Embarkation

Today marks the inception of Allegretto Flower Farm; or, at least, the official inception.

*Unofficial logo*

I farmed flowers last year, on a smaller scale… I half-filled two garden rows, had no idea what I was getting myself into, didn’t have enough motivation to plant on time, had hardly any funds to get me started, or anywhere to take the flowers once they did bloom.

This year I have four rows--three in the back field, one in the vegetable garden for sweet peas and dahlias that I cajoled out of my parents. I have some idea of what’s going on, at least, a bit more knowledge of what not to do from what flat-out failed last year.

Now I have plenty of motivation, or at least a fire under me (whether I like it or not).

I had a few spare dollars to buy seeds, but not half enough for my enterprising goals this year, and so I’m going to have to make back what I borrowed from the “farm account”... and I can’t do that if I can’t get my butt out to the field to plant on time.

And now, lo and behold, I have people lined up to buy wholesale-ish from me, and a head full of fresh ideas on how to retail (peddle) what I have left.

I’ve looked at myself in the mirror and said “you’re crazy” to myself a few times in the past month. There’ve been more than a few panicked, whiny late-night texts to certain individuals who made the mistake of taking interest in my enterprise (by the way, thanks guys). There’ve already been doubtful days when I’m ready to throw my seed catalogues and neat little seeding charts into a bonfire.

So why am I going through with it?

Because I see a photo of someone holding a massive bucket of stock, or exploding rows of zinnias, or a bouquet whose colors make my heart ache.

Because I spend a lot of time dreaming, and in those dreams I see flowers: their fanciful textures, their heart-wrenching colors, how each one is unique, how they can be combined in a million ways, and they make me happy, and they remind me of their Creator.

In those dreams I can feel them in my hands, soft petals, rough stems, poking them carefully into vases; and I can smell them, thanks be to God for the intoxicating quality of sweet peas.

In those dreams I see sharing them with everyone I possibly can. And if I can bring someone an arrangement and watch their face light up, and see in someone else’s eyes the way that I feel about flowers, then it’s all worth it.

Hey look, I just wrote a manifesto. That was easy.

Nice words, there, but really, this is terrifying. I’m spending a few hundred on seeds, equipment, and other supplies, and hoping that

a.) Everything doesn’t die

b.) I’m doing this right

c.) I can figure out where/how to sell besides the couple of florists I have waiting

d.) I make at least enough to not be in debt

e.) I don’t burn out halfway through the year and just kind of collapse from the workload

What I’ve had to take into account is that business, especially agribusiness, is always risky. And so I’m taking some calculated-ish risks as I dive headfirst into this whole affair.

But it’s possible. It’s possible that I can build a successful, money-making, joy-bringing business out of a pile of seeds, some dirt, some other equipment, and my own two hands.

Farming is terrifying, business is terrifying, but it’s going to be so much fun--get used to hearing those particular phrases, because I’m going to be saying them a lot. But that’s what a blog is for, right?