Flower delivery bouquets delivered to your door

  • Mothering Sunday flowers by post

    Mothering Sunday flowers by post

    Here at Common Farm Flowers in the ancient village of Charlton Musgrove we talk about Mothers' Day in the old way.  In the UK, Mothering Sunday is still celebrated on the fourth Sunday of Lent.  Mothering Sunday is officially the Feast of Mother Church, and in this village the congregation has been known to troop out of St John's in the middle of the service and give the building a hug (we like a bit of a walk about in the middle of church here.) Traditionally, Mothering Sunday was a day when the servant class were allowed to walk home after church to spend the day with their families, and people would pick posies of hedgerow flowers, violets, primroses, wild daffs, to give to their mothers when they got home.  Here there are kind ladies in the village (not I!) who get together on the Saturday and make posies which are taken to church and handed out to all the ladies of the congregation during the service.  It's a charming tradition and I love it.

    Why don't I make the posies for the church service?  Well, the awful thing is I'm a bit flat out making bouquets for my ki...

  • British flowers for Valentine's

    British flowers for Valentine's

    It's lovely to have been given a chance to big up British flowers for Valentine's in Homes and Antiques magazine this month.  We import up to two hundred million roses into the UK each year for Valentine's flowers which is crazy when we have growing in this country huge quantities of the best quality tulips, scented narcissi, gorgeous ranunculus, anemones and more.  Try asking your florist for British grown flowers for your Valentine this year, or, even better, order direct from us.

    In other news: this photograph was taken by the super talented Nick Carter with Amanda Russell styling.  You may not ...

  • Somerset Willow Wreath

    Somerset Willow Wreath

    Willow wreaths at Common Farm Flowers are made with whips we cut fresh from our farm.  When we arrived here, thirteen years ago, we struck willow stakes which were given us by a neighbour, into a band all round two sides of the farm.  The land was very boggy, and our plan was that the willow would help drain the land.  It did, and it grew tall and lanky, and eventually we started pollarding the trees we now had.  

    Willow plays a vital part in the survival of almost as many different species as does oak, as it was one of the first trees to recolonise the British Isles after the retreat of the last Ice Age.  Most noticeable for us are the clumps of black aphids which overwinter in the crowns of our pollard willow, making a fabulous feast for the charms of goldfinches which skit about the farm in the winter months.  A charm of goldfinches in flight is called a 'volery,' meaning a flight (from the French.)  Of course it could also mean a thievery (voler is to steal in French) which I think would suit them just as well as they're noisy ga...

  • Flower delivery bouquets from Common Farm Flowers

    Flower delivery bouquets from Common Farm Flowers

    No two bouquets of flowers from Common Farm Flowers in Somerset are ever the same.  No matter what time of year, we take the best flowers available, all grown not flown, as they say, all exclusively British flowers, and we create bouquets to order for delivery all round the UK.

    This bouquet was sent this morning, 3rd November 2017, and is a classic of the season, warm pinks and reds with a touch of silver velvet in the foliage.  I made it myself, walking round the table where our material is all standing in buckets of fresh water (no lying flowers flat on the surface, out of water, letting them bruise and dry out in the process here,) and I took fifty stems of gorgeousness to make a bouquet to send, in this case, as a thank you.  Today we've also made bouquets for congratulations and to give solace - so many reasons for giving a bouquet of English country flowers.  

    No matter what time of year, or what the reason for sending them, fresh, garden flowers sing with love from the giver.  Ingredients in this bouquet: dahlias, ranunculus, pa...

  • How about a bucket of mixed flowers delivered to your door?

    How about a bucket of mixed flowers delivered to your door?

    There is a way to cheer yourself up in the dim, dark days of winter.  Order yourself a bucket of beautiful British flowers from us, and eighty stems of loveliness will be delivered to your door.  Then you spend a happy half hour escaping from your life, being the kind of person who has flowers delivered to their door and has time to arrange them.  A bucket of eighty stems will make one huge arrangement, or perhaps one largish jug full and and then three posies - the jug for your kitchen table perhaps, the posies for your bedroom, your bathroom, your BOUDoir perhaps (did you know that the verb BOUDer in French means to sulk?  And that therefore a BOUDoir is, in fact, a sulkery?)

    I think a bucket of flowers to play with yourself has to be the perfect treat.  Or if you feel too guilty to order for yourself, then order for a friend, and go round and play with them at their house?  Just a suggestion.

    See our flower delivery page for all sorts of ideas for flowery treats.  At this time of year flowers do so much to brighten life.

    ...
  • Cafe au lait dahlia

    Cafe au lait dahlia

    Please welcome back the cafe au lait dahlia.  

    This coy beauty would rather a place in the back row of the chorus, so slow is she to flower.  No Karma Choc she, the cafe au lait is a labour of love to grow, and when she does grow well for you, goodness but the word 'floriforous' does NOT apply to her.  Which is why I have fifteen cafe au lait plants compared to three or five of other dahlia varieties.  Because when she does flower... as you can see, her blushing beauty is quite a thing.  

    No photograph EVER does a cafe au lait dahlia justice.  She is INFINITELY more subtle in colour, almost as though she glows from inside, than she ever shows herself in photographs.  I adore her, and as soon as I have ONE flower I've learned never to wait, but to cut her quick and pop her into a bouquet.  Here she is with Graham Thomas roses, scabious, nigella, another pinker dahlia less precious and so I'm afraid I've forgotten her name (though fond of her I am, and though good worker she is!)  

    I will admit I've never had a caf...

  • Sweet pea cropping

    Sweet pea cropping

    We love it when we get a special order from a customer who knows us well.  Some of our clients have been with us right from the beginning (2010) and know that if they ask for a special order we'll do our best to create whatever they've asked for.  Do you remember the ball of cowslips for a bride's bouquet a year or so ago?  Here we have another ball of flowers, this time about a hundred sweet peas, for a beloved Mama sent by her daughter in Scotland.  We made it by making three posies and tying them together to get this really tight ball shape.  I happen to know that the Mama might find the box and the wrapping and everything fiddly, and so also imagine she doesn't want to be handling a large bouquet that's especially heavy.  And so three posies tied together make quite a statement when they come out of the box, but if the Mama in question finds dealing with a large vase filled with water too much and too heavy, she needn't, as she can turn the bouquet into three light posies with one snip of her scissors: a posy for the kitchen, a posy for the sittin...

  • July news.....

    July news.....

    No seriously, July already? You’ll be sighing and saying you’ve noticed the nights are drawing in next. At which, of course, I roll my eyes to the heavens… and then panic! Or not, in fact… For the first time ever, in the history of Common Farm Flowers (watch the thunderbolt strike me down for saying this,) we are ‘on it’ where the seed sowing is concerned. I have a *few* more biennials I could sow direct in the ground, but I’ve hedged my bets and sowed a tray of each biennial so I’ll have a nice array of seedlings for planting out in September should the rest of my direct-sown seed not germinate. Sue is out there now sowing the final fling of annuals. We’re even doing things like popping round with a bucket doing groundsel tours as the big weeding is kind of under control. This isn’t the end of the seed sowing year of course: in September when we have our cut flower patch workshop I’ll be sowing a little hardy annual seed to overwinter, some in the ground, some in the greenhouse, but I won’t sow much. Gettin...

  • Do roses and dahlias go together?

    Do roses and dahlias go together?

    Every year Sharon and I have a little discussion: do roses and dahlias go together?  After all, rational examination of the looks of both might decree not.  Roses are delicate, their petals soft, round, like a really thick, good quality, crepe de chine.  Often their heads bob shyly like country debutantes at a ball in the 1920s, overwhelmed by the confidence of their chic, town-used peers.  Dahlias are stronger, their heads held high, ready to dance, outrage, they are the can-can girls of the cut flower patch.  Where roses smell sweet, dahlias have a hard, almost rubbery smell.  Their petals are often sharply pointed, their faces are always full of confidence: there's no such thing as a diffident dahlia.  

    So do these two go together?  Well, oddly enough, despite the fact that a bucket of roses next to a bucket of dahlias serves only to reinforce the fact that you might think they don't, I challenge you to ignore their differences, put them together, and you'll find that they make a very good team.  The strong stems of the dahli...

  • High summer flowers from this Somerset flower farm

    High summer flowers from this Somerset flower farm

    The arrival of high summer at this Somerset flower farm always takes me by surprise.  We've only just got going with the roses, and the first crop of annuals in the tunnel are in full flower, still a gentle, early summer palette, soft pinks and pale blues and whites.  And then suddenly I go out cutting and find there are dahlias in the field, there's bronze fennel, and rich, dark pink malope.  And I can't resist cutting them.

    Long experience has taught me that if something's coming into flower I should never, ever save it for another day.  If I do it'll be bashed by the rain or lashed by the wind or scorched by the sun.  Something coming into flower needs cutting, not only so that my customers and I can enjoy those gorgeous colours, but so that the side shoots shoot and they start to flower.  The skill at this time of year is to water lots and feed so that my trusty flowering plants just keep on flowering.

    These dahlias were left in the ground over winter and are now huge plants, bursting into flower.  The new plants I only put in...

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