I will kill this gift

My office was recently in a flutter when a box of roses arrived at our front desk, addressed to my co-worker, L. “For me?” she said. We gathered ’round, guessing at who might have sent them. We ruled out her nice but not flower-prone husband and sons, and decided that it must be a secret lover. Secret lovers make for good drama, so we spun a whole tale of this mysterious stranger and their illicit affair. You can imagine our disappointment when we learned the flowers were from a former student. A nice gesture, of course, but hardly the fantasy we had concocted.

So when I came back to my  office the other day to find a gorgeous plum-colored orchid on my desk—another student saying thanks—I was thrilled. And then I panicked. I’m not a big flower person, but I do love a nice plant. Everything I’d heard about orchids, however, led me to believe that they are tricky little devils, ready to keel over with one wrong move. It feels inevitable that I will kill the delicate flower. The accompanying directions felt inadequate, instructing me to water it only every 7-10 days. I tried to remember if I had read The Orchid Thief, but while I’m a huge Susan Orlean fan, I recall settling for the movie version, Adaptation, and that was of no help. 

Even before I embark on my research, my friend warned that they’re finicky about temperature, which is not good, since my apartment is an icebox. And the light requirements are a mystery; how do they feel about the sun? I will need to rely on the Interweb. I just hope I can get online before the bloom fades…

 

Please don't die. Please don't die.

Please don't die. Please don't die.

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2 thoughts on “I will kill this gift

  1. Your orchid tried to kill me. Well, maybe not kill. But since it left my eye has suspiciously returned to normal. I guess I finally found something I’m allergic to?

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