The first serious frost came last night, and with it, the end of all the beautiful flowers that have been blooming their hearts out all summer. Still riding high on the immense pleasure that growing and selling my own flowers has given me, I am already plotting and dreaming about what next season’s crops will be.
A self proclaimed flaky farmer (my dahlias didn’t get into the ground until late June!) and I totally botched the sweet peas- I struggle, as I suspect other florist farmers do to keep on top of everything. I know now that to be able to get anything planted in May (a reliably busy flowering month) I need help. Starting seeds is another weak point for me, or rather watching over them, insuring they aren’t too dry, not too wet, etc. Last year my dahlias were not sorted as well as they should have been, resulting in a somewhat charming (Oh! So there you are, A la Mode!) but actually rather irritating dahlia hodgepodge. From a harvesting perspective it wasn’t actually charming at all. In the last few weeks I’ve labeled them all, and intend not to jumble my tubers ever again.
Nevertheless, as my friend Jennie Love says, once you’ve experienced what it is to plant and harvest your own flowers, you can never go back. And she’s right, it seems I can’t, or wouldn’t want to. In the coming week I will begin the wholly not glamorous, but satisfying nonetheless business of digging up those tubers and putting them to bed. Then I will start compiling lists and dreaming of the season to come.
The beautiful Gabriela (aka La Musa de las Flores) and an assortment of tulips from this spring.