Okay - so anyone who knows me knows that I have never been happier in a job than I am now. This is the best job ever!
Yes, it's the freedom that being self employed gives me, it's the delight of working with beautiful flowers everyday and dealing with the most fantastic customers, many of whom I can genuinely call "friends". But its also those human elements that make the job the hardest one I have ever done - the heart wrenching sadness that death brings to many, the uplifting happiness and excitement that engagements, weddings, baby births new jobs, homes etc bring to others.
Every week is filled with highs and lows and this week has been exceptionally full of peaks and troughs.
Flowers are celebrated by people throughout the world, they are a recognisable part of many ceremonies, weddings, funerals, birthdays, special occasions such as Mothers Day, Christmas and Easter. They have special meanings dating back to Victorian times when they were used to convey feelings and desires.
I have had had the privilege in the last week of designing funeral flowers for a number of families, it is heartbreaking to see families in such distress but I honestly believe if I get the flowers right it gives them comfort, no mater how small.
This week has also seen me preparing and planning for two weddings, each of which is very special to those involved, again as equally important to get the flowers right on these occasions.
Flowers truly bring comfort both in the celebration of a life lived and at the start of a new life together and whilst this is the best and hardest job I have ever had I wouldn't change it for the world.
I shall leave you with a little poem that sums up this week!
Flowers of life poem by Apudo Apudo
Flowers are meant to fruit
Nipping in the bud to abate
To boast a fragrance
Evidence of a sprightly existence
With a sweet heart of nectar
Calling birdies and worker bees to supper
Of silky soft petals and fragility
Of shapes sizes disposition and variety
Of graceful patterns hearty colour and beauty
Some born on thorn and poison
Some gentle to touch, glad to behold
Always looking forward to bloom
Always dreading the imminent and inevitable droop
Graves and epitaphs to be their final place
The arms of the lucky lady to grace
Gladdening hearts at holy matrimonies
However mean, beauty remains