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Winter has arrived and she’s making up for lost time. 


The near-tropical December is waving in our rearview mirrors as the road ahead plunges into subzero voids.  This is hibernation weather, and I’ll bet you thought this flower farmer was holed up under fuzzy blankets, sipping steamy mochas and binging on British murder mysteries.  Ok, yes...you caught me.  I have indulged a smidge.


But it’s not all comfort and rest here…from time to time I extricate myself to attend to the blossoms of 2024.  Because even in this frigid landscape, your future flowers are growing.  



Within the sanctuary of a thin veil of greenhouse plastic, hundreds of plants huddle, hoping with all their little photosynthetic hearts to bloom beneath a warm spring sun. They trusted me blindly when I tucked them in the ground this fall. Their confidence in this farmer may be questionable.  


You see, this is version 2.6 of my low tunnel attempts.  I nearly met my Maker preventing version 2.5 from blowing away in December.  Have you ever wanted to go parasailing over frozen Illinois farmland?  Me neither.


Rest easy, I survived relatively unscathed.  Low Tunnel 2.5...not so much.  Onward and upward, literally.


If God brings these little Foxglove and Bellflower babies to mind as you track the gusts of polar wind outside your frosty windows, would you say a prayer for them?


They're rooting for a chance to welcome Spring with you.



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