In September this year my son will start school. No longer will I have babies. And whilst I can ring my hands with fear (then run with unbound desire at the prospective of that change) the fact remains I can not change it. It will come and I have to accept a new season in life. I see a void coming and I want to fill it.

The pandemic proved to me that I have the ability to give everything I have, that I am, to my children. For seven months I kept them at home with me, caring solo for them eight hours a day whilst my husband worked. And I am proud of that. The way I see my children grow, observing their understanding of the world and our place in it, gives me a deep-rooted sense of accomplishment. In a world where we are torn between the modern image of motherhood - the career go-getter, the financially independent, and the ‘kids won’t change my life’ narrative, this is something that shouldn’t be hard to admit to, but which feels a little dangerous to say out loud - I am glad I dedicated myself to my children. I worked hard to be in a place to allow me to do that, but the clock chimes away the time I have left before my youngest starts formal education and our weeks are not punctuated by our days together. I feel it deeply. But I also feel the loss of identity after the long days of domesticity and the cruelty of seven bereavements in eight years. I hadn't noticed the slow erosion of self until it was brought sharply into focus thanks to our relocation by every 'what do you do?' and 'where are you from?' enquiring soul. I fear this isn't just me. I hear it in whispers by other mother's, ones who are pushing prams and hunched over from holding little hands. I am out of the baby years but only now, as my children grow, I see the possibility of finding those answers again.

I do not wish to mourn that loss of time; children are not ours forever, after all. Instead I became drawn to finding a way to fill the quiet absence my son's start to school will bring. The garden called and my urge to find a fulfilling work that will earn me a living collided. This is how the idea for Offset Floral was born.

Beautiful yard grown cut flowers from the rural Oxfordshire countryside

Offset Floral: flowers for people + planet.

Nestled between open fields in our small rural village, I am establishing a yard grown cut flower garden. I will grow to supply local florists and their clients who care about seasonality and sustainability. I bring all my knowledge of organic gardening practices and zero waste living principles to the farm, as long as my passion to tred lightly on this planet. I will be growing with the seasons and all that nature brings to cultivate truly beautiful, abundant blooms for our community.

With blooms this beautiful, they must be sustainably British.

To find out more go to offsetfloral.co.uk and follow my journey on Instagram @offsetfloral

You’ll find me in the garden,

Laura x