An Ode To Florists

Valentines Day. A day filled with hearts, balloons, flowers, and love. Unless you're a florist. Then this week is hell. I know this because my wife Holly is a florist. She went to school and got a degree in floral design and joined the ranks of talented artists everywhere turning plants and flowers into works of art. And this week they earn every penny. But they deserve more.

When you go in to buy your flowers, hoping that they'll accomplish whatever you're looking to get out of Valentine's Day, remember the florist who helped you. Who took the time to explain to you what looks good and what doesn't. Who explained to you that roses aren't always the best flower to send. Chances are they helped you pick out a card. They then gently wrapped your flowers, or arranged them in a nice vase. They then gave your care instructions, which you'll ignore. You complete your transaction and you head out the door with love on your mind. But the florist stays and does that and more THOUSANDS of times before their Valentine's Day is done.

Holly worked 13 hours on Wednesday. She went in at 6 this morning and won't get off until after the sun goes down again. And while she is tired and her hands are shredded by the thorns, she doesn't complain. She really loves what she does, and it shows in every arrangement she makes. I've always marveled at what she is able to do with flowers.

May everyone stand in awe of the florist on this Valentine's Day. They work countless hours just so you can increase your chances of getting lucky.