Wedding Flowers
Slippery Slope has a booming side non-business giving flowers to people: neighbors, hosts, guests, people that the farmer wants to thank, etc. I think the pleasure the farmer takes in giving her flowers is of a piece with the pleasure she takes in growing them. The biggest ventures in the giving line so far have been contributions to two weddings: of our niece Stella the July before the pandemic and of our friend Juliana this (not really post-pandemic) July. We’ve known Juliana from the days when she and her twin Emily (the common name for the relationship is “identical”, but this is a misnomer – even the DNA of monozygotic twins is not identical) were still hooked up to their preemie breathing monitoring machines. We were so excited to hear of her engagement to Eric. As with many weddings this summer, the anticipation was extra-prolonged because the date was originally set for the infamous summer of 2020. Juliana chose sunset colors. The midsummer garden offered many options, and after conversations with Cheryl and MOB Jill (and support-by-being-quiet from FOB Martin and me) the flower schemes for the table bouquets were selected: dahlias and zinnias complemented by scabiosa and globe amaranth and accented by frosted explosion and hypericum.
Cheryl volunteered to do the arranging. The bouquet creation recapitulated the farmer-Cheryl partnership: the farmer produced buckets of flowers, carrying them from the garden to the patio, where Cheryl worked her magic composing arrangements. When she finished a couple, she took one in each hand to our dining room where the cylindrical vases were wedged snuggly between the prongs of some dishwashing racks we borrowed from an island commercial kitchen. It was hours of work – 26 bouquets altogether. The walk to the dining room became a trudge toward the end.
For weeks there was worry about how the flowers would fare during the long, likely hot, trip to Cannon Beach. Schemes were devised involving dry ice and insulation provided by backpacking sleeping pads. In the end we just put the two racks in the back of the car and cranked the AC. The flowers were fine.
Few things are more pleasing than pitching in at a loved one’s wedding. Besides the flowers, our contributions included:
- recovering the groom’s left-behind suit in Tacoma and driving it to Cannon Beach with the flowers;
- adjusting the fabric decorating the arch built on the beach to frame the ceremony (the farmer and the farmer’s daughter did this);
- running the sound system for the ceremony (befitting a beach wedding, the music featured ukulele – here’s the sweet rendition of the Wedding March that accompanied Jill, Martin and Juliana’s walk down the sandy aisle); and
- DJing the reception (most of the dancing was done by the parents’ generation, which explains why a 60-year old was entrusted with this task – here is one of the more successful songs)
The flowers were a thematic element of our time together: enjoyed at the house we rented some days before and after, decorating the tables at the reception, and gifts for guests to take home.
While driving home with our memories and the empty dishwashing racks, Cheryl texted me a (random, she claimed) question: “what’s your favorite color?” I had formulated an answer to this question many years before as I hiked the last few miles of a hike up and down the Dosewalips River, so my response was immediate: “new Maple leaves, backlit by morning sun”. Turns out I was setting a challenge for her. Cheryl, Wayne, and Olive (who is a natural farm dog) were garden-sitting for us during our week away, and Cheryl was making bouquets to greet us when we returned. A fine welcome it was: bouquets all over the house. The one at my desk was created to evoke the sight of maple leaves backlit by sun: sweet pea, cosmos, scented geranium, choisya, euphorbia and more. The farmer’s flowers and Cheryl’s art: a wonderful combination.