Always and Always, it is the Little Things

From 'The Origins of Moving Day'

Anyone who has ever moved house before (I've read about those people who live in the house they were born in and never move - can't relate) knows the chaos of that pile of 'what the hell did I put in that box marked 'kitchen' that doesn't have kitchen in it'. Along with, conversely, the pleasure of finding one thing often used, not really often seen just because it is so familiar. I'm relearning that and that is good.

Before I came to Culebra, moving was a way of life for me. Circumstances for moving could be boredom, curiosity, some place in some prettier spot, disasters,  relationships formed or undone or any of a few more things. I moved a lot. I became a brilliant packer and organizer of stuff and dragged around things like piles of beach found lumber (and yes, that 'one day' did come and I DID use it) or six sets of china or 30 boxes of books or all my condiments. 

(I finally gave up on the condiments, which made friends really happy since I was an addicted condiment queen. The fridges got smaller, my collections kept being bigger than the food itself. Traveling? Buy local deliciousness in a bottle or tin Addicts always have an excuse.)

Um, I'm digressing aren't I? Ok. That was then, this is now.

What sent me off on this tangent was my orchids. I noticed after I hung them up in their new space that the big purple one, the one I call the Francie orchid because of its big purple blooms, had three new buds on it. And my first thought was, NO IGUANAS!!! Oh my oh my.

Over the course of the last couple of days the buds opened; I think this morning's rain really kicked them into the last spreading of petals, greeting me this morning with a wide open hello. 

"Hello!"

A transplanted white orchid had started blooming before the move and it is still happy. Happy is good.

I use the word transplanted loosely. A stem had broken off and I stuck it in an empty planter with some old leaves. Then I needed rocks to hold the stem up along with keeping the whole thing from flying off the table in any wind. Orchid, she don't care.

Healthy happy roots

I've said before I don't really know much about orchids. I don't. I just spray them with water, tie them to trees, throw them in dirt or lay them on rocks and they grow. The big thing I do know is to have them in filtered light and Culebra is nice that way. There is always something giving shade to hang them from or tie them to and it works. 

So right now, while I'm between hither and yon, my orchids feel like home to me. When the houseboat becomes home, the Francie orchid will move up another hill, the rest will stay here and I will visit them, weirdly enough back where I got them from, two land/home owners ago. Those circle things of life keep on entertaining, though my circles are more like 

Fibonacci Sequence  

which is mathematically beautiful and even though it really is fairly simple it isn't to me. I do understand this though.

Circles and spirals of the fiddlehead.

And if you can understand that, you can understand.

Have a trust the transparent Thursday. Do something tubularly trial-ish.  Then triumph!