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.