Plants and I? We don't have a good relationship. I blame it on not being home enough but it's not like they're pets. You don't have to walk them or pet them but you do need to feed them and I just forget. I once killed a cactus because of over watering (though really, I didn't kill it - it just never bloomed). There's definitely a green thumb in my family (have you seen my mother's roses?) but it wasn't passed down to me.

Imagine my great surprise when, a few weeks ago, one of my orchids which I assumed had run the course of its short blooming life for a while, started to grow a new arm loaded with blooms. And I don't mean one or two flowers but 7. Seven blooms. My god was this really my plant? I wasn't sure they were going to open but I've been diligent, paying a little extra attention to my baby, moving it when the sun is directly shinning on it, basically treating it like it's the last living plant in my home (which, for the record, it's not) and if you know anything about orchids, you know they're notoriously fussy plants.

Last week, some of the blooms started to open and yesterday, I thought it wise to take a few photos just to help me remember this occasion. The occasion in which I did not only not kill the plant but in which it actually bloomed.

Beauty ain't she?