The Orchid Whisperer (?)

Fig. 1 My prized monster orchid, Aishvarya, embraces me

Anyone who's ever heard that I collect/grow/obsess over orchids has said one of two things:

1) Aren't they hard to take care of? 

2) Maybe you can fix mine; I think it's dead.

My answers are always:

A) Not if you know what you're doing.

B) Everyone kills their first orchid. And as good as I am, I cannot actually resurrect yours from the grave. I am an orchid saint, not Orchid Jesus.

When I was a kid, I bought a tiny plastic mini garden necklace from Target and grew one seed at a time around my neck. I kept a mobile garden of these babies in a red wagon with holes drilled into the bottom for drainage. I named every sprout like they were my children. I kept hydroponically-raised herbs and houseplants on my bedroom windowsill and actually did a science fair project about it.

Fig. 2 OMG I MISS HAVING THIS SO BAD I WANT IT BACK

When I went to college, I took with me a bonsai-sized tree I grew from seed that was a gift from a dear friend. I took a plant class and kept cloned weeds in tiny jars on my windowsill. When I became an adult, I rooted more houseplants and kept a potted kitchen garden by the pool for culinary purposes.

Obviously, something as botanically infamous as orchids were meant to be in my life. 

I did kill my first one. Classic beginner's mistake: overwatering. I rotted out the roots and by the time I noticed, it was too late. I had done my homework and everything, but I babied it way too much. I was convinced I was not meant to continue with this orchid curiosity.

Then my sister had a wedding reception for which she procured a live orchid for each guest table. At the end of the evening, my mom and I were obliged to take some home. I shrugged and said I'd try not to kill them.

The three orchids I adopted from those tables are still alive and well in my collection to this day. 

Fig.3 The Doctor's last regeneration April

Of course, in order to establish a sense of commitment and irrational personification, I dubbed them with beloved names. They were Holmes, Kirk, and The Doctor, which have turned out to be very appropriate labels for each. Holmes is lugubrious and self-absorbed, unwilling to bloom for me on a regular basis, preferring to be dark and mysterious. Kirk is very much the opposite with his flamboyant colors, scent, and dramatic and confident leaves.The Doctor is best of all, as he is always ready to regenerate with multiple branches of blossoms that have a different face every time.

I've learned a lot since 2008, and I will share many stories and tips and facts with you right here. I am happy to answer questions in comments. But one thing I know for certain about orchids is that they are very much like hobbits.

Fig. 5 Welcome to my imagination