two weddings and a funeral

over the past two weekends i have done two weddings. meaning, i was the florist and arranged the bouquets, the centerpieces, the cakes, the corsages, the alter flowers, etc. both brides wanted organic, local flowers and that is how they found me. i used flowers from the farm and from the ditches on backcountry roads. i found the jackpot on valley grove road, on the way to an old church. it was full of queen anne's lace, swirling milkweed, and daisies. i cut from my own garden and my neighbor's gardens (i asked of course). i loved spending days in the field, cutting flowers, grasses, herbs and such to fill my house with enought plant material to pull off each wedding. one weekend was brutally hot. over 100 degrees. the next weekend was chilly and basically biblical flooding (ok, maybe that's a slight exageration). despite the weather, it was incredible. i felt so alive while arranging, despite getting up at 5am to start so the flowers would be fresh. i worked hard (as many of you know i'm a perfectionist) to get each bouquet and arrangment just right. after delivering each wedding i felt a huge surge of excitment, pride, and renewed sense of creativity. basically, i was in heaven.

and then sunday came. and it was back to work at the hospital. it smelled of death. literally and metaphorically. i think this part of me is dead. i feel that piece of my life coming to an end. sure it's a nice paycheck, but can it compare to pulling over on valley grove road at dusk to cut wild flowers? i don't even need to answer that. the flowers say it all.....