5 years ago (maybe 6...) a lovely friend bought me an orchid. I kept it on my desk at work and when the flowers were gone, I took it home, put it on a shelf, and forgot about it for the next 4 years (maybe 5...). The orchid didn't do anything spectacular enough during that time to warrant my attention. It was a just another rubbish orchid that refused to re-flower. I assumed that it would slowly die, and when I considered it dead enough, I would simply throw it away.
But I didn't throw it away. It survived quietly on its neglected shelf, and now, well, you can see for yourself...
Enthralled as I'm assuming you must be in this chlorophyll-fuelled drama, I will tell you what happened:
Last Christmas, after a period of willful blindness, I noticed my orchid (P.S. I know that's not how the song goes). The rest I had granted myself over the holiday period had afforded me the energy to look at it. I mean really look at it. It wasn't pretty. It sat there sad and stunted; 3 very pale green leaves askew, a 4th slightly yellow and withering. With no memory of having ever knocked the plant over, the potting medium had curiously vanished. My poor orchid was being supported by the entangled mess of its own desiccated roots.
Having resigned myself to its death, I wasn't attached enough to feel grief, or shame. I just thought, "Well, no wonder you look the way you do. I've made a pretty shit go at looking after you, it's time I put a bit of effort in." So, that's what I did. It was a fairly minimal intervention to be honest. I bought a new pot, some orchid compost and spent some time carefully pruning the dead bits. After reading a bit about what orchids like, I moved the pot from the bookcase, to a spot in front of the bathroom window - lots of indirect light, somewhere a bit humid - and I waited.Read More