So it's been two weeks on the job at The FloraCultural Society. I've been lost in a flurry of activity, holding meetings while making arrangements or running errands, and getting to see way more of my farmer friends who have been supplying the shop with the most interesting foraged and cultivated goodies.
Yesterday I bought my first bunch of flannel flower. Anna tucked some into an arrangement with a Beady Sunflower Center and it was perfect. I bought Spider mums and, ahem, Carnations, for the shop. That's what happens when I go to market. Our buckets were awash with browns and copper and I was a happy girl. Oh, and roses. Since visiting Fallon at Garden Valley Ranch last week I cannot stop thinking about roses. She sent me home with a big Jar of fully blown gems which I had happily clipped, and are now sitting on a ledge by my bed. Each night I've fallen asleep in a halo of heady fragrance and have been dreaming about all of the climbing rose varieties I want to get in the ground. Who knows, I'll probably kill them all, but after walking in Fallon's shadow for a day I'm feeling undeservedly fearless.
I'm home for 6 days to see my parents and attend a flower farmer conference in Delaware. Fresh off my red eye flight I found it hard to keep my eyes on the road this morning with all of the beautiful red, yellow, and golden brown turning leaves flanking the highway. First thing I wanted to do when I got out of the car was traipse off to the wooded creek by my mom's and clip branches to arrange at home. But my clippers were taken at security and my friend Steph responded Yes to a very early morning breakfast date request. So I drove down the street for scrambled eggs and rye toast and cute baby squeezing instead. Even better.