Kaitlyn Stoddard | Mountain Miles • Ranch Living • Fine Art 📷🎨

We have been up to our elbows in dirt over here. 🌱

Over the last few months, I've started more than 1,500 seeds and then obsessed over them like they're newborn babies. I've tested our soil like any good geologist's daughter would, then proceeded to act like I've been reading soil reports my whole life. I've researched regenerative soil amendments, read about cover crops for fun, and spent entire weeks on webinars learning everything from mass composting and soil blocking to irrigation systems and greenhouse airflow.

At this point, I know more about the bacteria and fungi needed to build a healthy soil ecosystem than I do about anything happening in pop culture.

The crazy thing is that this whole flower business started because I used to make my best friend a giant whimsical arrangement every year from all the blooms exploding out of my garden for her birthday. One day, we were standing beside one of my raised beds and she looked around and said, "You obviously have something magical here. You need to share it."

Now, not even a year later, here we are—8,000 square feet of outdoor flower field space and 2,000 square feet of greenhouse space.

It has been the biggest learning curve. There have definitely been a few casualties along the way. 🙃 Sean is actively learning how not to kill plants, and what I thought would be two weekends assembling this greenhouse somehow turned into eight. But it also meant long days outside with friends showing up to help, sharing meals, stories, and power tools.

I will admit, im my head, I thought we'd be much farther along by now. I had the perfect timeline all figured out. But it turns out flowers don't care much about my timelines, and neither does building something worth growing.

Most days I come inside after dark with dirt under my nails, on my face, and tangled in my hair.

The perfectionist in me wants to wait to share photos until the field is overflowing with blooms, but if I've learned anything lately, it's that life is short—just like our Colorado growing season—and so much of life, progress, and growth happens in the in-between.