One day during the summer of 2006, J. said "The trees are getting in my space." Sure enough, several tendrils of one of the coleus vines was peeking around the blind, sending flowers in his direction.
I'd been thinking for awhile that much as I love the wild growth of these crazy plants, I was going to have to do something about them.
The first step was replacing the broken blind. Yes, I hated living with a blind I couldn't open, but I've been living with a lot of stuff lately.
Before I got the new blind, I impulsively took one cutting and rooted it a glass vase that was a keepsake from my cousin's wedding. It was there for about 2 weeks, during which time it grew a healthy crop of shaggy roots. With M.'s help I planted it in a terra cotta pot she had painted with tempera paint the winter we planted those little black beans that fall off East Village trees. Those died of forgot-to-water-it-itus. I'm not sure why, my plants seem not to be susceptible to that particular disease anymore. The potted cutting, which was fairly large, got the prime summer spot on the ledge outside the bathroom window. We agreed we should not give the next cuttings so much time to grow untidy roots before potting them.
Once the blind was replaced, I began taking cuttings. The first step was to cut back the rude plant that was invading my darling's environment. Most of the tops of the plants relocated to the now vacant vase with fresh water. The exception was the one that had formed a woody stem, which led to a vine terminating in a long flower.
By now I had done enough reading to know that when books and seed packets say coleus plants are grown for foliage, not flowers, that doesn't mean they don't flower, it just means most growers don't want the flowers, and pinch the buds off before the flower appears. I had also learned that my experience was typical for coleus beginners. Untended plants grown indoors tend to become "leggy." I even found a picture of
The Little Coleus Branch That Wanted to Be a Vine. I was intrigued that coleus seems to mimic other plants, the mockingbird of the plant kingdom. I read they sometimes form woody stems and behave like trees. It's possible to stake them to make them stand upright. I plan to try this with Woody, the one whose top I didn't cut back.
After I'd put the long unruly cuttings in the vase, I took smaller cuttings and put them in paper cups of water to root. I used the dinosaur paper cups left over from my daughter's 8th birthday party, which I bought because Party City didn't have any Darth Vader cups (the party's theme.)