About Me

I have no idea how I got into floristry, my plan was always to be a secretary, my poor Dad even worked overtime and saved up to buy me a decent typewriter so I could take my RSA exams. You can imagine the shock on his and my Mum’s face when I went home after a school careers meeting to tell them I was going to be a florist. Actually you should have seen the look on my face when I told the man asking me what I wanted to do. I had no idea what a florist did. I had never even stepped foot into a florists and to this day I still have no idea how I came to be where I am. I'd gone into the meeting to discuss going to secretarial college. The man looked at me and uttered the words "So what do you want to do when you leave?" I replied, without any pause or hesitation "I want to be a florist". Before I left the meeting an appointment had been set up for me to get a college place at Sparsholt College of Agriculture in their floristry department. The very next day (a Thursday) my Grandmother went into a shop round the corner from where she lived in Portsmouth to order some flowers and happened to mention that her granddaughter wanted to be a florist. That is how I found myself the following Saturday morning catching a bus down for an interview. I left at 5.30 that evening having completed my first full day as a trainee and I've never really looked back since.

I attended college for two days a week and worked for four days a week (five at peak times) in my first year of training. In the second year I attended college for only one day working for five each week in what was, and still is, one of the busiest shops on the South Coast. I almost quit during that first year, my bosses wouldn't allow me to touch flowers unless I was stripping leaves from them, cutting their stems and putting them in water; they certainly wouldn't let me make anything while I was still a trainee. My first year tutor and I really didn't see eye to eye, in fact she was downright nasty to me, but I stuck with it (I've never been one to quit when the going gets tough). Thankfully in the second year she was replaced with a wonderful teacher who was also a world award winning florist. Her encouragement was instrumental in making me the florist I am today. She actually offered me a job just a month after I started a new job paying 5 times the amount my new employer was - while I appreciated what a great teacher she had been I felt as an employer things might not have worked out quite so well - it turns out I made a wise choice (I moved on from where I completed my training once I was fully qualified).

Upon qualifying (with distinction) in all my exams, a chance conversation between my Dad and one of his work colleagues led to me being offered a job at one of the best florist shops in the South. For the first time since I started out in my career I was not only allowed to work with flowers, I was actively encouraged to experiment. I stayed in that job for nine years loving every single second of it. My boss was amazing and thanks to her I was able to help in the preparing and displaying flowers at the Chelsea Flower show for many years running. She also made me enter any and every competition that was available for which I was awarded numerous gold medals, as well as getting me to teach junior florists at the quarterly florist meetings that we used to attend. I learned so much working for, and alongside her; I also got to meet, and work with some of the best florists this country had to offer. The decision to leave her was the hardest I have ever had to make, but I had reached the stage where I couldn't go any further in my career, so for eighteen months I walked away from floristry completely. I worked in several different jobs including a factory and a cheap retail shop, but then the urge for flowers started to pull at me so strongly that I knew I had to get back to it. Originally upon returning to my vocation I ended up back in the very shop where it all began. I stayed there again for two years before being offered a job with a wonderful lady in a small village on the outskirts of Waterlooville. I loved every second of every day that I was there, but then tragedy struck, she was forced to retire, as a result she had to sell the shop. It was sold to two women that knew nothing about the business, who weren't florists and who thought that "playing with flowers" all day would be fun. That’s when I knew it was time to go I found myself moaning down the pub with one of my best friends over a pint or 4, telling him I couldn't stay there any longer and had to get out. That was the night we went into partnership and I've not looked back since (although I'm sure he has when I make him work weekends to deliver/setup the weddings). The move to Fareham (the place I was born and raised) has been like all my dreams come true. Business is wonderful, my customers are the best around, and I absolutely love getting up in the mornings (yes even the 4am starts) to come to work. Who would have thought those six random words forty years ago, back at that school meeting would lead me to where I am today?

That leads me to the present day and my new journey as a podcaster!  

Not content with working a regular 58-hour week, living with my visually impaired, arthritic mum, and being under the tyrannical rule of a pineapple green-cheek conure - the most attention-seeking, demanding creature I’ve ever met - I thought it would be a brilliant idea to add one more thing to my plate by starting a podcast. You know what they say: “If you want something done, ask a busy person.” In hindsight… maybe not me, right now!

Originally, my plan was to write a book. I still have most of the draft intact - “most,” because I had completed it once upon a time. While going through what must have been my twelfth or thirteenth edit, I decided I didn’t like the cloud service I was using. So, I copied everything to my work computer, uploaded it to iCloud, and deleted it everywhere else. Foolishly, I forgot to check that every page had successfully uploaded. The result? Only stories A through M made it. Half of my tales vanished into the digital ether. I could have cried. Instead, I spent a year berating myself and trying to reconstruct what I had lost. I’m still working on that!

I truly believe we all have a book within us. I still dream of seeing my name in print, sharing my stories far beyond the small audience who might stumble across me while stuck in traffic on a dark winter’s night.

Realizing how tough the literary world can be - and joking with family about how my best friend (if she were still alive) and I would have made a hilariously terrible podcast team - I had a thought: why not start a podcast and share my stories that way instead? It’s interactive, people can reach out, other florists can share their tales, and together, we could build a small community while giving listeners a peek behind the curtain of running a flower shop.

Of course, when that massive book deal inevitably arrives (publishers, my contact details are everywhere on this page), I promise not to let it go to my head. I’ll encourage you to buy copies for everyone you know—or even hand them out in supermarkets, on dog walks, or while queuing for a theatre show.

Some of you may be wondering: why share my work online if a book is the end goal? Simple: not everyone will want to listen to a podcast. Not everyone wants to read scripts online. Some people prefer holding a physical book, curling up with a hot chocolate, sinking into a bubble bath with a glass of wine, or just taking a break from screens. I’m one of those people. I also enjoy listening to podcasters who share stories from their published books - and I often buy those books myself. It’s the same concept as watching a movie adaptation after reading the book: you know the story, but you’re curious how it translates across mediums. Plus, I’d like to earn a little from all this creative chaos.

There are so many books on the market, and youtube videos showing you how to arrange flowers, sharing the lovely playful side of floristry but I’ve yet to come across one showing and explaining the other side. For every light there is a darkness, and my goodness, some days are far darker than the general public could possibly imagine.

Podcasting will/is costing me, personally, money. Hopefully, a book deal will help recoup some of that. And, dear listener, if you’d like to support me along the way, you’re very welcome to buy me a coffee. Every penny helps cover equipment and hosting costs - and keeps this little dream afloat without bankrupting me.