I've always thought road side flower stands were so magical. I imagine a woman meandering thru a breezy garden. She's barefooted, with a coffee in one hand and basket of fresh cut blooms in the other. She wears a light sundress, a big floppy hat, and there are no weeds in site. I want to be that woman, I thought.
So this year, we tilled the beds, planted the flowers, built the stand, and now it's time. It's time for me to throw on my floppy hat, stroll through the rows and rows of sunflowers and fill my basket with the colors of Summer.
Then came the dirty truth of flower farming (if you want to call it that). It's hard work ya'll. There are no sweet sundresses in my closet, no floppy hats, and there are plenty of weeds to be picked. Not to mention there is not even a drop of coffee to be sipped because it's so damn hot outside. Lately it seems like the earlier I get up and get to work, the faster the heat rolls in.
Truth is, I love every single minute. In the morning when the world is a bit more still, I can hear the buzz of the fuzzy bottomed bumblebees, the rustle of a light wind through the rows, and some mornings I am lucky enough to actually see a hummingbird moth lap the nectar from the center of the brightest sunflower in the field.
When I am in the garden, I think of my grandpa and how proud he was of his giant sunnies. I think of how he showed me to care for them and how to harvest vegetables from his little patch of earth. When I am in the garden, I think about the Summers past when my Father-In-Law and our kids had a produce stand. I remember the taste of a watermelon cut open (right there in the field) and the smell of my hands after picking a row of tomatoes. When I am in the garden, I feel the love that those memories hold and I feel blessed to share them with you.
Although our little flower stand is far from perfect, I am so grateful for those who visit and enjoy our blooms as much as I do. It makes me smile to know that since we've opened, we already have "regulars" that make the choice to come back every week and snag a fresh bundle or two.
I have a lot to learn about this whole flower farming thing and I can't wait to see how it evolves over the seasons. But for now, I am contently covered in sweat and pollen, my hands are coated in nectar, and I am happy.