This past week on Facebook, we had a dahlia giveaway and asked people to comment on what their favorite flower is and why.
We received a lot of interesting answers and it got me thinking about the emotional connection that we have to flowers that we don’t even realize are lurking in the shadows of our subconscious. Most of the comments were about how favorite a flower was because it reminded them of someone.
When people ask why we’re growing flowers, I can’t really give them a solid answer. But the more I grow and the more I talk to people, I’m beginning to better understand my own answer.
I got to grow up with my grandparents living just a bike-ride away from me. The country blue, three story Victorian house seemed to be the most magical place as a child and was bursting at the seams with flowers. Every nook and cranny was filled with some sort of unusual plant placed by my Master Gardener grandmother. I’d spend hours running through the gardens, but my favorite spot was the really shady north end of the house…where the lily of the valley were. Their sweet fragrance filled the air every May and Grandmom would let me pick as many lily of the valley as I wanted (she would also let me slurp the milk out of the bottom of my cereal bowl at breakfast and explain we don’t do that in restaurants like it was a coveted, special treat). Those lily of the valley were actually the coveted, special treat. Their existence fleeting, so pick them all while they were still so sweet.
My mother grew them at her house too. I would pick fist-fulls and present them to her like I just found the world’s rarest diamond and then place them in an old prescription bottle as the vase (it was the smallest container that would keep the flowers bunched).
So when the time came for me to pick flowers to carry down the aisle at my wedding, there was no question as to what flower I would hold. Being 23 and only a few years out of college, I couldn’t afford the real thing from Holland, but the florist suggested I could use cheaper, silk lily of the valley and mix it in with fresh flowers. I carried the flower, because I felt like I was carrying mom and Grandmom with me down the aisle to the next part of my life. Before starting this farm, my husband would buy me flowers for our wedding anniversary every year and ask the florist to stick fake lily of the valley in the bouquet. I’ve gathered my fake lily of the valley from my wedding and wedding anniversaries and they sit on my desk. They’re fake, but every time I look at them, I’m reminded of my childhood; running to the patch and filling my hands with as many stems as I could and giving them to the people I loved the most.
So what is it about flowers that hold memories for us? Is it the scent? Is it because flowers are used for the big moments in life? Or because they’re also used for “just because” moments? So you see, it’s hard to explain why we grow flowers, because it’s hard to sum it up in a few words. Like love, if you could easily sum it up or explain it, then it wouldn’t be special.
Do you need something special for your upcoming Labor Day weekend gathering to impress your family and friends? Or do you need the perfect host gift? Then, boy do we have something for you!
Purchase our labor day special “Honey and the Dahlias”. For $35, receive: a stunning dahlia bouquet centerpiece in a 5” square gathered vase. Each bouquet contains 2-3 dahlias (depending on flower size) along with filler all grown at Finding Eminence Farm and a package of Stockade Apiary comb honey that is the perfect spread for a cheese and cracker plate.
Not interested in both? Purchase comb honey for $14/package or a dahlia bouquet for $25.
Packages can be picked up during the following times:
Saturday, September 5, 2015 | 9:00 a.m. – 12:00 p.m.
Sunday, September 6, 2015 | 9: 00 a.m. – 12: 00 p.m.
To purchase a package or parts of the package, fill out the form below to order or send an email to email@example.com. To allow time for us to pick and re-hydrate the flowers, please place all orders by 6:00 p.m. on Friday, September 4, 2015.