Bulbophyllum echinolabium: Would You Like Flies with That?

Bulbophyllum echinolabium

The Wisconsin Orchid Society put on a fantastic show last week and I was delighted to attend. It was also the fall meeting of the MidAmerican Orchid Congress. I was surrounded by good people and fine orchids all weekend. However, I learned that some of the best looking orchids are not so welcoming -- unless you're a fly. A case in point is the lovely Bulbophyllum echinolabium  selected for AOS judging at the Wisconsin show.  

Cats and Catts readers might recall from earlier posts that orchid shows often feature two rounds of judging. The first round, the ribbon judging, compares each orchid against other orchids entered into the show. The second round of judging involves accredited orchid judges from the American Orchid Society selecting plants for further consider for national awards. Here, the orchids are compared against previously awarded plants of the same species or type. 

Paph. niveum, not smelly, Wisconsin 2011

I'm not an orchid judge but I love to sit in on these judging sessions if given an opportunity. You can learn a lot. Orchid judges assemble around a table with the plant as the centerpiece. Someone carefully measures the petals and sepals. Another retrieves information from a computerized database. They discuss the flower's shape, form, size, color, and other qualities. It's exciting. (Here, it's worth noting a few other things I find exciting -- old movies, contract bridge, and historical research -- just to put things into perspective). 

Anyway, the judges' conversations are invariably fascinating but it was difficult for me to focus because the flower smelled like rotting meat. Bulbophyllum are notoriously smelly, and that's why I don't have any in my collection. I'd rather have something like a Paph. niveum because it's pretty to look at and it doesn't stink. But I respect the Bulbophyllum genus and recognize the its evolutionary brilliance. Some of the species resemble rotting meat and have developed a bright red lip and horrid scent to attract carrion fly pollinators. And the flower's diabolical plan worked! A pack of green flies swarmed around it during the thirty minutes or so it was on the table. I saw the Bulbophyllum in its exhibit and, there too, a bunch of fly boys desperately buzzed around trying to get the rotting flesh. It's a beautiful flower, but I'm content to let others grow it.

A Bathtub of Brassavolas

You know that we're big fans of the Brassavola genus here at Cats and Catts, so it shouldn't be a terrible surprise that I have a mad mess of them in my bathtub. What's surprising is that only one of these has bloomed for me (B. Little Stars). I've had some for a few years now and -- although I haven't killed them -- I haven't put them in a blooming disposition. I'm all stocked up on Brassavolas on the empty hope that I'll someday be rewarded with gorgeous white flowers and their maddeningly entrancing smell. So, what's the source of my bad luck? I have have some theories:

Among orchid genera, Brassavolas can withstand a tremendous amount of light. They are the high-lightest of the high-light orchids. They want to be right up against the glass of the windowsill or inches from a grow light. But, as you can see, they aren't very demur about the amount of space they take up. Like an octopus, they want to spread their pendant tentacles in every direction. They can't possibly fit in a windowsill without displacing my other orchids that want a lot of light.

Humidity is another problem. Most of my Brassavolas are on wood mounts. They grow well like that, but require daily misting and carefully maintained humidity. Dry spells brought on by a short vacation, a malfunctioning humidifier, or a mid-winter cold snap can quickly damage a plant's root system. I speak from experience. 



The final theory centers on the cats. Between Bean's Brassavola bumping and Riley's outright assaults, it's a wonder they've been with me this long. It's difficult to grow healthy plants if your cats are constantly harassing them.

I'm contemplating a few options, including giving up hope. The best and most ambitious response to my Brassavola problem is a Wardian case built exclusively for my Brassavolas and their needs. I've been thinking about it all summer. I could apply my cold frame construction skills to create a glass box with a fogger, small fan, high light, and some sort of watering system. What could go wrong? Except for spending a lot of time on something that looks hideous and doesn't work... There's that.

But maybe it will work? I have to try something or these things are going to take over the house. psuedobulb by psuedobulb.

The Deadlines

My month-long blog hiatus can be explained in a single word: deadlines. What my gamer friends might call RL (real life) displaced my ability and energy to blog. But I'm back! I've got flower pictures, cat stories, and various musings about the orchid life. One of my deadlines involved an essay about Katy Perry. The essay recently appeared in an online venue (sponsored by the Sarah Lawrence College Women's History Graduate Program). It has nothing to do with orchids and cats (unless you count Hello Kitty! and Katycats) but you can read it here if you're interested. 
Today's flower is from an unregistered cross: Paph. primulinum x Paph. S. Gratrix. Specifically, it's Paph (primulinum 'Gold Bug' x S. Gratrix 'Algonquin' AM/AOS) from Windy Hill. I love it! The green is nice and clear, and the subtle red dotting from the S. Gratrix parent gives it its beautiful freckled-look. The stippling on the dorsal sepal is definitely not symmetrical but the way the red dots break away on the lateral petals is super cool. As an added bonus, it's blooming sequentially (the second flower bud is becoming more visible).

So, that's the good stuff going on in the Cats and Catts house. On a sad note, the orchid community lost one of its great contributors with the recent death of Fred Bergman. He taught me a lot about orchids and I know that I'm one of the many people who will miss his presence at our monthly meetings. It will be easy to remember Fred, though, if only because he has so many hybrids named after him. I'm a proud owner of Phal. Fred's Pimento, and his memory will live on through every bloom season.

Where No Kitty Has Gone Before

Riley explores his Bajoran faith.

Trixie leaves for the Star Trek National Convention in just a few days. This is a HUGE yearly event in the Cats and Catts house involving months of planning and preparation. It's kind of a big deal.

Last year, Trixie wore two Deanna Troi costumes. This year, she's rocking another Troi outfit (it looks awesome!), a Trill costume (with airbrushed Trill spots), and a Dabo Girl costume. Dabo girls are Bajoran, so Trixie and her sister have hired a former Star Trek make-up artist to come to their hotel room in the morning to affix the proper Bajoran nose. Hardcore. I know. I live with it (as well as the voice-activated Tribbles in our living room). 

But I get it now. I watched the different series with her over the last few years and I think I finally understand the unique depth and devotion of Star Trek fans. Why is the Star Trek universe so awesome? I could reference its inter-textuality, how the plots, themes, and characters of Next Generation, Voyager, and DS9 form a canonical narrative, a grand story historically rooted in the original series and Enterprise. Or, I could make a "works on multiple levels" argument and list the layers of appeal (science, adventure, war, romance, etc.).

But the best argument for Star Trek are the Bajoran. I'm not saying that to be controversial. I'm not saying that because Kira Nerys (played by Nana Visitor) is my all-time favorite Star Trek character (although that's obviously part of the calculus). It's just ... I believe in Bajor. When I'm feeling down about the Earth world I can cheer myself up by envisioning a gorgeous planet with five moons, lush landscape, and occupied by humanoids with cute nose wrinkles and fun earrings. Bajoran culture, religion, and lifestyle are something to which we can aspire. And as for the "Kirk vs. Picard" debate, I would ask "So, refresh my memory: which of those Captains was the Emissary of the Prophets?" ('nuff said).  

Total Dessication

Making your own daylily hybrids is all fun and games, but what if the two daylilies you want to cross aren't in bloom at the same time? The daylily breeder needs a method of preserving pollen for future use. The Internet has no shortage of opinions, but my four key go-to sources here are: Daylilies: The Perfect Perennial by Lewis and Nancy Hill, Oscie B. Whatley Jr.'s essay The Art of Hybridizing, John Peat and Ted Petit's The New Encyclopedia of Daylilies, and (even though it's not lily-specific) Moulton's Orchids from Seeds for Pennies. 

You'll find some variation in the advice but the experts are consistent about one point: the pollen needs to be dry. Moisture is the enemy of pollen.

A lot of the advice suggests storing pollen in the refrigerator because of its dryness. Some argue that freezing the pollen is better because you can extend its use to the next growing season. The trade-off, however, is that freezers lack proper air conditioning. 

Are you still awake?

First, we need to acknowledge that rain can always ruin our morning pollen collection and application efforts. The breeder should collect pollen early in the morning before humidity corrupts it. My pollen collection skills improved over the course of the summer and I tried a variety of techniques and tools. The easiest method, in my opinion, involves plucking the pollen with a pair of small scissors and shoveling it into a folded Post-It note. 

The pollen goes into a dessication chamber for 12-24 hours. For this purpose I'm using a canning jar with a piece of mesh cloth to create a platform inside the glass. I stir Damp Rid into a 1/4 cup of water until it gets thick, creating a "super saturated solution."

The final step requires a some kind of case, empty pill bottles, weekly pill cases, Damp-Rid, and a drill with a small bit. I store the pill cases in a plastic box. I use a small pill container (with holes drilled in the top and on the sides) with Damp Rid. Some of the weekly pill cases have holes drilled into the inside chambers with the final chamber containing a little bit of Damp Rid. Other pill cases have holes drilled into the top. 

We'll see how it works out next season! 

Sharks, Seed Pods, and Patience

'Colony' (Tankesley-Clarke, 2004)

This is 'Colony,' a 2004 introduction by Eric and Bob Tankesley-Clarke. Let's dispense with the obvious criticisms: the form is a little mangled and it lacks desired bilateral symmetry. It might be due to grower error, its relative newness in the garden, and/or the streak of insane July heat we've experienced in Kansas. I know it might look washed out but (trust me) the color combo is dazzling: lavender, cream, and metallic. The cultivar is a cross between 'Wedding Band' (the "pod parent") and 'Desert Empress' (the "pollen parent"). You can see the influence of 'Wedding Band' in the gold edgings. Like 'Wedding Band,' photographs fail to convey its beauty, but a close-up is the next best thing. 

'Colony,' ready for its close-up

In the first photo, you see a green seed pod ripening on the scape. It's 'Spacecoast Scrambled' x 'Cosmic Sensation.' 'Cosmic Sensation' was probably my favorite this year owing to the vivid purple/white color contrast and the shark-toothed edging. Keeping with the theme, I recently purchased Elizabeth Shooter's 2001 introduction 'Playing With Sharks.' I bought it from Blue Ridge Daylilies, the only daylily vendor on Cats and Catts "Kitty Approved!" list. I'm on the lookout for 'Barracuda Bay' (Salter 1996) and 'Iwanna Piranha' (Kinnebrew 2006). In the meantime, my ('Spacecoast Scrambled' x 'Cosmic Sensation') could be the next Stout Silver Medal winner, or birds and bugs could be devouring the pod as you are reading this. Smart money will bet on the latter.

My latest MUST HAVE -- 'Playing With Sharks'

 The garden has only a few more blooms left before it closes down for the season. Daylily seed pods take about 40 days to mature from the day of pollination, so I need to stay with the daylily garden into early September to harvest the seeds. Plant-wise, I'll be enveloped into the orchid world from September to March. In March, daylily seedlings (started indoors) will go into the cold frame. Fireworks from the established daylilies will begin a few months later, but only after I've been thoroughly distracted by daffodils and tulips.


Gardening seems like it requires a great deal of patience, but I'm not so sure. I have orchids, daylilies, and other perennials at different stages of growth. I never need to be patient because there's always something in bloom, something in a death spiral, and everything in between. Every gardening day brings new challenges and joys, just like life. 

Vista Agave

Agave americana

Trixie and I were in Vista California for a relaxing vacation visiting friends and family. This gave me a chance to see all of the amazing landscaping efforts my parents have made in the last couple of years. Daylilies, Alstromeria, roses, orchids, and more. When my dad said that they had yellow daylilies, I assume they had 'Stella {{yawn}} de Oro,' but the lilies were much more impressive, with a bright color and 5-6" blooms.


An impressive Agave americana (century plant) sits in a neglected corner of the property. As a child, it always looked especially vicious and the bloom cycle seemed impossibly long (once every ten years!). The blooms go up about 30 feet and then fall down like a big tree. It dies after every bloom and then sends out pups. This plant has been loitering in that spot since at least the early 1970s. It's still impressive!

All That Glitters

This is 'Glitter Gal' (Mix 2005). I purchased it last year at the Topeka Daylily Sale. It's hard to believe that someone was willing to part with it, but it only produced three flowers for me this year and it might have done less for its last owner. It's a long way from the 6-way branching and 45 bud count promised in the catalogs. You have to have patience if you're going to court a glitter gal.

In other news, I'm on twitter. Follow me! But know I'm using it as an all-purpose account, so you'll find my political retweets and nutty Katy Perry updates right alongside the orchid and flower posts. 

Pollen Pushers

'Siloam David Kirchhoff'

I'm not the only one who collects pollen in the early morning. I compete with the insects, and they're probably having more luck than me. Some of my crosses have been a complete bust. I want to blame the weather, but I probably could've done a better job watering the garden. I took the resilience of the daylily for granted. The seed pods need hydrated soil to develp properly. 

'Fooled Me' x 'Pat Garrity' has produced nice pods and I'm almost confident I will have something to harvest in a few weeks. 'Janice Brown' x 'Beautiful Edgings' also shows promise. Other crosses might come through with a pod or two and, with a little luck, I'll have enough to fill the raised bed for next season. It's all a big experiment. Hybridizing daylilies might seem like it takes an extraordinary amount of patience, but it occurs with lightening fast speed compared to seed-to-flower time for orchids. And I kind of like the slow pace. 

I Love the Smell of Diethyl-meta-toluamide in the Morning

Early morning pollination

DEET doesn't smell like victory, but it allows me to leave the daylily garden without a ghastly array of chigger and mosquito bites. It's important for me to be outside during the summer months for at least two to three hours a day. The early morning is ideal. I collect daylily pollen, make crosses, water the orchids, take a few bird photos, and settle into work. Forgive me for talking about the weather, but the Midwest summer morning always seems like it's going to last longer than it does. For instance, it's a lovely 83 degrees right now and, although I know it's going to surpass 100 today, the perfection feels like it could last forever. Why wouldn't it?

'Beautiful Edgings' (Copenhaver 1989)

The extreme weather hurts the viability of my daylily crosses, but there's not much I can do. I made about twenty today and I will be happy if one or two set seed. Like so many things in gardening/life, hybridizing involves a balancing act. On one side, I'm playing a Darwinian numbers game. I want to make a large number of crosses in the hope that a smaller number of them survive. Then, I'll select from the best of the survivors the following season. On the other side, I don't want to make too many crosses because doing too much dilutes my efforts. My garden could produce nearly 100 hybrid combinations despite its small size, but when would I have time to water and care for the orchids? 

Here's my modest list of June crosses (the first name listed is the pod parent and the second name refers to the pollen parent):

'Early Snow' x 'Cosmic Sensation'

'Fooled Me' x 'Pat Garrity'

'Spacecoast Scrambled' x 'Royal Renaissance'

'Peach Candy' x 'Royal Renaissance'

'Cheddar Cheese' x 'Pat Garrity'

'Janice Brown' x 'Beautiful Edgings'

'Pat Garrity,' I hope, gives its offspring flatness and a giant red eye zone. I'm looking at 'Royal Renaissance,' 'Cosmic Sensation,' and 'Beautiful Edgings' to impart an awe-inspiring edge to their kids. The notion that my crosses will result in this greatness is wishful thinking (hence the Darwinian numbers game), but -- like the lottery -- you can't win if you don't play.

'Fooled Me' (Reilly-Hein 1990)

The month of June evaporated on me with unpredictable quickness, but July affords me more time to update you on the daylilies, the orchids and, of course, the kitties. Hello July!