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Springs Arrival On the Farm

Navigating Change, Embracing Growth





Birds Eye farm view


Spring’s arriving whispers have turned into full-blown conversations on the farm, and boy, does it feel like things are suddenly moving at warp speed here.



Pluot branches budding

Now, there’s no rest for the wicked—by which I mean me, of course! The end of tulip season means it’s time to roll up the sleeves even higher with springs arrival on the farm. There’s cleanup to be done, late spring blooms to plant, and all the little green darlings that have been overwintering, waiting for their moment in the sun. And, of course, we’ve got the spring holidays right around the corner. Easter and Passover hold a special place in my heart, and I’m already dreaming up some spring holiday arrangements to mark the occasions.


Let’s take a stroll down farm update lane, shall we? This past fall and winter, we embarked on a garden redesign adventure. Transitioning from a veggie haven that fed my family to a place dedicated to flower production meant reassessing every inch of space. Too much was just, well, sitting there. A few lingering tasks remain before I can put my stamp of completion on the garden rebuild—drip irrigation topping that list. It’s all about conserving water and, frankly, giving me a break from playing hose tag.


There’s an exciting buzz around the farm with a hefty order of lisianthus plugs due next week, meaning there’s still a bit of planting to be done. But with only about an eighth of grow space to fill, we’ll have those beauties in the ground in no time.



Winter Tulips and Hellebores, 2024

Here’s where it gets real: soil tests. Yep, after years of hemming and hawing, I finally did it. Sent off for soil and paste tests and even brought in a soil scientist (that’s the term!) to decipher the results for me. It felt a bit like waiting for a doctor’s diagnosis on a loved one. Turns out, my soil is doing pretty okay, but there’s room for improvement. Who knew my composting efforts, while grand, weren’t quite cutting the mustard on the nitrogen front? And then there’s calcium—or the lack thereof. It explains a lot, like the splitting stems on my anemones that I’ve been scratching my head over. It’s a reminder that there’s always room to grow and improve, both in the garden and in ourselves. Now, armed with knowledge and a shopping list of amendments, I’m gearing up to give my soil and plants the boost they need. Just need to brace my wallet for the impact.

With the hustle of planting and amending underway, there are still those lingering chores. The unruly roses that escaped their winter trim, the impending arrival of 50 shrubs with nowhere to call home just yet, and a perennial bed that’s about to be uprooted. It’s a game of musical plants, with perennials being relocated to make way for the new kids on the block. It’s all hands on deck here, and while the to-do list might be daunting, the promise of what’s to come has me all kinds of excited.


Gay couple wedding at Rust Manor House in Leesburg VA

Now, let’s talk weddings—they’re blooming just as vigorously as the garden. The shift towards more design work, planning gardens around the weddings and events we’ve got on the books, it’s something else. And 2025 bookings are rolling in. It’s like watching a dream take root and flourish right before my eyes.


This shift feels significant, a marked turn in the farm’s journey. The future might bring changes—perhaps a move away from everyday flowers or scaling back on the big holidays to focus more on events. It’s a big “maybe,” but I’m here for it, ready to ride the wave and see where we end up. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that being open to change, to the ebb and flow of this business, is what keeps it so incredibly exciting.


So here’s to the unknown, to the shifts and turns of a life woven deeply with the cycles of the earth. Thanks for being part of this adventure with me. Here’s to seeing where this wild, wonderful journey takes us next!

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