Summer may be ending in Cape May, but the flowers and farm work are not. Tiny seedlings, winter wreath plans, Valentine’s tulips, and a few rediscovered hobbies are all part of the season ahead.
A holiday week filled with family visits and an extraordinarily generous gift reminded us that a small flower farm grows through the support of an entire village.
We traveled through rural New Jersey to pick up six new Quick Fire Fab hydrangeas and were reminded of an important lesson: the smallest perennial isn’t always the most economical choice.
An ordinary phone call to our Cape May flower farm turned into a reunion I never saw coming. They were simply looking for flowers, but somehow the flowers led them back to me after nearly 30 years.
One ordinary car ride made me realize something I wasn't quite prepared for: my children had quietly taken over the driver's seat. That simple moment led me to think about parenting, flower farming, and how every season of life eventually asks us to let go.
One conversation after another, I kept hearing the same simple phrase: "Flowers make me happy." A new mom returning to work after maternity leave. Someone treating herself after a stressful week. A hostess bringing beauty to a dinner party. Their stories reminded me that flowers aren't just for special occasions—they're little moments of joy we choose to bring into our everyday lives. As a flower farmer, those conversations changed the way I think about every bouquet that leaves our farm.
Sometimes it takes a complete stranger to point out something you've stopped seeing. A few viral videos made me laugh... and then unexpectedly changed the way I looked at both my farm and my everyday life.
The kids were home for the weekend, and I thought we were making the most of our time together. We shared meals, went about our days, and settled into familiar routines. But as they packed up to leave, I realized something important had been missing all along. Sometimes the busiest part of life isn't what steals our attention—it's the habits we don't even notice
When both of our kids came home for the weekend, the farm felt a little fuller—and the kitchen became a lot more complicated. Between picky eaters, apartment hunting in New York City, and the daily challenges of growing flowers, I found myself reflecting on how often flexibility matters in both farming and life.
What do you do when something you’re building feels like it’s not working? A real story from our Cape May flower farm on mindset, persistence, and what changed everything.
