Our story

Two acres, one family, and a booth with history

This land has been in our family for generations. I was born and raised in the Heber Valley, and the ground where the flowers grow now is the same ground I grew up on.

For years this was a fruit-and-vegetable garden — a hobby that kept getting bigger. Around 2021 it tipped over into a flower farm, and I haven't looked back. Wildflowers, dahlias, zinnias, sweet peas, lisianthus I transplant by hand, 250 tiny plugs to a tray.

The booth

The little stand at 340 West 400 North isn't new. It's a relic from the Heber Creeper, where I worked fifty years ago. Now it holds bouquets in summer, Santa's mailbox in December, and a food pantry in between. It runs on the honor system: cash in the box, or Venmo, and a camera for the rare bad apple. And if you want flowers and can't afford them — just ask. I'll share.

What we believe about seasons

We farm at 5,600 feet. The season starts when the valley warms up in late June and ends with the first hard frost, usually late September or early October. We don't fight it. Some years bring hail, heat, or a broken leg — we tell you plainly, and we make it right. Short seasons make sweet flowers.

My husband Randy and I have been married fifty years — we met in middle school. Five kids, a lifetime of side ventures, and now this: the best one yet.