June
May and June seem to have passed in a blur. I’ve really been trying to slow things down where I can, taking moments to sit in the garden and reflect on how far things have come. It feels quite special to look back on the journey of building Chalk&Oak Flowers over the past two years: from those early days of setting up, to this first full season of being open to the public and selling what I grow.
Much of the time before May was spent quietly behind the scenes;planning, organising, and managing all the administrative parts of the business. Alongside that, of course, came the real heart of it all: sowing seeds, nurturing young seedlings, potting on, and finally planting out into the cut flower beds.
Then May arrived with a shift into events and gatherings, which has been such a joy. June has followed with a lovely run of small weddings and orders, milk churn arrangements, bouquets, buttonholes; each one slightly different, shaped by whatever is looking its best in the garden that week. It’s always especially rewarding working with couples who truly value seasonal, natural flowers and understand that each arrangement reflects the moment it was picked.
The weather, as ever, has kept things interesting. Here on the Kent Downs, we’ve had everything thrown at us: strong winds and heavy rain battering the garden for days, followed by a sudden heatwave, then more downpours, and now another stretch of heat. Despite it all, the garden seems to be holding its own. The mix of rain, shade, and the occasional thunderstorm has meant I’ve not had to intervene too much,just keeping an eye on younger plants that might be feeling the strain.
There’s been plenty of gentle tending though, especially deadheading to keep everything flowering for longer and to prevent plants from going to seed too quickly. The cosmos and sweet peas have just started to come into their own, and I’ve been enjoying the daily ritual of picking and tending them. It’s something my girls love to help with too, which makes it all the more special.
June really does feel like meadow month. I’ve been using a lot of native flowers in my work; field scabious, sorrel, daisies, bringing that soft, natural feel into the arrangements. It’s a style that feels very true to the season and the landscape around us.
A couple of weeks ago, I planted out the last of the plugs, which always feels like a milestone. Now there’s that sense of anticipation building, looking ahead to the next wave,cosmos in full swing, along with dahlias and snapdragons not far behind.
For now, it’s about enjoying this moment: the rhythm of the season, the burning orange sunsets,the unpredictability of the weather, and the quiet satisfaction of seeing everything slowly come together.
July
July was one of those wonderfully abundant months that somehow passed in a flash.
It was a month full of steep learning curves, busy days and some wonderful moments of seeing seeds sown over winter and early spring finally come into flower.
There is something incredibly satisfying about that journey. From sowing seeds and potting on seedlings to planting, nurturing and finally harvesting stems at just the right stage for a bouquet, it feels like a complete and ever-changing cycle. As one crop begins to fade, another takes its place, and that is what makes growing and designing with my own flowers so rewarding.
This season hasn't been without its challenges. The prolonged dry weather and heatwaves have tested both the flowers and the flower farmer. Apart from one or two storms in June, the ground has remained incredibly dry. One thing I've become particularly grateful for is the shade from the trees around the garden, which has provided some welcome protection during the hottest days.
July also seemed to become the month of bouquets. Teacher bouquets, sympathy flowers and seasonal bouquets for local customers filled my workbench. As this is my first season selling flowers to the public, every order has been a valuable learning experience.
Behind the scenes, July also brought some personal challenges. Our dog required major surgery after being hit by a car, so much of the month was spent focusing on rehabilitation and recovery. Add in the arrival of the school holidays and another part-time job supporting students at a local university, and life certainly felt very full.
Although flower farming and academic support might seem like very different roles, I've realised they have something important in common: both are centred around people. Flowers help us celebrate, comfort and connect with one another, and that connection is always at the heart of my work.
One of my favourite moments of the day continues to be the summer evenings. The hazy, golden light, the sound of crickets singing and the gentle stillness in the garden make the perfect backdrop for tending to the flowers.
As we move into August, I'm looking forward to my first market in Sandgate and already beginning to think about seed orders and plans for next season.
Being a first-season flower farmer has been an incredible experience so far. There is still so much to learn, but I'm excited to continue growing, building connections within the local community and sharing more flowers over the remainder of the season.
And perhaps even a few workshops later in the year!