The last few weeks have felt like walking through a whirlwind - petals in my hair, elderflower in the air, a to do list thats the length of my arm, and Ollie’s laughter echoing somewhere in the background. Life has been busy in that beautifully ridiculous November way, where nothing feels predictable but everything feels alive.
I’ve been reminding myself that this is the season I asked for - a life built from flowers, stories, love, and a little chaos. And even though I’ve been tired, stretched, and often running on tea and adrenaline, I’ve also felt deeply present and proud.
Let me tell you why.
Sports Day.
The sun was warm, the grass smelled like summer, and Ollie lined up for his very first sprints race - all tiny limbs and fierce determination.
And then he won.
My boy crossed that finish line first, turned back with these bright, shining eyes, and ran straight into my arms with his blue ribbon crumpled in his little hand.
It was the kind of moment that makes your whole chest ache - the sort you tuck somewhere safe.
Christmas floristry is a special kind of wild. The studio has been a blur of fresh stems, reflexed roses, last minute orders, and walk ins that feel like tiny plot twists in my day.
My favourite story - because it still makes me laugh - happened on a Saturday night at 6.45pm. I’d just stepped out of the shower, hair in a towel, dressing gown on, when a couple knocked on the door asking for flowers.
And what did I do?
I made them a bouquet from scratch in my dressing gown like some kind of chaotic flower fairy.
Mortifying?
A little.
But also… the most “Where the Roses Grow” thing ever.
Office Life, Playcafé Admin & Being Everywhere At Once
With Mum and Dad overseas, I’ve been splitting myself between the studio and their office - one world smelling like paperwork, the other like peonies. There’s something strangely grounding about doing invoicing in the morning and arranging dream bouquets by afternoon. It reminds me that both sides of my life matter. I would often run to the flower market in the morning before heading into the office, so the office ladies always enjoyed seeing all the pretty blooms that I carted along with me.
Admin has also followed me to playcafé tables, parks, and playdates - answering emails with a laptop balanced between babycinos, watching Ollie zoom around with friends while I edit product descriptions or upload bouquet photos.
It’s messy. It’s real.
It’s modern motherhood + small business in its purest form.
Even with the chaos, something inside me has felt more aligned these past few weeks. Wedding and event enquiries have been flowing in - bright summer palettes, soft romantic tones, long lunches, intimate ceremonies.
Every consultation reminds me why I love this work:
The storytelling.
The trust.
The transformation of someone’s vision into something they get to hold, smell, walk toward their future with.
It feels like my little studio is growing up with me.
The garden has grounded me more than anything else lately.
My roses are showing off - blushing at the edges, opening like soft little secrets. The dahlias are waking up. The lemon verbena smells like sunshine. And the elderflower… oh, the elderflower.
It’s blooming like lace in the air, delicate and magical, the kind of bloom you have to pause for.
It inspired the most refreshing thing I’ve been making lately:
Light, floral, and impossibly pretty - my current favourite sip after long studio days.
You’ll need:
- Elderflower cordial
- Sparkling water or lemonade
- Fresh lemon slices
- A handful of garden mint
- Ice
- Optional: a splash of gin or prosecco
To make:
Fill a tall glass with ice, add a generous splash of elderflower cordial, top with sparkling water, squeeze in a little lemon, and muddle through a few mint leaves.
Sip in the garden while the world catches up to you.
Every season, my eye settles on a certain mood - a feeling that flows into my bouquets without me even trying.
Right now it's:
- Blush on blush on blush - colour-drenched but soft
- Whispery florals - cosmos, phlox, sweet peas, garden roses
- Dreamy romantic palettes - creamy vanilla, peach sorbet, dusty raspberry
- Negative space + cloudlike movement - airy, floating, storybook silhouettes
- Cottage-girl energy - sunlight through linen, windswept hair, soft pastels
- Wild garden softness - things allowed to grow just slightly out of line
It feels like the studio and the garden are in the same season as me - evolving, softening, blooming in their own time.
The last few weeks were messy, beautiful, exhausting, and full of tiny miracles.
A blue ribbon in a small hand.
Flowers at 6pm in a dressing gown.
Admin in a playcafé.
A garden that keeps reminding me to grow gently.
Bookings that make my heart beat a little faster.
And a season where - even on the hardest days - I can feel myself becoming the florist, the mother, the woman I’ve been working toward.
It’s imperfect. Chaotic.
But it’s mine. And it’s magic.
I hope your weeks are wonderful, angels.
With love & wildflowers,
Kels x