Last days in Eugene

The last weeks in Eugene my knees shook with fear, nervousness, and excitement. I no longer had the comfort of the thought "I can always do it next week". I was overcome with the intense feeling... I wanted to finally do it all. I wanted to pick every flower I could, I wanted to snuggle with my cat, I wanted to drink all the wine, laugh with my roommates, and remember this place as what is had been: a place for learning. Of all types. If it had not have been for the University of Oregon, the Urban Garden, my incredible roommates and friends, I honestly do not think I would have wondered back down the rows of flowers, and picked the wildflowers. I would not have been able to find the inspiration without their help. The last two weeks at school were perfect. I sat in the sun, I saw my old friends, I made new ones, I danced, I giggled and picked and prepared the perfect amount of flowers to feel complete.

clippers and florals

The best thing about being back at the farm is bringing a pair of clippers in my back pocket where ever I please.
 When I was at school in Oregon, I kept a pair in my backpack because I was afraid of students or strangers thinking I may be armed for any other reason other than stealing neighborhood flowers. When I slyly pulled them out to clip the occasional rose or lavender sprig, I would have to do so with one eye over my shoulder and then quickly shove them back into the black hole of my backpack before continuing on my way. Here at Full Belly, it is completely normal to walk around with a pair of rusted clippers in your faded and scuffed pants or shorts pocket. And that, in its self is enough to make me stay here. Forever.

Grapes and green

 During the summer, the farm always reaches a point where one can easily just become increasingly overwhelmed with options. One day, you wake up and realize that you have at least 80 types of tomatoes to choose from, 15 melons to cut and taste, and four types peaches that may just tickle your fancy. It's during this time where it is easiest to corner yourself into what you know. If you are anything like me, instead of branching out, you find yourself making cucumber tomato salad for every meal, a zinnia and sunflower arrangement every day, and a delightfully plain slice of melon greets you in the morning. All of these become your staple without much thought. It takes more effort to try it all. To remember that the nectarines are also ripening on the vine, the figs are darkening on their branches, and the grapes... well the grapes are just invigorated with flavor and color. It's hard not to let it slip through your mind, the cracks or your tongue. This week I had off I made it my goal to get messy with those things I may not have even noticed. But, because there is just SO MUCH to choose from... I had to narrow it down a bit. On a little walk around the farm, I noticed the magical place on our farm where the blackberries, willow tree and grapes all meet. I got so inspired by just these colors, and sights that I decided to do a purple themed arrangement. This is what I came up with.

Practice Makes Perfect

In the brainstorming stage.

Setting up a demo table to show the bride.

Before they were set out on the tables

The finished product

Damn Peonies

Each time I see a peony, I secretly want to hate it. They are over used, over bright, and over beautiful. Let me stress that last bit again. THEY ARE SO GOD DAMN BEAUTIFUL. Uggh. They are more perfect than a small baby unicorn. 

My mother brought up at least four bunches when she came to visit me two weeks ago. They were scattered around the house, making our old warn down wood floors look sparkly and romantic, they transformed our kitchen into something out of a Martha Stewart magazine, and made our bathroom look like a freaking garden.

Well, due to laziness, and a bit of curiosity... (okay mostly laziness) I let them dry in their multiple vases around the house. Until today. I took one look at them in their vase, expecting them to be wilted, and brown... and scowled. Of course. If there's one flower that could look even better dried than fresh is would be these gals. 

So, instead fighting it any longer, I let them just do their thing. I picked them out of the water, scattered them on that dirty floor and took some photos of them just doing their thing. Damn peonies. You got me again.

Not Your Average Flower Crown

Bits of Daily Blooms