As you now know, I’ve reached the point in my life where I’m very comfortable saying what I think.

Not in a mean way.

Just in a life is short and I no longer have the energy to pretend otherwise way.

This applies directly to gifts.

In our house, we’re pretty upfront. The general philosophy is: why be disappointed in a gift when you could’ve just told people what you wanted in the first place?

Also—and this might be controversial—I’m no longer convinced the best part of getting a gift is the surprise.

For me, the fun part is knowing something good is coming… and then waiting for it.

That I can’t wait until it gets here feeling.

The anticipation.
The light calendar-checking.
Much better.

So. Valentine’s Day.

Even though traditionally this is largely a holiday where the guys are expected to remember, plan, and execute (and many of them do!), these days plenty of women buy gifts for each other. Or for themselves. Honestly, who’s stopping you?

But let’s be real.

A lot of guys remember Valentine’s Day somewhere between February 13th at 9:42pm and February 14th at 7:15am. Often while brushing their teeth.

There’s a flower farmer I know who stocks her flowers at a hardware store for Valentine’s Day.

Strictly for the “oh no” crowd.

And every year?

They sell out.

Anyway.

If you’re on the receiving end this Valentine’s Day, tell him/her what you want. Better yet—buy it yourself.

And if you’re the one doing the gifting, keep reading. You’re welcome.

Yes, chocolate. Obviously.
Yes, a card. That would be nice.

But instead of a last-minute grocery store bouquet with flowers that look like they’ve been through something… ask for something better.

Ask for flowers that don’t exist yet.

Ask for the promise of flowers.

Here’s where we come in.

At our Cape May flower farm, we grow tulips and ranunculus—the good stuff. Seasonal, farm-grown, and absolutely not flown in from another continent in a cardboard box.

You don’t need flowers on Valentine’s Day.

You need the promise of flowers.

Because getting four (or eight) weeks of fresh, farm-grown blooms when winter is finally loosening its grip?

That’s a real gift.

And one you don’t have to pretend to like.

So if what you really want is a tulip subscription, a ranunculus subscription, or both—say it out loud.

If you don’t ask, they truly won’t know.

To make this very easy, I even wrote you a little script you can copy, paste, and send.

Gentle reminders encouraged.
Subtlety optional.

Hi love,

This Valentine’s Day, instead of you stressing about what to get me, here’s what I’d love.

Chocolate from (insert favorite place), a cute or funny card, and a flower subscription from Seashore Flower Farm.

I want the mini tulip subscription (or the mini ranunculus subscription, or both).

I don’t need actual flowers on Valentine’s Day—I’d rather have fresh, seasonal flowers from the farm when they’re ready.

Knowing I have weeks of flowers coming will make me very happy and generally pleasant to be around. 😍

(P.S. They’ll give you a heart-shaped dried flower ornament when you purchase, so you’ll still have something to physically hand me on Valentine’s Day.)

There are many ways to do Valentine’s Day.

This is just one of them.

And in my completely unbiased, extremely correct opinion—it’s a very good one.