No Warning Farm

Golden

I can never see daffodils without hearing Wordsworth's poem. "Ten thousand saw I at a glance," he says about coming upon a field of them. We don't yet have that many, but it sort of felt like it when I was helping with the planting last fall. The good news is that pretty much every single bulb we stuck into the ground yielded a sprightly yellow bloom. Andrea is the force behind the flower operation at the farm, with peonies, roses, dahlias and others to follow according to their time. It's an expensive endeavor, but we've had requests from brides and so there is a market.I had long been aware of seasonality with food, but it was Andrea who expanded that awareness for me, looking with disgust at a vendor selling gerber daisies at our local farmer's market last summer; it's supposed to be a true local market, but these could not have been a Mason county crop, not that month, anyway. It's because of Andrea that I decorated my home with eucalyptus and douglas fir all winter, waiting for March to grace the table with flowers.

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