I haven't found a good name yet for the condition I suffer from. Well, suffer isn't exactly right either... it's more like an overwhelming desire that threatens to have victory over common sense, but when common sense wins the thwarted desire turns to pouting or obsession.
Floral obsession. Orchid Lust. Garden addiction. Flower fixation. Green thumb weakness. Potted-plant junkie. Take your pick, they all describe me to some extent. The thing is, my weakness for plants -orchids in particular- is not harmful to me, just to my savings. It is a rather innocent habit/addiction to have, and could be considered a hobby or fascination. Some folks have a weakness for gambling, narcotics, technology, television shows, soda pop, you name it. Me, I see a beautiful amaryllis, tulip, calla lily, orchid, etc. and I am hooked! Enchanted!
I love to help things grow, to watch cloaked beauty emerge, to discover the delights of something easily overlooked by the rest of the world. Someday, I wish to have a piece of property where I can garden to my heart's content, where I will never run out of space to plant things. A place with trees, fresh water, birds to coax to bird feeders, space for two big dogs to run around and kids to explore, trails to walk and places to get lost in thought.
For now, I am confined to the present container gardens indoors and the few bright things that come up outside in the spring. Among my potted greenery are four orchid plants, each a different variety. Two have bloomed once before (a year ago or more), and two remain that have not yet flowered. One of them, however, now has a flower stalk with two buds and the promise of more to come. I am thrilled! When I got this orchid it was a mere child, bought from the grower down the road. The mature plant on display was such a beauty that it was love at first sight. My own little Cymbidium is soon to remind me why I have invested two years in its care...Two years of anticipation. When it flowers, I will put its picture here as if I were a proud parent and this my first child.
Now, with winter well on its way and the weight of many exhausting days pulling me towards melancholy, this unexpected orchid bud is a living piece of hope. (If it dies, I will be quite depressed!) It may seem silly to fuss about such a thing, but think of it in metaphors; it is like a first kiss that one never knows when it will be given, or how beautiful a moment that will be.
Thus, for the love of orchids and other flora I pay a pretty penny and invest little bits of myself in their growth, their presence like that of good friends.
The store has a new shipment of orchids in, all of which are tempting (bonsai trees too, but they are a bit too expensive to trigger compulsive spending along with desire), but I will have to choose only one.... It would probably be better to go back to the grower in the spring and get some more babies for less expense. But right now, common sense will probably lose to Orchid Lust. And I will be delighted with the company of a new friend, a new jewel to care for. I will have to strategize about a place to put it though...there's a shortage of open space not already occupied by a green tenant (or books).
A note to the future Mr. Right: if you arrive at that romantic crossroads that calls for a dozen roses, get me an orchid instead! If it lives for 15 years, imagine how often I would think of you...
Floral obsession. Orchid Lust. Garden addiction. Flower fixation. Green thumb weakness. Potted-plant junkie. Take your pick, they all describe me to some extent. The thing is, my weakness for plants -orchids in particular- is not harmful to me, just to my savings. It is a rather innocent habit/addiction to have, and could be considered a hobby or fascination. Some folks have a weakness for gambling, narcotics, technology, television shows, soda pop, you name it. Me, I see a beautiful amaryllis, tulip, calla lily, orchid, etc. and I am hooked! Enchanted!
I love to help things grow, to watch cloaked beauty emerge, to discover the delights of something easily overlooked by the rest of the world. Someday, I wish to have a piece of property where I can garden to my heart's content, where I will never run out of space to plant things. A place with trees, fresh water, birds to coax to bird feeders, space for two big dogs to run around and kids to explore, trails to walk and places to get lost in thought.
For now, I am confined to the present container gardens indoors and the few bright things that come up outside in the spring. Among my potted greenery are four orchid plants, each a different variety. Two have bloomed once before (a year ago or more), and two remain that have not yet flowered. One of them, however, now has a flower stalk with two buds and the promise of more to come. I am thrilled! When I got this orchid it was a mere child, bought from the grower down the road. The mature plant on display was such a beauty that it was love at first sight. My own little Cymbidium is soon to remind me why I have invested two years in its care...Two years of anticipation. When it flowers, I will put its picture here as if I were a proud parent and this my first child.
Now, with winter well on its way and the weight of many exhausting days pulling me towards melancholy, this unexpected orchid bud is a living piece of hope. (If it dies, I will be quite depressed!) It may seem silly to fuss about such a thing, but think of it in metaphors; it is like a first kiss that one never knows when it will be given, or how beautiful a moment that will be.
Thus, for the love of orchids and other flora I pay a pretty penny and invest little bits of myself in their growth, their presence like that of good friends.
The store has a new shipment of orchids in, all of which are tempting (bonsai trees too, but they are a bit too expensive to trigger compulsive spending along with desire), but I will have to choose only one.... It would probably be better to go back to the grower in the spring and get some more babies for less expense. But right now, common sense will probably lose to Orchid Lust. And I will be delighted with the company of a new friend, a new jewel to care for. I will have to strategize about a place to put it though...there's a shortage of open space not already occupied by a green tenant (or books).
A note to the future Mr. Right: if you arrive at that romantic crossroads that calls for a dozen roses, get me an orchid instead! If it lives for 15 years, imagine how often I would think of you...
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