How Covid shuttered my business and launched a “school”
I started my flower business nearly a year ago—six months in, Covid-19 came to town and shut ‘er down. I was devastated for many reasons: I had grown a small, yet loyal customer base who enjoyed their weekly bouquets, and the huge lift that is marketing, lost all momentum. My time designing and working with flowers was also gone, and not least of it, my income. I think of the bouquets as living sculptures and get so much joy working with the colors, smells, and movement of each flower. I love my work. I love the ephemeral nature of cut flowers.
My mother owned a landscaping business when my brother and I were kids. She can work a bare, square yard into a twisting landscape of interest with nooks, hiding spots to read a good book, and ponds whose sounds can lull you into thinking you are someplace else entirely. She loves working the land, designing for seasonal color pops, thinking of how each plant grows—providing backdrops to one another—digging, prepping, planting, tending. And then caring for these plants, that need ongoing and long-term attention. This is the work of a gardener. I am not that person.
I love the ephemeral nature of cut flowers because the moment they are cut, they are expected to die—I don’t even have to pretend I can keep them alive. My mom teases me that I can’t keep a plant to save my life! In fact, I know so little of growing greens that when I was a teenager and left to water the plants while my parents were out of town, I actually watered one of my mom’s fake plants! I think for at least a week. A gardener, I am not—though forever grateful for those who are.
Despite my inability to keep plants alive, I’ve done alright with my kids—so far—and this is where the pivot comes. Since business is on pause indefinitely, I’ve been able to focus on my children and their schooling.
I’ve gone back-and-forth whether to fully homeschool or to keep them in-school and supplement their remote learning. For now, they’re “in” school, which really means they’re mostly home and on the computer. The teachers are incredible. I’m so impressed with how gracefully they move from in-person half-days to fully remote. Many of them, non-digital natives, figuring it all out. I have yet to see their frustration seep into any interaction with the kids. I’m humbled and grateful for our teachers.
At the same time, I see the emotional toll it’s taking on my kids, especially my youngest, who is in first grade. While I am in no way an anti-screener (Yes please Tiger King, rewatching all of Parks & Rec—check— even following them from Netflix to Peacock TV, yeah, I’ll sign up NBC, Schitt’s Creek—of course!!!!! fully binged pre-pandemic, in fact…this goes on and on, so NO, I’m fully in-love with my screen time and allow the kids on too, though not as much, I’m not a monster!), but the screens, I am certain, are messing with my kids’ ability to regulate their emotions. The meltdowns are many, and I’m not just referring to mine. It’s getting to the point where I wonder, if pulling my little one out of school so that we can read together, keep a journal, adventure into our local forest for nature study and painting, with a ukulele lesson here or there for the two of us, is the way to go. So perhaps, I pause the flower business and open a school for one.
