This batch of Echinocactus grusonii seedlings sown in 2006 are destined for the Gardeners’ Weekend held in King’s Heath Park on the 30th and 31st of August, where they’ll be sitting among plants for sale from other members of the Birmingham Branch of the British Cactus and Succulent Society.

I’ve read that the capillary action of rhipsalis is quite poor if they are grown normally and that this method, with the roots above the stems of the plants, keeps them much happier. Time will tell…

It does seem to be behaving slightly differently to a single-joint piece of Puna bonnieae that I’ve rooted. It seems to have diverted most of its energy into the production of a tuber, and has shown no signs of vegetative growth this year, although it’s clearly reasonably happy and plump. The clavarioides is on the left, of course.

All three of these cuttings were received towards the end of last year, and it’s only in the past month that they have done anything other than sitting there grinning.

As quite often happens (I have an Airampoa erectoclada cutting currently doing the same thing) the Airampoa nigrispina pictured below came into growth before rooting.

From left to right: Tephrocactus weberi, Cumulopuntia sphaerica, and Airampoa nigrispina.

Quite where it had been growing, I’m not sure, but it clearly hadn’t had enough light.

If you think the basal joints are elongated you should have seen the top growth that I pruned off it!

However, it’s obviously a pretty robust specimen as just a few weeks later it has sprung into growth, and this time round it’s up on the top shelf, and the new segments are that pleasing egg-shape that they’re supposed to be.

For contrast, here’s a plant that I’ve had for years, bought directly from René Geissler himself, which I’ve grown in strong light throughout. As a result its habit is far more compact.

On the left, Selenicereus spinulosus, with a fruit from last year, and on the right, S. "pteranthus".

It’s reassuring when a plant as slow-growing as Ariocarpus scapharostris is very obviously in growth, showing the lovely fresh green colour of a new tubercle. It will of course be a good long while before these tubercles reach their full size, but at least it’s moving!

Given that I nearly managed to cook these little plants when I first transferred them to the greenhouse I’ve been pleased with their progress. I’m still pushing them along with regular watering - in fact, to be honest, I’m not really letting them dry out. For scale, that’s a 2" pot.

Until I came across this book by borrowing it from the library of my local branch of the BCSS, I had never before come across anything with such detailed cultivation advice for opuntioids.

I was sufficiently impressed with Michael Kießling’s work on this book that I was moved to order my own copy (from Uhlig Kakteen, who got it to me in impressive time).

What you get for your money is a really spectacular set of photographs illustrating a broad cross-section of (mostly) dwarf opuntioids, with cultivation advice given on a per-species basis, and particular attention paid to the treatment needed to induce flowering.

Kießling also provides some really helpful information on pests and diseases to which this group of plants is susceptible, including a bacterial disorder which has been puzzling me for years. If you are interested in opuntioids in general I can’t recommend this book highly enough, even though some of the classifications used may now raise a few eyebrows in the light of the taxonomy in the New Cactus Lexicon.

I’d also strongly recommend visiting Michael’s website, www.tephrowelt.de for another feast of visual delights and a great selection of plants and cuttings for sale.

I received this cutting of Mahuenia patagonica, the other species now recognised in this rather enigmatic genus, a few months ago, before the parent plant had really had chance to fully hydrate itself. I wondered then whether it would oblige, and wasn’t at all surprised when the cutting began steadily to lose water mass.

I had been treating it the same way as I would a cutting of M. poeppigii, sitting it on top of a mixture of John Innes no. 2, cat litter, and grit, and watering it, and this clearly wasn’t working.

After a few weeks, I allowed it to dry out, and then left it to its own devices, fully expecting - as the base of the cutting had gone soft - that it would now slowly wither away and die.

Drying it out seemed to do the trick - the cutting now has the beginning of small roots showing, despite looking thoroughly dead.

One thing I would certainly recommend with this species is removing the lower spines of any joint before attempting to root it; they are quite stiff and you will probably need secateurs to do it, but it’s worth the effort as it will sit far more happily in its pot that way.

Here is my plant of Pterocactus kuntzei resuming growth after flowering.

You can see that the new stems are forming around the edges of the end of the terminal flower stem. Whether or not these too will flower remains to be seen.

Following the advice in Michael Kießling’s Tephrocactus und andere Fiegenkakteen I’ve been watering my pterocacti more as well, and they’re certainly responding. I’m growing a much smaller plant of P. tuberosus (now considered synonymous with P. kuntzei) in just a 2″ pot at the moment; it started this growing season with very little by way of tuber, so I’ve been watering fairly generously to see just how much root growth it can put on in a year. I suspect I may well be in for a surprise.

In other opuntioid news, I discovered last night that my Opuntia arenaria, which grows outdoors, has a flower bud on it. Not bad for a plant that consists of a single pad!

In their seed tray they’re well-camouflaged from a distance (and, annoyingly, easy pickings for slugs - there’s slug-bait down now!) and it’s hard to believe that they’re only four months old, and that they were just little green blobs back in March.

They’re thirsty little plants, and aren’t particularly succulent above-ground; they do, though, have thick fleshy roots for water storage.

At the other end of the spectrum is this delosperma, sold in a local garden centre as Delosperma sutherlandii, although it’s almost certainly a cultivar of some sort. No matter - it’s a wonderful display.

Sadly a Turbinicarpus alonsoi degrafted at the same time simply withered away.