My great-grandmother, Mabel, was laconic. Resilient and self-assured, she never said 20 words when two would do. When she spoke, it was because something needed saying.
She didn’t raise her voice, gesticulate, or fluctuate. Every word conveyed exactness pronounced with wisdom in her deep eyes.
I remember as a child, my mother would pack up the ’76 Chevy conversion van frequently and we’d ramble off. It was a 45-minute drive to grandma’s country farm house in Door County, WI.
It was not a fancy place, but she always made room to grow flowers – even if they were planted alongside the gas tank at the dairy farm. My sister, brother and I spent our days swinging from the old willow in the front yard, chasing cats and sneaking to the barn to slide down hay bales. Evenings were spent with a hand of ‘Go Fish’ around the formica kitchen table. We ate fresh baked bread with Karo syrup with every meal (I’m still not sure why).
Great-Grandma Mabel always made time to sit me on her lap in her rocking chair. She would say a few words.
Mostly, we just rocked.
At the end of our visit, we set off – hearts filled with her sprinkling of wisdom, wit and love – refreshed and ready to take on the world again.
She had that effect on people. Being in her presence was just good for the soul. In three words or less.
In the same way, we believe the flowers of Mabel’s Acre are good for the soul. Locally and sustainably grown – like they did in the old days.
Except without the gas pump. We don’t have one, but if we did, we’d probably make room for a few more flowers. Just like she did.
We believe beautiful, seasonal blooms have a little of the same magic that Mabel did. In a single moment, they communicate the language of the heart and soul in a way so few of us are able to with words.
We are so excited to share them with you.