Air Plants, Troll Dolls, and a Bit of Childhood Memory

I’ve been adding several new tillandsia species to my collection lately, and once they were all settled in, I realized I didn’t have a good way to display them. Air plants are unique because they don’t need soil, and that freedom makes them perfect for creative displays. For the other air plants in my collection, I had previously taken wire and twisted it into little hangers so they could dangle neatly in my orchid cabinets. It worked well enough, but these new ones had shapes that were different. They were mostly smaller and their leaves flare out in a way that looks almost like hair. Once I noticed that, the idea arrived all at once... Troll dolls, the plants could be their hair! It made me laugh, and once the idea settled, I knew what I had to do.

The Ara Pacis and the Accidental Shift of Volume II

When it comes to the next part of my orchid research, I told myself that I wouldn’t pick up Volume II until 2027. 

Now that my research was finally out there in the world, after pouring myself into the project for so long, I had decided that I needed a much-deserved break. I also know myself well enough to recognize that when I get interested in something, I tend to dive in with a kind of hyperfocus that doesn’t let go until I’ve learned everything I can. It’s a byproduct of having an ADHD brain—and while it’s a gift in research, it can also be exhausting.

Curley Cross Tavern: Finally Sharing My Orchid Display with the SCA Community

I had meant to finish and publish this post weeks ago, but like many things I start with good intentions, it ended up sitting half written until I finally remembered to come back to it. The day itself was meaningful enough that I did not want to leave the writing unfinished, so I returned to it and decided it was time to give the story the attention it deserved.

I packed the car the way I usually do for events, with a mix of intention and the kind of mild disorder that seems to follow me no matter how early I start. The orchid research boards went in first, then the Lego orchids, then the plants I planned to bring for the swap. My day basket followed, full of snacks, a notebook, business cards, and a few things I probably didn’t need but tossed in anyway. I added my folding chair and a cooler with ice, fruit, and drinks, since the forecast promised heat and I knew I’d be talking for a good part of the day. I felt that familiar combination of nerves and readiness that shows up whenever I’m about to share something new.

Cultivating Ecosystems: Why I Chose the IKEA Milsbo and Rudsta for My Orchid Collection

There comes a point in every orchid keeper’s life when the plants start taking over the house. One day you’re shifting a book to make room for a Phalaenopsis, and the next you’re standing in the middle of the living room wondering how everything filled up so fast. My orchids were doing fine, but the house was too dry and the air too still. I needed a space that could hold humidity without turning the room into a swamp, move air gently, and still feel like part of a home. That’s what pushed me toward IKEA greenhouse cabinets, and I started with one Milsbo and one Rudsta.

When I wrote about the holiday blooms in December 2024, the cabinets had only just come home with me. The Milsbo went into the living room and the Rudsta into my office. At that point they weren’t display pieces, they were just clean, glass‑and‑metal shelves ready to work. I set them up, moved the orchids in, and started paying attention to the basics: temperature, humidity, airflow, and how the light shifted across the shelves.

The Story That Keeps Growing: Reflections on Research and Display

There is a particular kind of nervous excitement that comes from taking something that has lived in your head for so long and placing it in front of other people. I spent about a week building the display board and the table cards, working right up until late Wednesday night. My Cricut and guillotine cutter earned their keep as I trimmed borders and backgrounds and tried to make the triptych feel like an invitation rather than a wall of information. By the end of the week my dining table looked like a small workshop, but the pieces finally felt ready.