After the glories of Kew, I have a confession. Me and orchids don’t get on. Don’t get me wrong, I love ’em. I just can’t keep them. No matter how much effort I make, they just don’t stay. They eventually get carted off to my sister’s orchid hospital kitchen. She is some kind of miracle-worker who can resurrect virtually any orchid and have it flowering within months yet when I ask her what she did, doesn’t seem to know…

Take this un-named Cymbidium. When I bought it in 2014,  you could hardly see the nasty black pot for the cascades of flowers tumbling down the sides. It didn’t flower in 2015 and 2016 I just got a couple of token blooms. Since then it’s sulked. It’s green enough, but seems to lack enthusiasm for anything else.

I am determined that this year it will repeat that 2014 splendour (why didn’t I photograph it in all it’s glory? Heaven knows…) It lives in my unheated conservatory, north-east facing, but I understand that’s not an issue.

I flush it through with boiled water once a week, but I haven’t been feeding it. Last week I was sent a sample Baby Bio orchid drip feeder. You’re supposed to stick one in per month. Well, I’ve popped the first one in; we’ll see how it looks in a month and I’ll decide whether to continue the dose.

They also gave me a spray that is supposed to go on the roots and leaves, the idea being that it adds both food and to the general humidity. I’m giving that a go, too.

What’s to lose?

Hopefully blossom will cascade down the sides of the nasty black pot once more, like I half-got in 2016:

Watch this space