workers

I'm always amazed, and somewhat intimidated, when I hear other farmers talk about how their kids are out in the field with them working happily by their sides day in and day out. while I harbor dreams of blissful family unity and boys who love to be with me learning the ethics of hard work, the truth is they want nothing to do with outdoor work.

perhaps it's the urban imprint from having spent their formative years walking over a mile to the nearest green space. perhaps it's that I'm more inclined to put my head down and do things myself, my reservoir of patience running low in the heat of the season. perhaps I'm too soft or they're too lazy. whatever the reason, it makes me sad that getting them to help is such a challenge.

my oldest son began going to farmers markets with me when he was seven. now 9, he's got two years under his belt and has gone from climbing all over the car, hanging out with the other vendors and eating his way through the market, to loading and unloading buckets, helping put up the tent, and designing tight, beautiful bouquets. In fact, he's gotten so confident in his design skills, he now feels free to correct me on my flower choices and style.

my middle son will happily work as long as he gets paid. the bucket washing? $.10/bucket. or an hour of ipad time. he'll do just about anything for an hour of ipad time.

the baby, curious and willing, loves to help with tasks as long as it's done his way.

he helped me seed 1000 sunflowers one afternoon, joyfully filling flats with his little shovel and meticulously putting one seed in each hole.

but he also wanders off and disappears and I spend several long, frantic minutes racing around making sure he's safe. we've thought of getting livestock fencing and setting up a playpen farm-style so he'll stay contained and out of danger.

in the meantime, I'll just keep trudging ahead, encouraging their participation, keeping faith that the small victories are paving the way to life lessons down the road.

erin gets married

I met erin at the sakonnet growers market in tiverton, rhode island my first summer farming and selling flowers. she was a loyal customer, and when she approached me last summer and asked if I would do the flowers for her wedding I was delighted.

she was very attached to yellow, and wanted big yellow flowers in her bouquet and wore a similar blossom in her hair that matched her yellow shoes. her fiancee, derek, however, was adamant that he have a cranberry flower in his boutenniere.

the bridesmaids were wearing sea glass colors. 

with my trusty sister by my side, we made it work using both the nigella flowers and pods to pull together the blue and cranberry. I located yellow tree peony flowers (which I told erin would be next to impossible to find!) and an explosion of feverfew from the garden worked well with cranberry ranunculus, yellow calla lilies and white peonies. I added pea tendrils for flair, and scented geranium leaves for softness.

I have to admit, I was completely smitten with the bride's bouquet.

erin and derek collected bottles and jars to mix and match on the reception tables. a seemingly innocent and easy concept turned out to be a lot more work than I expected.

the wedding was at the north beach clubhouse at narragansett beach, and the flowers added just the right amount of color to the nautically inspired room.

a beautiful affair. congratulations erin and derek!

welcome

me oh my. it's a bit nuts around here. it's amazing how each day unfolds into its own novella; sometimes a sweet, simple story, sometimes an epic. there is no monotony, no two days alike. no one can complain about boredom or routine.
and then there's this thing called the weather.

I've only been doing this flower farming thing for a few years, and each year brings experience, growth and confidence. this year, I'm walking around each day fretting that I don't have any flowers. I look at the meticulously planted beds, shake my head and rationally know that's not true, we've had to dig new beds, for god's sake, and not everything is even in yet, but nothing in the field is growing, let alone blooming.

I should say, nothing planted this year...

...the peonies, however, are spectacular.