From Desk to Dirt: An Unlikely Farmer’s Story
I never planned to become a flower farmer.
For most of my life, I was perfectly content being an indoor person. Give me a good book, a sewing project, or a new recipe to master, and I was happy. I built a career sitting at desks—first in publishing, then in instructional design. I was even terrified of bees. If you’d told me ten years ago that I’d spend my days knee-deep in flower fields, I would have laughed.
But life has a way of surprising us.
My grandmother planted the seeds—literally and figuratively.
My grandmother adored flowers. She grew all kinds, but roses were her specialty. Every week, she would cut and save her best blooms, and come Sunday, she’d walk into Sunday School carrying a vase of the most beautiful flowers you’d ever seen. Those flowers were her gift of love to her community. I adored my grandmother, and somewhere deep down, her love of flowers must have taken root in me.
I wish she could see me now, surrounded by blooms. She would have loved walking these rows, probably knowing every variety by its proper Latin name. I think of her every Sunday when I look at our roses.
Five years ago, everything changed.
I was sitting at my desk—another day of instructional design, another day indoors—when it hit me. I’d been inside for most of my life. I’d missed countless sunny days, changing seasons, the simple pleasure of dirt under my fingernails. They say sitting is worse than smoking, and I might as well have smoked 2 packs a day. I wanted to create something real, something beautiful, something that would get me outside.
That evening, I told my husband Carl about this wild idea: What if we started a flower farm? With his blessing (and probably some skepticism), we planted our first rows.
What started as an escape from my desk became a calling.
Flower farming changed everything. Not only did it get me outside—where I discovered I’m no longer terrified of bees, as long as they’re not wasps—but it connected me to people in the most beautiful way. There’s nothing quite like watching someone’s face light up when they see their wedding bouquet for the first time.
Every arrangement I create is part of someone’s story. Every bride who carries our flowers, every couple celebrating their 50th anniversary surrounded by our blooms, every family gathering made more beautiful—I’m honored to be part of these moments. Because we grow everything ourselves and work directly with our couples, we focus on quality, seasonality, and personal service—rather than mass production.
Today, our farm is truly a family affair.
Carl and I work the fields together as a true team. While I might be designing the arrangements, Carl has become our rose expert, spending hours perfecting those beds. He went from not knowing a dahlia from a daisy to being able to name every flower in our fields. He handles the watering when the Ohio sky won’t cooperate and has developed an engineer’s precision for garden bed layouts. We’re out there together—planting, weeding, harvesting—building something beautiful side by side.
Our daughter Grace brings her own artistry to our farm. Trained at the prestigious French Pastry School in Chicago, she creates wedding cake masterpieces. Her elaborate fondant cakes feature incredibly realistic gum paste flowers that she hand-forms petal by petal—keepsakes that last forever. For simpler cakes, we adorn them with our fresh flowers that perfectly match the bride’s bouquets and centerpieces. It’s a combination you won’t find anywhere else.
From my desk to your celebration.
Sometimes I laugh at the journey—from being an indoor girl afraid of bees to a flower farmer who can’t imagine any other life. But every morning when I walk our fields, planning the harvest for upcoming weddings, I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
My grandmother taught me that flowers are love made visible. Whether you’re planning a seasonal wedding or celebrating a meaningful milestone, we’d be honored to grow that love for you.
With dirty hands and a full heart,
MaryAnne
