Florida Winter

For my northern friends, let me explain Florida winter. It does not adhere to a traditional calendar but shows up sporadically between late November and March. It comes in spurts of about two to ten days. While I enjoy any weather that allows us to turn off the air conditioner, there have been days when we go straight from AC to heat. It’s crazy down here.

Here’s the part that tests us – we must stay alert to the weather forecast for our outdoor plants’ sake because they aren’t used to freezing temperatures or frost. We actually bring some of our outdoor plants into the house to keep them warm. We also are known to cover plants with sheets or blankets to keep them from freezing or incurring frost damage.

My Florida backyard enduring winter, complete with pink flamingo statuary, frozen birdbath, and covered Camellias to protect the buds.

This could be avoided by planting native specimens particular to our plant hardiness zones, but those pretty tropicals are too tempting. Orlando is in Zone 9. One zone to the south of us and we’d be safe (for the most part), but we roll the dice and see what happens. Nurseries thrive on this.

We haven’t had a freeze here in a few years, so Thursday night was a literal shock to the system of our foliage. I made sure that all the sensitive plants were well-watered ahead of time. That helps keep the roots from freezing and can alleviate some damage to the plant, even if the leaves take a hit.

This brings me to what made me contemplate the way we prepare for winter down here. I already brought my orchids in because they don’t like it below 50-60 degrees at night (depending on the variety of orchid). I barely pay any attention to these guys when they aren’t blooming, and I do confess to leaving them outside when it’s too cold.

When they send out a shoot, I bring them in and enjoy them from bud to bloom. The blooms last for weeks, so it’s a good bang for your buck. After the last flower drops, I cut them down to the lowest knuckle and set them outside in an area that gets some, but not too much, sun. And then I forget about them.

After a good rain, I’ll remember them and pour off excess water, so they don’t keep wet feet, and then they are on their own. Periodically I check to see if they are sending out a shoot. I’ve had my current three orchids for several years, but one has been a problem child. The closest thing to corporal punishment for an orchid is repotting it. It doesn’t feel good at the time, but it should yield new growth.

Well, the one I bravely replanted last year looked pretty sad. It was bursting out of its pot and its roots were everywhere. The wood chips that support it had been washed away by our Florida rainstorms, and it couldn’t even stand up. It was pitiful. I was about to say a few kind words over it and throw it in the trash when I noticed. Two shoots had sprung from the root. How had I missed them? Even more than that, how had that plant lived after its horrible repotting, near drowning, and scorching with its roots exposed to the Florida sun for so many months?

I went to the laundry room to check the other two which I brought in a few days prior. They had new shoots, too! I know! I must have been very distracted when I brought them into the house, because surely, they were there at that time. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. I wasn’t looking for growth.

All of that to say, it made me think. How many times have I given up on something too soon? Or worse yet, given up on someone? How often have I put in effort that was short of the desired result and simply given up? Am I paying attention to my surroundings and the things that God calls me to do or to care for? Do I have eyes that see?

It also made me think about Jesus’ parable of the barren fig tree from Luke 13. I am fairly sure this isn’t the exact application of the parable, but it’s how it struck me. The fig tree hadn’t produced in three years, and the owner was ready to cut it down. The gardener asked for one more season to give that tree some love and attention – one more season for it to bear fruit. Jesus, ready to curse that tree, granted the gardener’s request. That alone is amazing.

As I pondered the gardener’s request, I wondered if he had realized that he could have done more for that fruitless fig tree. Maybe that motivated him to try one more time. Maybe that woke him up. I don’t know, and I also don’t know if his efforts for that next season bore fruit, but I assume he tried and did all he could.

This is as close to a stop-and-smell-the-roses story as I can give you today. Yes, I do smell the roses when I walk by, but they are showy and fragrant. My pitiful orchid was neither of those, yet it beckoned me to stop. I almost missed it. I’ll have to watch more carefully for those things in life that I’m not supposed to miss. I’m sure they are all around me. How about you? Life gets busy. Maybe we need to remind ourselves to slow down a bit.

Here’s my replanted orchid. I think I did a better job this time.

My orchid’s happy place is our bathroom, which gets the morning sun.

As I write, we just had a double dose of Florida winter with one temperate day in between. Now the big challenge is to get it warm enough in the house that our feet aren’t cold and that we don’t start sweating and have to step outside. Forced heat is not comfortable, but neither is being forced to be cold. Yep, that was my morning. Florida winter problems. It sure beats being up North.

It’s Springtime – Be Careful Out There

Busy bee on orange blossom. I wish you could smell this!

Bob goes to work. I stay home. I have no need to justify myself to my husband regarding what I do all day. It’s simply not necessary. He is an amazing man and the most supportive life partner (we’ll be married 45 years in August) I could have ever dreamed of having. Even my (imaginary) list of how many days I cook or what I prepare for dinner, which counts as cooking, is really only a joke. Okay, mostly a joke. Cooking isn’t my favorite. (Can we order pizza tonight, Bob?)

But after a particularly “grueling” week (read – I went outside), I decided to give him a list of the injuries I had inflicted on myself in the past seven days. I mean, you don’t get these kinds of boo-boos without exerting yourself.

  1. I burned my finger on the oven rack while cooking dinner. Yes, it was only a first-degree burn, but it hurt. A little. Bob was kind enough not to give me the third degree or rake me over the coals about it. He’s like that.
  2. I got another injury while pruning my roses. One of those nasty thorns ripped my finger. You could almost see the tear. I put a Band-Aid on it to bring attention to my suffering and possibly secure a dose of sympathy or an invitation to go out for dinner from Bob, I mean to keep it from snagging on things. (This was also risky since I’m sensitive to adhesive. I could have broken out, but I didn’t.)
  3. My hands went numb after I cut back a few too many hedges, including my roses. When we played pinochle later that night, I had difficulty holding the cards. This was weird even for me and lasted a day or so, but I have recovered. No Band-Aids were needed. I should note that I only worked around an hour, so this was more pitiful than anything else.
  4. I jammed my knee. This was not work-related. This was more stupid-related. I attempted to walk to our hot tub in the dark in order to soak my weary self after working in the yard. I walked smack into the metal edge of a stool. Since I could trace this back to working in the yard, I will count it.

After I lamented my injury-laden week to Bob, I said, “Just in case you wonder what I do around here all day. I’m active; you can’t get injuries without doing stuff.”

He replied, “Actually you can. They’re called bed sores.”

I’m not sure if he was implying anything here, but thankfully, my pride was not wounded.

Happy Spring! My azaleas are in bloom.

Lessons from my Orchid

Getting to the root of the problem: Are you too preoccupied with ugly roots to enjoy the beauty of the flower?

In January 2016 a Whole Foods opened near me, so I had to check it out. I had heard how expensive they were, but I also had heard how unique and beautiful the store was. I didn’t plan on buying anything, but you never know. It was a madhouse that day and I would have left empty-handed except for the orchids. Their grand-opening special was a beautiful potted Phalaenopsis orchid for $10.

I displayed it on my bathroom counter where it was very happy enjoying the morning sun. (Plant tip #1 – find a happy place for your plant and it will thank you.) The flowers greeted me every morning and they lasted a long time, much longer than any $10 bouquet I could have purchased. That’s my outlook on potted plants – if they give me at least a season of return and they never really thrive or bloom again, then that’s okay with me. It wasn’t a bad investment.

But this little guy is the little orchid that would and could and did. Here’s a picture of it today. It has looked like this for over a month. This is its third re-bloom and first double shoot. That’s amazing to me.

I like to look at this orchid face. It’s so cheery.

This weird root system supports the lovely plant.

A lesson from this beauty is that you can’t judge a plant by its root system. Its roots are messy and visible and they look like they need attention – not unlike myself after four weeks out from the hairdresser. Since I see this plant every day that it’s blooming, I really hardly notice the roots. I just look at the beautiful flowers. That is until I came home one day and discovered that a friend saw my plant and thought she would water it for me because the roots looked so dry. I tried to be nonchalant about this and told her that I had actually watered it that very morning. She couldn’t believe it and felt horrible. I told her no worries. I set it outside to help dry it out a little and reminded myself that, hey, it’s just a $10 plant.

Once a week I set this orchid in a couple of inches of water for 5 minutes – never watering it from the top. That’s it. Five minutes a week and this is what you get. Not only that, when the blooms fall off, I cut it back below a juicy knuckle (as my orchid-growing friend calls it) and set it outside in its outdoor happy place (remember I live in Florida), which gets some sun but not too much. I ignore it until it puts out another shoot. This has worked over the last three years. Nobody is more surprised than I am.

I’m sure I would have killed this by now if I tried to replant it to make those roots less conspicuous. The roots are part of its beauty. They’re weird-looking and provide a great contrast to the delicate-looking orchid. I have cut back some dead ones before (they look brown and papery), but that’s it.

I know you may be expecting some kind of humor here, but the funny thing is that people look at me as some kind of an orchid expert when the truth is I just ask questions, read labels, and moved the plant around until I found its happy place. Plants have them just like people do.

 

This is Post #6 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge to post every day in April.