Busy weekend coming up.

There's an orchid show in town, and I'm so looking forward to going. My mom raised orchids when I was growing up, and our house was surrounded by pots and pots of orchids. My mom is too old to care for her garden and she ended up selling most of her plants, but I still have good memories of spending ours looking at these strange looking flowers.

Orchid collecting can become an obsesssion, and take over your life. Orchids need a lot of care, and you can get into collecting all the different varieties. There's the time you spend trying to diagnose them when they're sick, and the best potting soil for them. Then there's the expense. It's an expensive hobby, with the cost of the plants, the pots, the special potting soil, the fertilizer, etc.

My mom was really into it, and spent hours potting and repotting her orchids, fertilizing and watering them, and then going to orchid shows or friend's houses to look at their collections. When I was little, I used to think that my mother's orchids meant more to her than I did. She spent way more time with them than with me. I used to wonder if she had names for them, but I was afraid to ask her.

I'm sure orchid care was easier for her than child care. At least orchids didn't talk back, do wrong things, disappoint her, or whatever. Orchids were always beautiful and you didn't have to tell them that they looked too fat or freak out that they were wearing the wrong clothes or needed therapy because their problems were just too much for you to handle, because you're the type who's too reserved, too stiff upper lip, too emotionally frozen to ever discuss unseemly things like feelings and emotions.

No, I'm not bitter about my mother. I've resolved her reluctance for motherhood, and now that I've spent thousands of dollars in therapy and growth and development courses, I can understand why orchids were infinitely more appealing to her than her own children. I can go to an orchid show, and have good memories, because orchids are beautiful flowers, but that doesn't mean I don't remember the effect orchids have had on my life.

Then there's a Tulip Festival at Pier 39 that I'm going to attend. The last time I went to the Pier 39 Tulip festival I was with my friend Amy, who died a coupld of years of a brain tumor. We had so much fun that day, although poor Amy was so sick and walked very slowly and was already starting to lose her balance and mind. That day was of the last good times we had, before the illness started to take over her life and eventually take her life. I love tulips, and during tulip season I buy tulips every week. They were the only flowers I could draw when I was little, and I love that what I drew on paper looks the same in real life.