What happens when you swap a city office for a flower field?
On 11 September, it was two years since I resigned from my London office job. More importantly, it was the point I’d marked as the end of my ‘trial run’ with flower farming and floristry. I’d given myself two years, funded by savings, to see if I could make it work. So, what’s the verdict?
Well, Bulb to Bunch isn’t fully viable yet. Costs still outweigh revenue - mainly because of investment in infrastructure, equipment and materials. But this season, for the first time, I can see profit might be possible. That’s enough to keep me going. I also remind myself that for most small UK businesses, true viability - consistent profit, steady customers, and reliable cash flow – usually comes in years three to five. So I’m trying not to be too hard on myself.
Loving the work, despite the graft
What matters most is that I love what I’m doing. This summer has been wonderful. Yes, flower farming is more difficult than I thought it would be. It’s 90% hard graft and 10% playing with flowers. But working outside in beautiful weather makes it worthwhile. It keeps me active, close to nature, and I no longer have that horrible Sunday-night dread about the week ahead.
One of the biggest and unexpected upsides has been the people I’ve met through flower farming. Many of my regular customers feel more like friends than clients, which makes the work even more rewarding. And it helps set a great standard for everything I sell: nothing leaves the farm unless it’s something I’d be proud to give to a friend or delighted to receive myself.
Would I recommend it?
Do I wish I’d changed career sooner? Not really. My previous jobs gave me a home of my own, financial stability and the savings to take this leap. Would I tell others to do the same? Maybe. I now realise how motivating it is to do something for yourself that you really enjoy. But, if you’re not financially independent, I’d probably say start something new alongside your current job initially – or even try working for someone else in the same field first.
Life without a steady salary
It’s not without sacrifice. Without a steady salary, I’ve become much more careful with money. We go out far less and I rarely buy new clothes – but honestly, I’m happiest grubbing in the dirt, in just shorts and a T-shirt in summer, leggings and a fleece in winter. Life has become a lot simpler and we prioritise the things that matter most, like holidays together. After Roger’s cancer diagnosis, we both realised how important it is to spend time doing what we love, while we can. Sailing is one of Roger’s passions – and in the sunshine, one of mine too – so that’s where any spare money goes.
The hardest challenge: getting known
The toughest part remains getting the business known. The vagaries of social media mean that when you post something, it might go to 200 people. Only if a good number of those people like or comment, will the algorithms push the post to more people. Video helps, but it’s not something I’m naturally comfortable with. So, progress is slower than I’d like. But maybe slow growth is good growth. It gives us time to gradually expand the flower farm to meet the rising demand without getting overwhelmed. And we don’t want to get so busy, we lose those personal relationships that make it fun.
And yes, it’s disheartening to walk into a supermarket and see empty buckets, wondering why people buy those plasticky flowers over ours. I’m sure we can change some of that, even if it’s one bouquet at a time.
So, two years in, the future’s a little more certain and full of possibilities (we’ve even had some Bulb to Bunch T-shirts made!). And for now, that’s more than enough.
Grounded | A space for slowing down and embracing life’s simple pleasures | www.bulbtobunch.com/blog