:: kæləŋˈkoʊ … kal-un-KOH-ee … kal-un-kee
Upon seeing the true pronunciation written, black on white, I’m afraid my lower jaw truly did hit my chest. Kalanchoe is pronounced how??? That's it! I will never trust my trusty dictionary again! Mind you I have a history being widely off the mark with my pronunciations. For years I 'kned' my bread instead of kneading it. (And wouldn’t you know it! That is the only one I can remember after a life time of learning new words from books! I know I was covered with embarrassment many a time having misspoke a word... the way others look at you!) One word is commonly misspoken where I grew up (northern British Columbia, Canada) - shone - everyone I know pronounces it 'shawn' yet throne is throne. Strange, eh? It surprised me to discover people really do pronounce it shone! Back to the ‘kalunkohee’.
Over the years I have never been successful in keeping kalanchoe alive, let alone bring a plant back into bloom. This one originated from three very weak cutting taken from a plant about to expire. Without much hope they were put into water to root (or rot); eventually placed in a pot containing mediocre soil. In a little while it was edged out of the big sunny bay window by baby plants destine for the greenhouse. So out to the greenhouse it went where the nightly temperatures were barely above freezing. All this to say, no loving care, irregular watering and a summer of being under foot no matter where I put the pot.
After the greenhouse was closed for the winter I put the plant in our bedroom’s small bay window. We were growing tomatoes under lights in the dining room bay window, so again the poor thing was relegated to third best place for a plant to be. Or so I thought. In the new year tiny flower buds slowly made their appearance. I thought they would never open! Wow, how beautiful!
So, is the lesson to be learned: extreme temperatures, poor soil, irregular water, a kick in the pot a time or two?
Reminds me of my Dad. For years he won awards for his gladiolas in the Dawson Creek Fall Fair. After winning a permanent trophy, a sweet little grey-haired lady asked him for his secret. Dad got all serious, leaned towards her and said, “I threaten them with a blow torch.” I will never forget how fast a shocked look leap across her face. That's my Dad! ;)
And on that hot note, bye for now,
Zuzia,
Enjoy the green of life around you, (minus hot implements of destruction)
Stay Calm, Be Brave, Treasure Green Growth!! With love,
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jgs / |`= the Little Brown Bird