Surprise!
And this one really
was a surprise. Started budding in June, and the flower had fully opened by 21 June. This is
very unusual for a
Schlumbergera, which need long nights and cool temperatures in order to set buds, but seedling 200 had been living in the basement. The temperature drop requirement was likely met, because in the basement, summer is the cool season.
Night length is harder to figure out, since all the lights down there are on timers. The individual timers are set for around 12 hours a day, I think, but they're staggered, such that there's at least one group of lights
1 on down there at any given moment for about 17 hours per day.
2 Which should prevent blooming
Schlumbergeras, but apparently doesn't. Seedling 200 was in the center of a flat, and had another, taller flat between itself and its primary light source, so my guess is that it effectively only got light from one set of lights, which happened to give it long enough nights for setting buds.
But who knows. I mean, sometimes plants just do unexpected things and there's no explaining it.
In any case. So I have to name one last seedling from the 2015-16 season.
To replace the TinEye naming process, which worked reasonably well for quite a while, but stopped generating new ideas about halfway into the 2015-16 season, I've come up with a big list of words, and then I throw those words randomly together in MS Excel to see whether anything interesting emerges. I did a test run of this in the post for
092A Sparky, and although I didn't wind up using one of those names for that seedling, I felt like it still worked pretty well. So, I've generated something like 150,000 combinations, which I pick through during dull moments to see if anything interesting jumps out at me, and I've been saving the plausible names in a different list. So, from that list of names, the previous list of emergency names, and the list of previously considered but unused names, all thrown together, I got a long list of 30 possibilities, which I reduced to a short list of 8.
They are:
Breakin' The Law, which has been previously considered a number of times, but became more applicable when I had a seedling bloom in June.
Renegade, basically the same thing but about half as long to type.
Vamos A La Playa, Spanish for "let's go to the beach." Partly because I like the Los Lobos song "La Playa" --
-- and partly because going to the beach is seasonally appropriate in June.
14th Anniversary, because as long as we're talking about the timing of things, the husband and I just had ours
3 at the end of August.
Clyde, for the orange Pac-Man ghost, previously considered for
058B Buff Orpington.
Sun and Snow, which I like because this one has a lot more white in it than most of the orange blooms have had, but also maybe works for a seedling that can bloom in summer and winter. Not that I'm guaranteed blooms in June ever again, of course. And come to think of it, it might never bloom this white again either.
Miss Emma is one of those semi-opaque personally significant names.
4 You'll have to trust me that it works for the person it's intended to reference.
The Darb is 1920s hipster slang for a person or thing that is excellent / valuable / attractive / etc.
How to narrow it down? Well, I suppose we can skip
14th Anniversary, because the traditional 14th-anniversary gift is
ivory. Not sure that many people know this or try to follow that tradition, but a 14th-anniversary
Schlumbergera really ought to be white.
And I do really like this seedling, so
The Darb seems appropriate, but there will be other pretty seedlings that don't have the unusual timing going for them, so maybe we'll skip that.
Miss Emma and
Clyde have the same problem: the names are appropriate for an orange/white seedling, but I'm pretty sure there will be others.
Renegade reminds me of
that Lorenzo Lamas show. That could be a good thing or a bad thing, but
Breakin' The Law has the same basic meaning and doesn't come with Lorenzo Lamas (now Lorenzo Lamas-Craig
5) baggage, so I can drop
Renegade without losing anything.
So that leaves us with
Breakin' The Law,
Vamos A La Playa, and
Sun and Snow.
Vamos A La Playa is longer to say (six syllables, to
Breakin' The Law's four), and however appropriate the colors might be for
Sun and Snow, I've wanted a
Breakin' The Law for a long time now,
6 plus it satisfies my long-standing desire to have a
Beavis and Butthead-related name, so seedling 200A is going to be
Breakin' The Law.
The
Anthuriums have the blog booked up through mid-October, so there's no telling when the next
Schlumbergera post might appear, but this
might be the year we start seeing blooms from parents
other than 'Caribbean Dancer.' So perhaps the ongoing nightmare of orangeness will end.
7
As a side note, I've been trying to figure out how many seedlings to pot up from each of the many batches of seeds I've started, because if I've learned anything from the 'Caribbean Dancer' seedlings, it's that there's a point of diminishing returns, where potting up additional seedlings from the same batch winds up giving you more of the same thing.
8 In an effort to have a reasonable guess as to where that diminishing-returns line is, I wound up in unfamiliar mathematical territory and wound up having to
ask MetaFilter for help. I'm making all kinds of assumptions -- genetic, aesthetic, mathematical -- and some of them are almost certainly not valid assumptions to be making,
but, if I assume that all the seedlings from the first 114 pots are from the same 'Caribbean Dancer' x NOID peach cross, and that this resulted in 13 distinct categories of seedling colors,
9 and that every subsequent batch of seedlings will be exactly as variable and in the same proportions, I wind up with this:
If I want ____ unique colorations, I have to pot up _____ seedlings
1; 1
2; 2
3; 3 or 4
4; 5 or 6
5; 7 or 8
6; 9 to 11
7; 12 to 14
8; 15 to 18
9; 19 to 23
10; 24 to 29
11; 30 to 38
12; 39 to 55
13; 56+
Based on the amount of space I have, and that math, I'm planning on trying to do 16 seedlings from each group. That works out to a nice even half-flat per cross, and ought to give me eight distinct colors. Two seedlings per new color combination (on average) doesn't seem like an unreasonable effort-to-reward ratio, and sixteen seedlings is still enough to reveal how far off my assumptions actually are. I'll have to be pretty selective, still, about which fruits I harvest seeds from, but . . . it's a place to start. And in 2019, I'll be able to tell you how that worked out for me, I guess.
Also: I said earlier this year that I was going to be starting cuttings from various seedlings and maybe offering them for sale later. This is technically true, in that I did start cuttings of some of them, and if you want to buy any, I'll let you, but I'm not going to make a big deal out of offering them, and it's late enough in the year that the mailing window is pretty short. So your reward for making it to the end of the post is that you get to find this out. Prices are as previously: one plant (usually but not always three rooted cuttings in a 2" x 2" pot
10) for $7, two for $11, four for $22, six for $33, odd numbers discouraged but allowable.
E-mail me to find out which plants are available and make arrangements to receive them.
11 Continental U.S. only, first come first serve, limited numbers available, if you have questions then ask, etc.
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