it. The air feels buoyant, the kitties are happy, and now -- with cooler nights and shorter days -- it's the orchids time to shine.

Bark Confidential

Bark Confidential
by Selena Sabine

Word of a hot new bark hit the street like a scrap of salmon falling off a dinner plate.  “Kiwi bark,” they called it.  High quality stuff. You only need to repot every four or five years with it.  Old timers said that they haven’t seen bark like this since the 1980s.  I knew I had to get me some bags, so I hatched a deal.
 

It was a sun kissed September afternoon as I rolled up on the house, Toonces-style.  Stopped in front of the open garage, the smell of pine hit me like a water gun spray.  Trays of orchids everywhere.  Multiple genera.  True madness.  It looked like a severe case of orchid addiction and I had a feeling he was an accredited AOS judge.  I was in the right spot.  I put a roll of Andrew Jacksons in my fur coat and cautiously exited the car.

The man eyed me nervously through his spectacles.
 

“I hear you have some bark,” I said.
 

He nodded and pointed to an opened bag of dark brown wood chips.  I slowly reached my paw in the bag.  Careful.  Like I’m stealing a piece of chicken off the kitchen counter.  The situation was already high-wire – I didn’t need to make it more jumpy.  I brought the brown wood chip to my nose.  The way my whiskers bounced off its surface.  That forest aroma.  My tail flicked hopefully against the Fall air. I knew this was superior bark.

“Two bags.  Medium grade.”

After loading two bags in the trunk, he reached down for a third.

“Since you’re headed out West, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind holding a few for my associates.”

This is always how it starts.  You think you’re making a square cash-for-bark transaction, but there’s always a catch.  Then, before you know it, you’re trading in perlite.  You’re brokering charcoal deals.  You're the middle-man for reverse-osmosis equipment.  Then you find yourself caught in a web of secrets, extortion, bribery, blackmail, assassins, and the whole rotten root system of the underground potting materials trade.

“That wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“I thought you might say that.”

 He reached behind his back and produced a bag with a green leaf.  The pseudobulb showed viable roots.

“Dendrobium Lindleyi ‘Joy.’  For your troubles.”

Wasn’t this cutting from that gorgeous and floriferous award winner in the February show?

 
Well played.  He was good.  I started purring in spite of myself.

                              ***
 

The back wheels sagged under the weight of pine.  The Dendrobium stared at me from the passenger seat.  The purring had long ago changed over to vet-visit-like stillness.  I kept my yellow eyes forward, tried to focus on the endless expanse of freeway, but I couldn’t shake my doubts.

“You’ve done it again, Bean.  In over your head.  Just like the giant feather-toy debacle.”

It was nightfall as I approached the driveway.  It was my own home, but something seemed fishy, and not Friskies Seafood Medley fishy.

                             ***
 

I swung open the front door to find two intruders.  Claws out, I pounced on the couch with a hiss.  On my right flank, a man with a handlebar mustache lurched backwards.  I drew on all of my prior training with a laser pointer, but the consequences were much more dire than being unable to catch a shiny red dot.  Seeing my nine lives flash before me, I quickly pivoted and caught him with my back claws.

“Oh my,” he exclaimed with a disarming folksiness.

I retracted my claws and propelled forward toward the second intruder, the woman with the long hair. I spotted my landing on her left shoulder, but she ducked.  I landed with an embarrassing thud and quickly tried to pretend that I intended to land on the floor all along.  I glanced up to see the two of them smiling down at me.

“Your sister Lan Lan let us in.  We called ahead and Riley agreed to load the bark from your car to each of ours.  I think he’s probably doing that right now.”

“What do you want from me!?  Is this a set up!?”

I realized how paranoid I sounded only after the words escaped my mouth.  But why shouldn’t I be paranoid?  They seem perfectly nice, but this bark business is a rough trade.  I was getting in too deep. How can I claw out?

Griffin ambled down the stairs.

“Hey guys!  Do you have any treats?”

Griffin!  Where did she come from?

“Pet me!” she said to the strange woman. “And, do you have any treats?”

“You’ll have to excuse Griffin.” I said.  “She’s very…”

Griffin let out a loud cry before I could finish the sentence.

“Do you have any treats?  Will you pet me?”

Griffin seemed unfazed by their puzzled looks and lack of treats.  I looked at both of them and yawned. 

Griffin begging for treats.  No surprises here.

“Treats?  Please?  I haven’t had treats in months,” she pleaded.

I was about to correct Griffin and mention that she had several treats yesterday, and that our guests already said that they didn’t have treats.  But I let it go.

“I need more pets,” she said, angling her back into the guest's shin. “And do you have any treats?”

“We better get going,” the mustache man said. The lady with the long hair nodded and quickly packed her things.

We narrowly avoided a dicey situation, but it was just another day of living dangerously in the Cats and Catts house.

"And It's Calm Air Over Sunbeam, By a Nose"

 At least that's what I would expect the racehorse announcer to say if he were to look at my paint choices.  Or, if my paint choices were in a horse race.  Regardless, Sunbeam was much too yellow, so Trixie and I decided to go with a more muted color scheme.  Remember, this was a Labor Day project that I envisioned finishing in 48-72 hours.  I don't care that I already used the yellow - I just view it as practice.  How do you like Calm Air?

The horse race comparison is somewhat apt because I'm racing to finish this before I leave for Louisville Kentucky at the end of the week.  Louisville is home to both the Kentucky Derby and the Mid-America Orchid Congress Fall Meeting.  I'm attending the latter.


In other news, my Miltassia is starting to show off and Griffin remains a problem.

Happy Labor Day!

Griffin, Riley, and the rest of the Cats and Catts family wish you and your loved ones a Happy Labor Day!

What's Wrong With This Picture?

 The correct answer is "Griffin is being good," but I'll also take "those inflorescences need staking."  The Miltassia C.M. Fitch 'Izumi' gives her a number of leaves to chew on, and those bloom spikes look like they could use some nudging with her cheeks.  After all, we still don't know whether Charles Fitch is a dog person or a cat person.


This plant has come a long way since I bought it (about a year ago).  It has five inflorescences and some of the buds are starting to show the purple hues of the flower.  It's in a 5" pot with multiple holes drilled in it, filled with Hydroton from RePotme.  That whole thing is in a 6" pot filled with aquarium gravel.  The gravel has kept it from falling over and it's also created -- not a semi-hydroponic situation -- a "quasi-hydroponic" one.  My Mtssa. loves the clay Hydroton marbles and and many of my Cattleyas do, too.  More accurately, my plants love that they're in soil-less medium because it makes my over-watering less offensive.  The velamen glues itself to clay and the medium takes up as much water as it needs.  


I should add that RePotme is a Kitty Approved! vendor.  One of their strengths is affordable shipping costs, which is a big deal when we're talking about big bags of special rocks and dirt.  They look really good when you do the math and compare their growing media prices to other vendors, and they just sell orchid potting supplies, which is very confidence-inspiring.


Anyway, I need to figure out why Griffin is acting so behaved -- she must be plotting something big.  I'm sure I'll get an answer when she wakes up from her nap.  Until then, I'll let her rest under the foliage and hope for the best.

Decoy Cat Nip

We've discussed the split between cats and catts integrationists and cats and catts separatists: some allow their kitties to roam free among the orchids and others go to extreme measures to prevent feline botanical harassment.


My middle-ground approach involves the strategic placement of Nepeta cataria to lure the cats away.  I haven't had any major problems with the cats so far. Griffin has a sixth sense about when the Brassavola are vulnerable, and Riley's been known attack them, too, but we've avoided major disasters.  Like James Dodson planting hostas to lure deer away from his better hostas, I reason that we need to cover the orchid room in these decoy plants.


I started them for strategic purposes, but now I genuinely love the plant.  Its growth habit nicely fills in my office window, and it has an unique minty fragrance and cute flowers.  We have two containers of Nepeta cataria and a 3x3' patch in the yard which seems to attract an entire Navy of mosquitoes (making me question its alleged bug repellent properties).


Do the cats appreciate all of this work?  Griffin is the only one that truly gets excited about the fresh catnip.  She's spent hours in its thrall, rolling in it, chewing the leaves, endlessly rubbing her cheeks on the side of the planter, and (of course) drooling.  Sabine has shown interest in the plants we've dried and she's loved spending her summer days under the plant's tendrils, looking at the frogs from her window-side cat bed.  It's a hard knock life for Bean.  Lan Lan is a huge fan of the Cosmic Catnip Banana.  Riley?  Like other treats, Riley shows no interest whatsoever.


Maybe I'm growing the catnip just for Griffin?  That's okay.  As I've typed this post, she's watched over me purring.  It could be the picture of catnip on the computer screen that's making her happy.  Or maybe she's buttering me up so I'll give her treats.  It just might work.


   

Rule #60

The Cats and Catts household is making some changes in how we buy and eat food.  Our food shift has been prompted by realizations, evolved opinions, new knowledge, and good old fashioned peer pressure.  Perhaps I'm warming up to the idea that sustainability is sustainable.  So, maybe all of these people telling me to read Michael Pollan for the last five years have a point?  I loved Botany of Desire, especially the tulip part (obviously).  Trixie was approaching Pollan through a series of youtube videos about environmental sustainability, American health trends, and the complicated evolutionary relationship humans have with food.  (I also think she has a tendency to find bald men especially attractive, but that's a separate topic).  Feeling the pull of the Pollan, we started with the basic primer Food Rules: An Eater's Manual. He says "You can read it in an hour and it just might change your eating life."

Food Rules has advice for the kitties, too.  Rule #60 stuck out at me: "Treat treats as treats."  The only problem with that as a command is that Griffin will only hear "treats" and beg for more.  That rule has three utterances of the word "treat," and that's asking for trouble.

Lan Lan, I don't think, reacts to the word "treat" in quite the same way.  The "treat treats as treats" motto might actually work.  But watch out if you have animal cookies because -- treat rule or not -- she will get up in your face and demand her share of jimmies.  

Frog Friday! The Cricket Edition

Trixie has generously agreed to share her insights into the difficult task of maintaining the crickets:

Feeding and Care of the Frog Food 

by Trixie, February 2010 

When crickets arrive at the store, they are basically dry, hungry husks.  They need to be fattened up (aka “gut fed”) before they are fed to the frogs.  The frogs get all their nutrition from the baby cricks, so we need to make sure their bellies are full of fresh fruits and vegetables, and sometimes a little calcium powder on top, before they are fed to the frogs.

Healthy frogs are fat and round.  Our frogs are healthy, and growing plumper by the day.  Bob is our roundest frog, recently looking like he swallowed a half dollar.  Carol is the second fattest; a big, healthy gal.  Alice and Ted both appear the same size they were when they moved into our frog commune, months ago.  Horst is our tiniest frog, but he often grabs four crickets at one feeding.   Our other kids are typically satisfied with one or two baby crickets a day.  So, if you do the math, that’s about a dozen crickets a day.   Eighty-some a week.  

We started our adventure, we had Bob and Carol.  Their food needs were minimal. We bought our cricks two dozen at a time, in a little bag with some pieces of egg crate to keep them from stepping on each other and crushing their little dry bodies.   We kept them in a cute little cage.   We fed them carrots.  It was a simple time.  

Soon, we added Ted and Alice to our family.  But double the frogs equal double the crickets.   Suddenly, our cricket needs were in the dozens every week.  There were multiple learning moments while transferring the crickets from the bag to the boxes. The kitties loved the sudden opportunities for hunting, stalking, and pouncing on the escapees.   The lazy ones spent their short lives munching on carrots, safely nestled in a few pieces of egg crate.

  

But then, we added a fifth frog: Horst.  Horst is a very hungry hopper, often feasting on four cricks per feeding.  Suddenly, buying crickets by the dozen became impractical.  The wonderful employees at Pet World suggested that buying crickets by the thousand would be a cheaper and make for fewer trips to the pet store. 

Before we brought the box-o-thousand-crickets home, we created a bigger home.  My new research shows that our frogs require a more varied diet than just carrots, so I bought kale, potatoes, apples and carrots for the feeders.  I prepared a huge plastic bin with everything 1000 crickets could ever want.  I layered egg crates, empty toilet paper rolls, paper towel rolls, and cardboard scraps, ensuring that the cricks would have a safe and happy place to await their execution.  

Picking up 1000 crickets made me realize….that is a lot of crickets!  In a very tiny box.   I brought the box home, opened it, and promptly let loose a small army of crickets upon our office.  The carpet pulsed with crickety life.  After some serious attempts at capturing the runners, I left it to the cats to clean up my mess.  I need to develop a better system of transferring the load of crickets into the cage. 

The 950 some crickets that made the transfer without incident were undoubtedly delighted with the bounty I laid out for them.  They were gutted overnight, and the next day, the frogs were treated to the healthiest food this side of nature.  

Most mornings, we open the lid on the big bin of cricks, pull up a piece of egg crating that is full of live ones, and funnel them into a large beer glass.  They ate their last supper, and their lives end shortly after being unceremoniously dumped into the frog homestead.  

  Many are picked off immediately, courtesy of Horst.   Some head for the top of the bark, and get a brief reprieve.  But the five frogs can climb, and no cricket lives for long in the commune.  25 days later, the cycle starts again, with a new box of crickets.

 

Rare Moment

With her best friend Riley in the background, Griffin agreed to pose with the Paph. hainanense I purchased from Oak Hills Gardens, now in bloom.  It's come a long way since November when it was last seen with Lan Lan.  Trixie sent this photo to me when I was out of town.  It came with the message "Griffin ... a rare good moment."  How true.  I was surprised she didn't ask the flower for treats or try to pollinate it with her claw.  Maybe the house is safe for slipper orchids?  Here's a closeup (photo by Trixie):

False Phalaenopsis Accusations

Everyone knows by now that Griffin is a little untrustworthy. Naturally, when I saw the first bloom fall off of this Phal. 'Homedepot' I blamed Griffin.  She was probably looking for goodies, perhaps crying to the Phalaenopsis in her constant quest for treats.  When more blooms fell, we increased our questioning of relevant witness and, while Griffin was still the primary suspect, Trixie and I had no definitive proof Griffin was the culprit. 

I blamed Griffin, in part, because Phals were supposedly one of the easiest orchids to grow.  If my other orchids were thriving, how could this basic orchid, sold to masses, suffer blasted blooms?  It must be Griffin.

Then, I saw signs of crown rot and I discovered that the roots were packed in sphagnum moss.  There was no other growing medium except sad soggy moss that was undoubtedly drowning the plant and cutting its oxygen.  I do not doubt that one can grow phals successfully in sphagnum, but it definitely wasn't working for me or the kitties.  What to do?


I read this helpful entry in allexperts.com from an orchid owner (Vivian) struggling with a similar situation.  The resident expert (Wayne) encouraged Vivian by noting, "You were right to get the plant out of the sphagnum and into a fir-based orchid potting mix."  I wanted to do the right thing, too, so I bought special phal. bark at Sunrise Gardens and repotted it.  A week later, it still looked miserable.  Thinking back to it, I probably didn't let it dry out enough for it to stage a full recovery.

After the final leaf dropped, I cursed the Phalaenopsis genus, threw the plant in the backyard to decompose, and gave Griffin a sincere apology. 

Meeting Matilda

 

Do you recall the photo of the Hindenburg blimp moments before it burst into flames?  That's what this picture brings to mind.  Here, Matlida paid a visit to the kitties (Lan Lan had the good sense to stay away).  More accurately, the kitties visited Matilda, who had emerged from under the bed to find Bean gorging on her wet food.  Griffin and Matilda faced off, and Riley rushed up just to cause more trouble.  Cue satanic growling noises from The Exorcist.  I set my camera down when the scene turned more chaotic and, after Griffin took a few swipes at our guest, I put a stop to it.

Matilda is a boy kitty with a female name and Griffin is a girl kitty with a male name.  You would think that they have a lot to talk about.  So, why did Griffin react violently to Matilda?  I patiently explained to Griffin that Matilda was only staying for one or two nights, but it didn't seem to make a difference.  It could have been a selfless gesture from Griffin, defending the home against strange intruders.  When a possum, dog, or other cat lurks outside Griffin is almost always the first on the scene, tail puffy, ears back, and ready to attack whatever animal threatens to penetrate the window screen.  On the other hand, her first thought might have been "more cats means fewer treats!"

Griffin is also a little bit of a camera hog.  She probably knew that I was going to photograph Matilda, and therefore Griffin's jealousy may have been another factor contributing to the tense atmosphere.  Regardless, with Bean, Riley, and Griffin banished from the room, I took advantage of the brief period of calm to capture Matilda posing with our Pot. Jared's Jewel (Pot. Afternoon Delight 'Magnetism' x Slc. Jewel Box 'Scheherazade' AM/AOS) from Oak Hills Gardens.    

I See Aphids

Bean looks over the blooms of this Sharry Baby, thinking that they might be treats. She discovers nasty aphids.

Sure enough, I spotted the pests on adjacent soft-leafed plants. I pulled them off the table and wiped their leaves with warm water and diluted rubbing alcohol. Bean helped, and together we got most of them killed.

The Sharry Baby required more extreme measures, so I consulted my home library.

The otherwise rich and informative The Best Orchids for Indoors, published by the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, lives in a blissful world where insects pose no threat. Batchelor's Your First Orchid, published by the AOS, seems to cover all of the insects except aphids. Banks' Orchid Grower's Companion encourages me to consider insecticides only as a last resort and to "take a shower afterward" (pg. 73) as if I'm Karen Silkwood. Frowine's Orchids for Dummies informs me that aphids are carriers of viruses and diseases, which only ratchets up my growing neurosis. He recommends two lines of defense: warm water and then, if necessary,insecticidal soap, horticultural oil, orange oil, and/or isopropyl alcohol. Finally, Orchid Growing Illustrated by the Rittershausens sends me into a tailspin of paranoia with twenty pages of vivid illustrations of orchid pests and disorders, giving me whole new categories of things to worry about. Pseudomonas cattleyae? Fusarioum oxysporum? And here's a giant picture of a wood louse. Feel better now?

Although each individual book suggested soft initial steps, collectively they led me to attack the problem with extreme prejudice. Break out the Agent Orange! Or "orange oil." Whatever. Ultimately, I wanted an insecticide that accurately captured my emotions upon seeing the bugs. I couldn't find "Frustration." I was also unable to locate "Disgust." So, I settled on "Concern."

I sprayed down the plant in the shower, let it sit overnight, and then washed it down the next day. I waited a week before reintegrating it with the others. Next time, I might apply a softer touch, but the aggressive approach appeared to have worked. I'm prepared for the next outbreak, unless it's giant wood lice.

"Why Won't Our Spider Plant Grow?"

For months we wonder why our spider plant wasn't thriving.  Other plants grew while our spider plant cutting flailed.  It never got off the ground despite regular water and plenty of light.
What could possibly be wrong?  Teeth marks on the leaves pointed to at least one of four possible troublemakers.  Then, I witnessed Griffin barf up suspicious looking plant matter, but I it didn't explain the wholesale misery of our particular specimen.  Then I saw it.  Griffin was sitting on the spider plant.  Moreover, she seemed to have no awareness that she was doing anything wrong.  It must have seemed like a perfect place to watch squirrels and -- you have to admit -- she looks extremely content.  Recognizing our uphill battle, I moved the plant from the clay pot to a hanging plastic pot.  It's thriving now that Griffin is unable to sit on it.

We were interested in spider plants (chlorophytum comosum) after learning about their ability to absorb air pollutants.  I didn't think they were going to be a problem because some say that these plants are "the easiest to grow of all the hanging or trailing plants" and are "among the easiest houseplants to propagate."  No one, however, considered the Griffin factor.

Double Trouble

Riley watches Griffin inspect the Dendrobium. Riley and Griffin are good friends, but their fraternizing often leads to rough and tumble antics. Griffin will walk up to Riley for some grooming and – five minutes later – the sweet scene of one cat lapping the forehead of another devolves into claws, tackles, and furry chaos. It looks like Riley had a perfect position to paw at Griffin, but he was on surprisingly good behavior. The blooms are from a Den. ‘Thames Blue.’ I don’t know much more about it except that it came to me with severely wrinkled pseudobulbs. I gradually increased the water.  It's been in bloom for a long time.  After it's finished, I'll give it a rest and ease up on the water.  I’m glad Riley and Griffin don’t have to rest for the winter – it would be a lot less fun.