Wordless definitions: abundance

Actually, I considered using this picture for the definition "envy," because any time my mom sees how my orchids are doing she complains that her plants don't bloom like mine do. As you can see on the bottom shelf, all three of my phalaenopsis orchids have inflorescences (stems with blossoms), and plenty of them. Old Faithful on the far right, which I bought at Sam's Club of all places, blooms every year with several flowers and this year is giving me a ridiculous four branches on the same stem. My newest phalaenopsis (the one in the middle), if you look near the bamboo stalk pointing up, has a couple of buds on its stem. And you probably can't see that the phalaenopsis on the left has a second stem parallel to the floor, in addition to the one that's grown vertically to the shelf above it. Because phalaenopsis blooms usually last several weeks in my house, I'm going to have a ton of blooms soon.

Of course, the flowers that really got me excited belong to the laeliocattleya (an artificial hybrid of cattleyas) on the top shelf. Not only is it a gorgeous color, but cattleyas and their hybrids have also proven harder for me to get to bloom at home. I usually buy one in bloom, and then it sits there for a few years, stubbornly withholding blossoms, often until it withers and dies. (Mortality rate for cattleyas in my house is not good; they are not as idiot-proof as phalaenopses, unfortunately.) But this one I bought last spring, so the fact that it's blooming a year later is cause for celebration. The blooms won't last as long, but it's enough to bring some cheer into my flowerless March.