There are more ways to kill an orchid than there are to get one to actually stay alive, let alone bloom. They die if they don’t like their soil, or their water, or the amount of sun, or the amount of shade, or the environment in general, sometimes they die if they just plain don’t like you. Orchids are the pickiest plant in the world, and they would rather be dead, then put up with shit they don’t like. For those of the human race that can actually keep an orchid alive, you have been chosen, and you should be proud.
A woman I used to live with (who was, incidentally, a russian communist accountant) had a bunch of orchids in the kitchen.
Mark you, this was in Russia, in an apartment building where the heat inside was regulated by the council.
And somehow, this woman got her orchids not only to grow, but to flourish. So I’m making dinner one time, and I ask her what the secret is to growing orchids. She turns to me and says, in a voice as though she thinks I’m the most ignorant person to walk the earth:
“My dear, they are so easy. You don’t even have to work at them.”
I think that’s the point I became convinced she wasn’t 100% human.