A year and a half ago, Garry bought me a pot of bright magenta orchids. It was our anniversary. They bloomed for months. They regrew just in time for my birthday in March and continued to bloom for weeks. Then they went to sleep. They started to regrow a couple of months ago. I want to tie them keep them upright and managed to break two of them. After that, I gave up trying to do anything. I gave them fertilizer, watered them when they got dry. I did see a couple of new shoots, but I didn’t touch them. I figured I’d just break them again. A few days ago, Owen asked me if I’d noticed that the orchids had a tall shoot with a whole lot of buds on it.
“It does? Where?” The shoot was hiding in the ivy in an adjacent plant. That was just a few days ago and today, I was looking at birds and I realized that one of those buds was blooming and the others look like they are going to open soon. There are three more shoots trying to replace the ones I broke while trying to stake them. I promised it I would never try to interfere with it again. One of the side effects of having arthritic hands is that delicate operations are harder to perform. I’m also a lot clumsier. I trip more easily. I cut myself. I have to sit down to put on clothing or I fall over.
So I sit more, walk less and life goes on. Given one thing and another, I think being alive is a big deal all by itself. If I have to sit to get my legs into the jeans, I think I can survive that. Meanwhile, the orchids are beautiful. This has got to presage a better year to come, right?