Out with the old, in with the new

PC: Kayla Mari Photography

I knew starting a flower farm would require being open to trying everything, and then whittling it down to what works. Sure, some humans go into a new business venture with upmost clarity of what they envision for their long term plan. Me, I like to try it all. A friend and I often joke we excel at being mediocre at many things, versus focusing on being exceptional at one to two things. With that realization, I wholeheartedly endeavored to throw all the beautiful, sticky mud at the wall and see what sticks. That worked, until it didn’t work.

The 2023 and 2024 seasons ended with me being completely and utterly burned out. Perhaps you’ve noticed my typically cheerful and consistent social media presence faltered over the past month. Growing up on a farm—and marrying a farmer—all I’ve known is to completely dedicate oneself to the lifestyle and continue working, even when you are completely exhausted. We farmers are a stubborn breed. It probably doesn’t help that we live on the job site. There truly is no escape—unless there is a conceited effort.

So, here I am, just a girl standing before you, telling you I’m streamlining my offerings. For my business endurance (I loathe the word “sustainable”). For my family. For my mental health. For my time. I live in one of the most beautiful corners of the world, and I don’t even have time to enjoy it. That’s not right!

Aside from the Spring Tulip Subscription, I will not be offering any additional flower subscriptions. Ok, fine. There’s a chance I will be offering Dahlia Shares, but I’m not making that decision until I know how the crop is shaping up. Clearly, I’m still traumatized by the Great Dahlia Debacle of 2024. Y’know. The one where the season was hot and dry and all the dahlias in the north simply didn’t produce and every week I had extreme anxiety I wouldn’t be able to fulfill my orders—especially to my beloved subscription holders. Yeah. That one.

While I immensely enjoyed creating bouquets and sharing them with you, I realized it was an offering that needed to be culled. Making bouquets is a huge time suck. Albeit, a very beautiful time suck, but I was pulling too many late nights at the cooler trying to make bouquets after mom duties. Never fear, there are numerous extremely talented local growers offering bouquet subscriptions, please reach out if you’d like me to connect you to their subscriptions.

Subscriptions, gone. Mixed Market bouquets, gone. Market bunches of single varietals, TBD. I anticipate offering tulip bunches and dahlia bunches at local specialty markets this coming year. Potentially snapdragons as well. At the end of the season, I will evaluate each offering and determine if market bunches are worth continuing. What this means is the only reliable way the general public will be able to obtain my flowers in 2025 is through single varietal market bunches.

So, what will I be doing? Still growing plenty of beautiful flowers! Over the past three seasons, I have slowly narrowed my niche down to the wholesale market. Specifically, providing floral designers with premium quality cuts. This way, I am able to keep my input costs down (hello labor costs of making bouquets), while maximizing my time.

I really enjoy growing beautiful flowers. I really enjoy sitting on my deck listening to the band play at the neighboring wedding venue, knowing my beautiful flowers are gracing a couple’s best day ever. Also, I really enjoy the fact I didn’t have to do anything beyond growing the beautiful flowers. Ha! *Someday, I’d love to freelance in floral design, but for the time being, I’m going to focus my time on my young kids.

Over the year, I will explore new ways of getting my flowers into your hands—including collaborative events and an in-person dahlia tuber sale—as I truly enjoy sharing my story with you and seeing your reaction to my flowers in real time. Stay posted to learn more about any upcoming events.

Here’s the thing. I know I grow quality flowers. But, I also know I grow quality weeds and anxiety when I’m stretched too thin. By focusing on one sector of the fresh flower market, I’ll be able to scale back on my offerings (goodbye sunflowers), while ramping up production on higher end, premium cuts (hello fancy dahlias and roses).

I cannot begin to express how grateful I am for your support over the past several seasons. I look forward to continuing to share the beauty of my field with you—whether it’s through your favorite floral designer, Spring Tulip Subscriptions (those will go on sale around March), or through social media. Until then, keep dreaming of spring and the beauty it will bring.

PC: my dear friend, Lander