Kinship Flower Farm
My favorite childhood memories have two things in common: loved ones and flowers. I can still see the crepe paper-thin skin of my Grandma Josie’s hands stretch and move as she wove the family daisy crowns while we waited for turns helping Grandpa Ted drive the tractor. My mother would turn our yard into an explosion of color each summer, filling old whiskey barrels with bright impatiens. My siblings and I loved the thrill of popping their seed pods between our index fingers and thumbs, watching the little green balloons burst and roll into curly cues. My resourceful mother would also navigate a wheelbarrow on wooded paths surrounding our yard to search out native plants to relocate to our yard, attracting all kinds of pollinators. We saw birds and all sorts of bees, but we would squeal with excitement when we spotted our favorite insect, the hummingbird moth, which we dubbed “the crayfish butterfly.”
I had the incredible opportunity to travel widely on various family vacations as a child. Those memories are full of flowers too: columbine in Rocky Mountain National Park, wild roses growing between the craggy rocks of the New England coast, acres of solidago and wild aster in the Western Pennsylvania autumns, and all sorts of tropicals in the U.S. Virgin Islands. These floral landscapes color the backdrop of memories I hold dear.
After recounting all this, you may be surprised to learn it’s only recently that I recognized the significance of flowers in my life. The flowers were always there, but I was too distracted by perfectionism and drive to acknowledge their importance for decades. I valued efficiency and longevity as ultimate markers of value as I strived to be the best at everything: the best student, the best daughter, the best employee, the best wife, the best mother. And while all those things are not bad things to strive towards, the line between holding yourself to a high standard and pushing into unhealthy burnout is thread-thin and easy to cross.
In 2017, after years of pushing too hard mixed with some traumatic family events, I hit my breaking point. I spiraled into a deep depression and crippling anxiety with daily panic attacks. Suddenly, this life of high achievement screeched to a halt as I had to focus on deep healing and to let others share the load. With the help of a great therapist, doctor, medication, and friends and family, I finally saw my worth apart from my achievement. I started slowing down, giving myself grace, and noticing the beauty around me.
That summer, I found tremendous peace and healing in my garden. Our family had grown vegetables for several years, but that was the summer we planted a few cheap seed packs of cosmos, zinnias, and sunflowers among our veggie beds. Not entirely free of my old thinking, I was thinking of the flowers purely for their availability to bring in more pollinators. But nature is so much more intelligent than we are and gave me the much-needed awe of the beauty of those simple flowers that summer. Those blooms brought me back to how significant flowers had been throughout my life, present in my best recollections and bringing peace and beauty in hard times.
If you’ve ever grown cosmos and zinnias, you know that you will soon have more flowers on your hands than you know what to do with. We left most of the flowers in the garden for the bees, but I started cutting a bouquet or two a week for our table or to gift to a friend. I started adding a small posey to the bunches of kale we sold in our community. Arranging the flowers broke the dam on my creativity, and soon I couldn’t stop making arrangements for every occasion.
There is something special about giving flowers to the people in your life. Flowers have a way of connecting us in profoundly emotional and tender times in our lives. That shared vulnerability between the giver and receiver reminds us that under all our differences, we are all just humans trying our best to get through life with all its ups and downs. Flowers connect us as few other things can. This connection is why I named our tiny little flower farm Kinship, a reminder that we are all connected to each other, our fellow creatures, and to the earth. We belong to each other and thrive when we work for mutual flourishing.
I feel incredibly grateful that I have been able to turn those first few blooms into a small business positively impacting my community. I love stopping my work to chat with neighbors and friends at the roadside stand. I love educating my community on the value of local flowers, whether they are touring the rows of flowers or sharing my flowers with local florists. The connections I’ve made with flowers led to a part-time job with a local florist, allowing me to grow my skills and creativity. I’m able to carry on the legacy of my grandmothers and mother by sharing the love of gardening and plants with my own children. Every time I hand a couple their wedding flowers or drop off a sympathy arrangement, I feel honored, humbled at the opportunity to share in collective joy and sorrow. These moments are holy to me.
I wonder if my grandmother could have known when she made those daisy crowns, she was weaving a dream into my heart or if my mother realized the time she spent teaching me the names of plants would one day turn into a calling for me. These moments seemed small and ordinary at the time. But it’s those small and everyday moments dripping with love and connection that make us who we are. Simple things like a hot meal, a long hug, an uncontrollable laugh, or a dandelion bouquet in a toddler’s hand are indeed what makes a life. I’m so thankful to be a part of those moments with others, blooms in my hands, and gratitude in my heart.
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Lindsay Hufford is the owner and farmer-florist at Kinship Flower Farm. Lindsay uses local blooms from her micro farm just south of Nashville, TN to create unique designs for everyday and events.
Lindsay's floral business began when she decided to throw a few zinnia seeds in her immense vegetable garden in 2016 and she fell under the floral spell.
The guiding principle behind Kinship is connection. Lindsay believes in the ability of flowers to connect us to each other and to our precious planet. Environmentally sustainable practices are used from seed to bloom. At Kinship, we believe flowers are for everyone and are a fully inclusive business.
When she's not tending the flowers, you can find her reading a good book or hiking with her family and dogs.