Technically I'm a second generation florist. It's true, my mom was a florist and my dad a gardener so the smell of oasis and cut grass are the smells of my childhood. We lived in a tiny coastal town outside a town in South Africa. The tiny town is called Keurbooms and the town is called Plettenberg Bay, fondly called Bahia Formosa or Beautiful Bay by the Portuguese when they discovered it in the 15th Century. I still think of it as paradise.
But I wasn't raised to be a florist in Paradise. Being a florist is "such hard work" my mom would say. Better to go to university, see the world and get a "good job". And so I did, I studied hard, became a Management Consultant and lived in big cities like Paris and London. I always thought I'd get the wanderlust out my system and move back to South Africa, until I met my husband in New York.
So here I found myself, in a very different kind of paradise, with the Love of My Life, but searching for the missing piece of the puzzle - fulfilling work.
Flowers were my hobby, my joy and passion outside of work but I still didn't think I'd do it full-time. That's not what I was raised to do. Until my mom died unexpectedly. The only comfort I could find was in flowers and nature. The simplicity, the beauty, the growth, the life. It became my focus and my healing process.
So why flowers? Because it's in my blood and it makes me happy and life's too short not to pursue meaningful work. My mom would agree. She gave me the choice that led me back to this place and for that and all our flower conversations I'm so grateful.