ROW BY ROW, THIS DREAM GROWS
- Amanda Foster
- Feb 8
- 3 min read
Updated: Mar 20
The moment the tunnel was planted, the whole farm seemed to shift gears. One space finally settled… and suddenly every other corner of the land started calling my name.
Waiting for me—stacked on tables, lining shelves, crowding every warm pocket of the tunnel—were trays and trays of seedlings, all eager for their turn in the soil.
And just as this tidal wave of planting arrived, Rob headed out of town for a week. Work trip, plus a visit with The Little in Arkansas.
Which meant it was just me, the dogs, and a to‑do list that looked more like a dare.
Filling the Outdoor Rows
While he was away, I laid out row after row in the outdoor gardens and filled them to the brim. Every tray I emptied felt like a tiny victory. Every row I planted felt like its own small chapter in the bigger story of this place waking up.
But the seedlings were only the beginning.
Because while some people impulse‑buy purses…I impulse‑buy plants.
And not gently.
The Perennial Problem (If You Can Even Call It a Problem)
First came the perennials: echinacea, salvia, sidalcea, astilbe — and fourteen rose bushes just to “get started.”
I kept it “cool” on the peonies. Only sixteen. I know who I am.
And listen — you can’t have a flower farm without the landscaping being beautiful. It’s practically a rule. I don’t make the rules. I just… enthusiastically obey them.
Somewhere in the middle of planting, Daisy wandered through a freshly made row, leaving a perfect trail of paw prints stamped across the soil like a signature. Classic.
And Then — the Orchard
Perennials were nothing compared to what came next.
Because in all my years of dreaming this dream, I always imagined an orchard tucked somewhere on the land. A place for fruit, yes — but also a place for beauty, shade, roots, and story.
By the end of that week, the beginnings of a full orchard were tucked into the earth.
If you’re keeping count (Rob most certainly is, and he is… not amused), the list goes like this:
two peaches
two plums
two pecans
three apples
two figs
fourteen raspberries
two blackberries
four blueberries (and I absolutely need more)
three cherries
and three flowering cherries (because beauty matters too — as previously established)
What can I say? I really like fruit.
The Dogs “Help”
Daisy and Luna were beside me the entire time, which means that for one full weekend they were outside from dawn to dusk, “helping” in their own special ways.
Daisy supervised with her usual quiet authority — plus a healthy dose of enthusiastic soil disturbance. Her big paws tilled up every spot I had already planted.
Luna… well… let’s just say she handled “hydration services.”
And before anyone clutches their pearls — this is a no‑till farm, y’all. The dogs are just devoted comedians with muddy feet.
A Week of Planting Everything I Love
By the time the sun went down each night, I was the kind of tired that settles deep in your bones but feels earned.
I’d fall into bed with dirt under my nails, muscles humming, and a quiet sense of pride blooming right alongside everything I’d tucked into the earth.
Lisianthus by the thousands. Ranunculus by a similar measure. Eucalyptus. Asters. Campanula. Bells of Ireland. All of my favorites, and a handful of new surprises too.
Row by row, tray by tray, seedling by seedling…this place began to look less like raw land and more like the farm I’ve been dreaming of.
Taking Root
It was a week that stretched me thin, filled me up, and reminded me exactly why I chose this life.
Rows planted. Orchard started. Perennials tucked in. Dogs happy. Heart full.
Yep. This little dream is really starting to take root.
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