I stole red tulips at the neighbor's with the mint-green house. I was 9 and only remember the smell and holding them, all else forgotten in the flowers. This would not be the last time blooms and scents would stop me in my tracks.

 

Dad a ranger naturalist and mom a singing waitress at Glacier Park, they met a ways away from grandpa's cow farm in Many, Louisiana. Growing up and visiting both Glacier and Many as a child, I felt an appreciation for soil, for earth, for nature.

 

My career after college as an artist singing opera took me all over the world. Yet no matter where I go or the careers I followed, the fragility and scent of flowers and dirt, and the gift and thrill of a fantastical bouquet pulls me back to my clippers and the tulips that stopped me in my tracks so long ago.

​

 

 

Chinese father and Swedish mom, Eric, a first generation American, grew up in the woods of Indiana. He headed to the West Coast for law school, mooring in Port Orchard as a trial lawyer at Fong Law. Forest steward, tractor driver, horse-poop loader, and lover of all creeks and ferns, he is my accomplice in all things.

 

My husband Eric and I met in 2019. 

Our mutual love of gardening grew into a mad dash to create a flowering abundance.

 

Eric co-owns and runs the flower mania train, and is in the technical and practical realms, indispensable.